May 11 – Day 8: From Manarola to Monterosso

We woke up bright and early on Mother’s Day to do the Cinque Terre hike, nearly end to end since we had seen Riomaggiore the day before. None of the bars were open in Manarola when we left at 8:00, so off we started for Corniglia, about 45 min. on foot. The morning was cool and windy compared to our first day here, but it felt good as we hiked the mostly flat trail to Corniglia, passing only a handful of other hikes en route to Manarola. Just past the train platform are the 382 stairs leading up to the town. Quite the warm up workout for the rest of the hike! Corniglia is quaint, quiet, the smallest of the 5 towns. I wonder if it just experiences a flow of thru-hikers during the day, going in both directions. We had yummy pastries and cappuccini at a bar run by a very sweet older lady. She was very kind and obviously receptive to foreign travelers. After getting our fill and full of energy, we bid arrivederci to piccolo Corniglia and started the trek to Vernazza.

This section of trail was definitely harder than the last, with lots of up and down (mostly up) sections of stairs, in and out of sun and shade around numerous bends. The views of the Med are quite stunning from the trail. We started experiencing more hikers now that it was around 10 AM, but not totally crowded and passable in wider spots on the trail. We snapped lots of shots along the way, until finally cresting the hill looking down into Vernazza. Definitely larger and more touristed than Manarola or Corniglia, Vernazza is Rick Steves’ home base of choice in the CT and I can see why. It has a likeable charm to it that isn’t totally overwhelming or tacky. If I hadn’t picked Manarola, we probably would have stayed here. We wandered down to the harbor to gawk at sunbathers and tourists getting off tour boats, sit on the breakwater, and enjoy the views. Vernazza’s harbor is definitely picturesque, with the colorful boats and buildings in all pastel colors. We did some window shopping, Kirstin bought a nice white top, and also sampled some not-so-perfect gelato (again, still haven’t found the best in Italy, Caffe Centrale’s in Asolo was tops to date) before deciding to tackle the last stretch of trail to Monterosso.

This section was billed as the “toughest but worth it”, but the first stretch out of Vernazza was not all that bad. No death-defying drops into the mare, that’s for sure. It was a nice mix of stairs, scarps, and level trail through plentiful groves of olives, lemons, and grape vineyards. We saw a lot of tracks for the “trenino”, essentially a mini-monorail/train that the farmers use to help bring the harvest down the hill. No passengers, please. Did I already mention how small a world this is? We ran into the couple from L.A. on the trail who stayed in Monterosso, another couple from Salem, OR, another couple I helped in Venezia Mestre train station due to the sciopero, and also the couple from Bend who were staying above us at Maria #3 in Manarola (this was at the cafe in Monterosso after the hike). Too funny. Anyhow, we were getting hungry and tired towards the end of the hike that seemed to go on and on. As we neared Monterosso, the trail definitely got more crowded with midday hikers, it was narrower and harder to pass simultaneously, and the downhill stairs were seriously testing our quads. Some of the footwear one sees on the CT trails is unbelievable, flip-flops being the most unbelievable. I was happy to know we weren’t going to have to hike back to Manarola, as the steep section of hundreds of stairs from Monterosso would have been brutal. Finally, after about 5 hrs. 15 min. of hiking and dawdling, we entered the largest and most resorty town, Monterosso.

The first order of business was to get some lunch in our bellies. We spotted an outdoor terrace cafe Bar Nuovo Eden and staked our claim. After last evening’s debacle at Billy’s, we decided to just order one set of dishes and split everything. It was a yummy assortment of mixed bruschetta (including one with anchovy which was surprisingly good), seafood salad with lots of tentacles and octopi, tortellini with cream and prosciutto, and a 1/4-L of CT vino bianco from Riomaggiore. Perfect to feed hungry stomachs and tired feet. With my espresso to complete the meal, we escaped for a third of what we had paid the night before. We resolved to not get duped again and split meals the rest of the trip. Lots of Italians were out soaking up the sun in their skimpy suits (yes, women AND men both), and we decided to join them on the pebbly beach for a sit. The water was fairly cold and neither of us were prepared to go in, so I just had a little touch to say we had been there. After strolling the resort streets of Monterosso for a while, we were feeling tired from our day of hiking and hopped a short train ride back home to Manarola.

Kirstin and I cleaned up, did more laundry, and chilled out on the terrace before our dinner reservation at 20:00 at Marina Piccola, the same place we had met Claudio our first night in the CT. One observation we had made repeatedly since arriving in Italy was the pace around mealtime. There just isn’t any rushing customers out the door. I think restaurants must only plan on 2 seatings per night because you could probably sit at your table all night long and still not have the bill brought to you. It’s a conscious choice and effort to get the check and settle up. There’s no crowd of hungry diners waiting up front and ogling your table, it just doesn’t work that way. The menu at Marina Piccola was seafood heavy but hey, when in Liguria, eat fruits of the sea (and pesto). Kirstin and I split a huge mound of steamed mussels in garlicky, lemony broth, just incredible. Kirstin ended up with the linguini with granchi (crab) and I had the mixed grilled shellfish with basically shrimp, prawn, and bati bati, a type of small lobster. We had planned on splitting everything but kind of just nibbled off the other’s plate. It was all fresh and good, although Kirstin’s pasta just didn’t live up to the Due Mori in Asolo.

After dinner, we wandered back to the Cantina Zio Bramante (literally Uncle Bramante’s) where we’d had aperitivi of prosecco and spritz con Aperol before dinner. The bar had an acoustic guitar set up, and apparently our bartender also provided live music as well. Country music is what he played, we were told. Turns out it wasn’t so much Willie Nelson or Garth Brooks as it was Italian country, totally cool. I actually sang a James Taylor tune with him as well! After a stiff limoncino (lemon liquor) and sciachetra (dessert wine from the CT, about 18% alcohol) and couple more tunes, it was time to retire for our last night in Manarola, listening to the waves crashing on the rocks below our room.

Ciao, Tom