First we went up a hill to get to the train. Then we went up steps to get to the track. Then we got to sit down and catch our breath and take a swig of water before the next train arrived. Then we got on the train and got to sit for another twenty minutes, sharing one seat for part of the ride while Amy flirted with a little boy. When the train stopped, we were forced into a decision -- do we take the steep hill into town, or tackle the step? The decision is made for us by the call of mother nature. The bathroom is uphill, but Amy tells me not to go. I thought it over, and reconsidered. Though I am getting really good at peeing standing up, I must have a spotless environment in which to do so. This is the hardest thing I've learned in Italy.
AMY:
After missing train number one, we sit in the station where mom offers me a croissant. I have just eaten, but whatever. Is this supposed to be elevensies? I score mom a seat on the train and perch on the arm rest, apologizing to the little boy who's mother has given away his seat, teasing him about sitting in my mom's lap, too. When we get to one of the end towns of the Cinque Terre -- Riomaggiore -- I've really got to go to the bathroom. I'm thrilled when we find one at the top of the hill in town. Not so much when I go inside. It's a floor toilet, meaning a basin flat on the floor with places to put your feet on either side. I'm used to these style toilets from India, but sadly, this smells a bit like India, too. No toilet paper. No soap. No towels. Thank God for mom and her hand wipes. I advise her to hold it.
KAREN:
We wander into a focaccia place and share a great piece of mascarpone fig, our newfound Italian treat. It doesn't matter what it as on it or in it, just another way these people have wormed their way int my heart... and added to my girth. Have they no shame?
AMY:
If I eat any more bread, I am going to vomit.
KAREN:
No putting it off -- time to hike. I have to admit, I almost hyperventilate when I see the stairs to the trail. I've developed a slight twitch in my eye when I see stairs now. Finally we arrive at the summit and hand the man our ticket. We head out on a mostly level walk that hugs the cliff face, keeping our eyes out for the locks. We start seeing a few here and there. Mostly padlocks. And then, at one turn, we start seeing them in clusters along with bags and toys and trinkets... and tampons. I can't believe someone poor deluded soul thinks their love will stay together by tying one of those on a fence. When we looked over the railing, people were sunbathing on the rocks and swimming in the Mediterranean. This can be quite interesting in a country where speedos are prevalent. Not that we saw anybody that looked good in a speedo, but it did prove to be interesting people watching.
AMY:
I've been so excited about this part of the trip. This part of the trail is known for lovers, and at most every turn, there's a couple with their tongues down each other's throats. The path from Riomaggiore to Manarola is called the Via Dell'Amore -- which means roughly, "Lovers Walk". People write their names on wall lining the paved route and seal their eternal love by placing 'The Lover's Lock' somewhere on the trail. The custom was inspired by the film Tre Metri Sopra il Cielo. At one point, there is a couple placing a lock he has had engraved with their names. Very cute. Guy in speedos? Not so much.
KAREN:
Toward the end of the trail, I left my mark on the wall. Since there was a loose piece laying there, I thought, well -- this should come home with me. As I was confessing this to Amy, I was dive bombed by a pigeon, leaving a fowl taste in my mouth. Along the lines of chicken. Speaking of, lunch was at a nice little place close to the water where we could watch them lowering the boats down on a winch and watch people jumping off the jagged rocks into the water, sending sounds of laughter and water splashing high into the air above.
AMY:
Mom's crime spree across Italy continues. It started with a roll of toilet paper smuggled out of the place where the flute concert was in Montepulciano. Now, she's slipped a piece of the Cinque Terre into her purse. After she has a Hitchcock-esque moment with a bird toward the end of the trail, I suggest it's and omen for her to leave the stone behind. She does. We have a little seaside lunch before mom heads to the ferry and I continue the hike, only to find the path is closed between Manarola and Corniglia. I double back and sit at the train station baking in the sun for an hour. I'm snoozing a bit, which is likely a direct result of boozing a bit at lunch.
KAREN:
Waiting twenty minutes on a small outcropping of rocks in the sun with a hundred other people made me feel like a flock of pelicans on the jetty, waiting for the fishing boats to come in. It was hot and crowded, and when the ferry arrived, the guy told everyone to get in a single file line. The crowd broke out in laughter. The ride was beautiful, and not long enough. I was looking up, trying to imagine where Amy was on the trail. When I get off the train in Montorosso, I'm not sure which way to go. All there are are steps and hills. I choose hills, do a little shopping, and pick up a lemon gelato before heading back to the train. What amazed me while waiting for the train, here in Italy, where they are famous for their gelato, eating vending machine ice cream cones. How odd. I make it back to the hotel and hope in the shower. First one in gets the hot water.
AMY:
The trail from Corniglia to Vernazza is a heck of a climb. There are at least a hundred steps from the train station just to get to the trail. Mom would have had a coronary. I'm rocking the Vibrams, which I have to say, have proven a killer way to start a conversation in Italy. But on all these rocks, they are also killing my feet a little. So comfortable... like walking barefoot, then a jagged rock leaves me wincing.
Wincing almost as much as the American sorority girl pack singing "99 Bottles of Beer On The Wall" on the trail just ahead of me. Much of the trail makes me think I have now earned both my "Stairway To Heaven" and "Billygoat" Girl Scout badges. I'm super sweaty and dying for a swim. I planned to do the next leg as well, which has about 750 steps, but it is getting late in the day and I am supposed to meet mom at 6:30 PM for the train back to Levanto. As you know, she's already back enjoying a hot shower as I sit waiting at the station. Best laid plans.
BOTH:
At the suggestion of A Durmi's hostesses with the mostess... We are having dinner at a campground tonight. I know that sounds weird, but they say it is inexpensive, good food, and very traditional. Again, they do not fail to steer our course in the right direction. We share Gettafin, a traditional Levanto dish described as fried ravioli, but I would liken more to an Indian pakora filled with a spinach mixture. It is very good. Then we have a mozzarella and gorgonzola calzone and lasagna. Everything is amazing, except the wine... which mom says tastes like vinegar. Even the tiramisu rivals some of the more expensive places we've been.
Time to pack. It's off to Florence tomorrow, and lucky us -- another trip to Hertz. when we looked at the contract to see what time we need to have the car back. It says we were supposed to return it on the 19th. I'm not even going to comment.
And hopefully, I won't land in jail tomorrow for stealing the car.
