November in the Cinque Terre

Gladiator

The skies are blue, the sun hot, the shadows cold and the nights crisp. The Cinque Terre is settling down for the winter. Shops and restaurants  are beginning to shut down.  We, and our American visitors, are amongst the last of the straggling tourists filling the regional train that putters out of La Spezia and burrows through mountains to the fairytale pretty Cinque Terre (or 5T as it is abbreviated.) The train journey is a tease -one second, an expanse of infinity, sea meeting sky, the sun a dazzling globe of light that sends ripples of sparkles over peaceful water, the next dark grungy tunnels.

‘Doing’ the 5T requires following the various trails which spider up and down the mountains. However one of my many mantras in life is ‘If it doesn’t make you happy- don’t do it’ 

I gave a firm but gracious ‘no’ to hiking the Cinque Terre. I am scared of heights so would have had to climb the infinite steps on all fours whilst whimpering. Acting selflessly I did not want to spoil the idyllic peace of the Cinque Terre by screeching on the edgy bits. Or invite the sound of helicopter blades should I freeze or fall off one of the picturesque cliffs into the picturesque sea, impaled by tasty but thorny picturesque  fighi d’indie cacti on the way down.  

To make extra, extra sure that no amount of cajoling would persuade me from the martyrdom of my selfless decision, I had worn a new dress, unsuitable hint-of-blisters boots (Euro fine 2500 for wrong shoes hiking), various thin jumpers and, to be on the safe side, silk La Perla lingerie for emergency deployment. https://www.thelocal.it/20190306/stop-trekking-in-flip-flops-italys-cinque-terre-begs-tourists

After  waving GS and friends off  as they dragged off towards the somewhat cliffy mountains looming behind Vernazza, I raided the Pensione Sorriso https://www.ilsorrisodivernazza.com honesty fridge for a healthy glass of chilled white wine and headed to the roof top terrace  content in the knowledge  that I had chosen winter sunbathing heaven over  mountainous staircase hell.

I should have been catching up with emails but sometimes you just have to let the sun fall on closed eyes and enjoy the moment. Especially when  the alternative is 16500 steps with a climb of 85 floors. 

I was almost alone on this sunny terrace floating above Vernazza. Below me candy colour dolls-house terraces  stacked like dominoes  either side of  the main street that curved towards  the sea. Little rowing boats were already covered and resting on the cobbles. It was just me, a few sparrows and a couple of fighi d’indie sunbathing against a pink wall to keep me company.  The November sun was delicious- toasting my shoulders. A honey bee came to investigate whether an empty banana skin (stolen from the remains of breakfast) was a source of nectar.  Completely immune to FOMO it was eyes shut while I enjoyed the sounds of Vernazza on the Cinque Terre;

* lazy church bells;

* station announcement for the little train that toots, and screechs as it  pops in and out of tunnels between the five villages; 

* the flapping of washing, occasionally obliterated by the intermittent sound of  building work; 

* the sound of a river rushing through a ravine  before disappearing  beneath the road;

* a lady in a bar downstairs clinking plates, a man calling down to the maidens below playing language bingo in the hope of getting a hit, teens chatting in high spirits on the station platform…

I got up to take a photograph.

And then I realised that the twig on the tile was A SNAKE.

Sunshine, a glass of wine and a banana - what more could a girl wish for?
Sunbathing fighi d'indie sunbathing against a raspberry coloured wall.
The Ligurian Anaconda. Definitely not a twig.

Screeching echoed around the upper echelons of Vernazza. Deafened, the little snake did not move. This lured me into the false assumption that it was in fact a  dead snake. Approaching for a close up shot I saw that the little deceased snake (RIP) was a  jewel of incredible intricacy, even its little face. Just then lifted its head and stuck its forked tongue out.

I leapt to the lower garden in one bound. From a safe distance I watched its progress. It’s body must have been made out of coiled spring as one second it was about 6 inches of serpentine loops, the next, lengthening to a good foot.  Snakey slunk off coil-straighten- coil- straighten to the cliff.  

Some time later,  the coast was a clear for a return to my glass of wine, and the dropping of the winter sun.

The valiant hikers returned and so  it was sunset pizza and nibbles with Hugo Spritz watching the sun bathe the church and buildings in shades of orange and gold, before dropping in a blaze over the horizon.

Everything was picturesque in a chilly, crisp wintery way. November can be rainy but we have been treated to skies that vary between a cloudless china blue to dusks of midnight blue that could have been painted by Van Gogh.

China blue skies
Sunset in the Cinque Terre
Dusks of midnight blue that could have been painted by Van Gogh (Lucca antiteatro)

The next day, after a hearty breakfast, it was off to Manorola for some shopping and culture.

Hand drawn tablecloths beloved by GS
A variation on the usual Gladiator vibe
Momento Mori- Remember you are mortal. Slaves used to whisper this to Emperors during Triumphal processions.

There is romance and love throughout every corner in Italy- from handholding to stolen kisses, from achingly romantic  views to graffiti filled with longing.  It’s contagious, it wraps you up and snuggles you in. 

Our  outing over it’s  now back to squishy sofas and red-embered flaming log fires, dinners with friends and a new favourite- light and fluffy pandoro cake- the beginnings of the taste of Christmas- doused with Vin Santo. 

Simple pleasures
With you- or without you. But, without you I can only die. Addio- to God.
Train travel - eternally romantic

 I do hope you have enjoyed my little bloglet – if so, please do like. comment, follow and share! Thank you 🙂

6 Comments

  1. You had me all relaxed and dreamy-eyed until the twig that wasn’t a twig. I could hear your scream and jumped with you!

    1. Ha ha!Yes, it did rather change the vibe! But made me think that it must have been so quiet on that sunny terrace, quiet enough for a snake to be relaxed – at least until I showed up! X

  2. Brings back lovely memories of Cinque Terre last month, with a soupçon of jealousy for your glorious weather while we had overcast and drizzle. Nonetheless, I totally relate to preferring a glass of wine in the sun to the rigorous hiking of your companions. Bad enough the 308 or so steps up into town from the train station in Corniglia. Especially love the lingerie!

    1. Italian weather in November can be completely drenching – we were book marked by downpours so very lucky. I do love the rain in Italy but it is for snuggling in front of a fire and listening to the patter on the windows, and definitely not sight seeing! Life definitely gets easier if you adopt the mantra- if it doesn’t make you happy, don’t do it! x

  3. Fabulous time with you and GS! Lovely words and pics.

    The American Couple

    1. Thank you! Great to have the Adventurers with us!

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