July 6 - Rapture of the Terre

This is the day we decided to drive to La Spezia and visit Cinque Terre.  It is a small section of the tuscan coast that has 5 quaint fishing villages clinging to it's rocky coastline.  They are largely inaccessible by car but are served by rail and boat.  These villages are the template for the fictitious home of Pasquale in one of my favorite books - Beautiful Ruins.  These lovely seaside towns would have remained blissfully in obscurity if Rick Steves had not written about it so breathlessly and, as such, thrust it onto every tourist itinerary.    

  

When we arrived, I dropped Jack and the girls off at the seaside and drove back up the long hill to find a parking space.  When we reunited he said "I found where all the Americans are"!  We had remarked that there were surprisingly few in FdM - well, we got our fill today!! 

The towns were obviously once quaint and delightful and, I'm sure feel very untouched in the fall and winter - but summer belongs to the tourists.  We joined the hordes and and wandered through the towns.  Finally, Jack succeeded in convincing us to ignore the blistering heat and take the first few steps up the hill on the trail that connects one town to the next.  With Natalie loaded on Jack's back and the older two begrudgingly plodding along behind, we managed to leave the madding crowd behind by gaining just a little altitude.  We reached the obvious lookout point in about 10 minutes.  Uncharacteristically, it was me who suggested that we climb just a little higher to see what was around the next bend.  That is usually Jack's role!  I reached the next turn in the path and called down excitedly ... "There's a bar up here!"   What could be better in the blistering heat and the crushing crowd but an aperitivo with a view!  It was magical!  Peaceful, beautiful, perfect.

We slogged back to Riomaggorio - the town where we parked - and grabbed a misto fritto and pizza for dinner.   The accumulated heat of the day hit us all hard and we got back to FdM that night and hit the hay, hard.