I took a moment to catch my breath as I rested against the mossy, rocky ledge and set down my heavy yellow backpack. My friends and I were just about midway through an exhausting hike up the winding paths of Vernazza, one of the five quaint and charmingly old-fashioned wine-producing villages that make up Italy’s Cinque Terre, or “five lands.” As I sipped cool Evian alongside my companions, I surveyed the picturesque scene below, along with the hilly terrain I just covered. Jagged cliffs etched into the pristine beaches of the Atlantic, terraced vineyards and groves striped the steep emerald slopes, red and blue rowboats bobbed slowly, silently in the harbor, and the unique homes bathed in warm greens, blues, pinks and yellows; the scene had the makings of the ideal watercolor painting. Gazing at the truly breathtaking view of the sun spilling its last rays onto the crystal clear waters and the village rooftops (arguably the most beautiful view in all the Cinque Terre), I came to this conclusion: the Cinque Terre has become my most treasured Italian destination.

The “five lands” of the Cinque Terre, Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Montorosso, encompass all the charm, beauty, and culture of the more popular Italian tourist sites such as Rome, Florence, or Venice. But I found the Cinque Terre offers a more relaxed, slow-paced, and traditional experience; not nearly as touristy and definitely not for those travelers seeking service and comfort around every piazza. The Cinque Terre requires a bit of legwork, both literally and figuratively, to take full advantage of the distinctive experience the area has to offer. Much of the region has been untouched by modern technology and development, with few roadways and more bicycles than automobiles. In fact, accessing the area by car is a tricky task due to the hilly terrains and dirt roads; parking space is seriously limited, and there is little means of navigation through the villages and across towns by driving. The old train or the ferries offer the best mode of transportation into and out of these tiny communities.

Tourism seems to have had little to no effect on village development and the lives of the townspeople. Tourists will not stumble upon gelaterias on every other street, nor see gypsies hawking the bouncing Mickey Mouse figures that mysteriously dance on their own as European techno blasts from the vendor’s boom box (a phenomenon I found strangely common in Rome and Florence). Nestled in the slopes of Italy’s Liguria region and pressed against the beaches of the Mediterranean coast, the “five lands” of the Cinque Terre thrive off their extensive wine-production yielded by the vast and plentiful vineyards that sprawl across the steep hillsides. The rocky slopes begin where the shores end, leaving little suitable growing space and forcing the village farmers to utilize a unique system of terraced growing called terrazza, which only adds to the personality of the region.

I wound up in the Cinque Terre as a result of a long day’s excursion from the nearby coastal town of Sestri Levante, less than an hour’s rickety, bumpy train-ride away and home of the historic Villa Balbi, lodging that came to us courtesy of some wealthy distant relatives of my friend. Greeting us shortly after we unloaded from the train in the first town, Riomaggiore, an older, scruffy-looking local gentleman sporting a worn bowler’s hat began inquiring in broken English about our lodging plans for the night. “Place to stay? I have beautiful home, very cheap, very beautiful.” We politely informed him that we had no plans to stay overnight, quite wary, as are most Americans, much less natives of New Jersey, at his question. However, my boyfriend quickly cleared up all suspicion; he ascertained from friends in Cannes who had traveled through the Cinque Terre previously that year that this particular local was trustworthy and reliable for a clean, cozy, and affordable place to stay. Apparently these college backpackers found comfortable lodging at his modest but pleasant home in the hills with the most stunning view of Riomaggiore in all its fabulousness for only twenty dollars a night. Immediately, I knew that the Cinque Terre would have a personality much like that of the old man—friendly, old-fashioned, and one of a kind.

Sure enough, we found this kind of hospitality and welcoming behavior to be standard practice throughout all of the Cinque Terre, from the owners of the tiny shops buried in the hills selling handcrafted scrapbooks and keepsakes, to the owners of the delectable restaurants and cafes we frequented to enjoy fresh locally grown pesto dishes, cappuccino served the traditional Italian way—warm, not hot—and my favorite Cinque Terre specialty and local treasure, Sciacchetra. This super sweet and strong, yet satisfying dessert wine, found only in the Cinque Terra—trust me, we searched long and hard back in the States to no avail—served as a complimentary finale to any lunch or dinner meal, along with an assortment of crisp Italian cookies. Preparation of Sciacchetra requires eight times as many grapes as other wines because of the low 25% yield of the locally grown Vermentino, Baseo, and Albarola grapes from which it is derived. The richness and rareness of this nectar of the Italian vineyards seemed to fittingly reflect the very essence of this distinctive region.

While the Cinque Terre are five towns similar in their old-world Italian style and Mediterranean atmosphere, each village possesses its own dose of local flavor that makes traveling from one to the next especially worthwhile for any adventure-seeking tourist. Many visitors will opt to journey between villages by way of a challenging hike across the intricate paths running along the hills, narrow trails that flow between the hillside white stucco homes, up steep stairways and through the vineyards and groves. My unfortunate crew always chose option B, that is, back to the rickety, bumpy old train, mostly due to time constraints, and once because we felt an intense rainstorm fast approaching. Ideally, I recommend taking the more beautiful and scenic long haul.

After strolling the narrow beaches packed with foreign visitors and marveling at the first sights of the dramatic cliffs with homes seemingly wedged into their crevices, we departed Riomaggiore (the most populated and touristy of the five towns) and headed north on a four-minute train ride to Manarola, a trip that would have taken over an hour by foot due to the difficult nature of the mountainous hiking trails that snake alongside the hills. I soon discovered that fishing, next to agriculture, is a major industry in the Cinque Terre, and observed several sections of Manarola that seemed, in my mind, representative of a classic Italian fishing village. The harbor of Manarola lies just about fifty feet below the town’s edge, and tiny wooden skiffs are hoisted to and from the waters by a simple system of pulleys. We paused for a half hour to view this spectacle; the deliberate sluggishness at which the fisherman raised the crafts soothed me and helped relax my weary body, offering a much-needed breather after our steep trek in the hills. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the magnificent aromas of Italian cooking surrounding me—most likely a savory blend of warm garlic, fragrant olive oil originating from the local groves, and flavorful pesto sauces you cannot find anywhere else but the Cinque Terre, the actual birthplace of pesto. My mouth watered as the four of us agreed to dine on the ivy-decked terrace of a lovely bistro in Vernazza.

Extended conversation over a dinner of delicious pesto dishes, fresh ensalata caprese, topped off with, of course, heavy doses of Sciacchetra, provided the perfect ending to our Cinque Terre excursion, and left us rather fatigued but certainly reluctant to leave our newly discovered Italian treasure. Everything from the untainted beaches to the intricate structure of the terrazza, the hospitable townsfolk to the pastel-colored homes, left our entire party enchanted with this gorgeous Ligurian region. We said goodbye to the “five lands” with full stomachs, unforgettable images, plenty of Sciacchetra, and the knowledge that we had experienced one of the most unique and treasured regions of Italy.

© Chelsea Walton, 2004

About the Author Chelsea Walton was taken by the magic of the Cinque Terre during a four-week trip around Europe in her sophomore year of college, and vows to return to the Italian villages the summer after graduation. In the meantime, she spends her days studying and partaking in her favorite hobbies - photography, watercoloring, and snowboarding. She is currently a senior at Villanova University studying Communication and English, but calls Pennington, New Jersey home.

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