Vernazza, Italy, from the Cinque Terre trail

Ciao! I am writing from one of two internet cafes in the tiny Italian resort village of Monterosso, part of the famous Cinque Terre (”five lands”) on the Italian Riviera. The towns are part of a quasi National Park, and besides the train line, a few cars and the Internet, they feel untouched by time. I am staying in an apartment with Matt and Kate, two awesome Canadians I met a few days ago in Nice, and two others: Jesse from Jersey and Steve, another Canadian. Last night there were three more, two studying in Lake Forest, Illinois, and one other guy from UW-Madison who will be interning at Chicago Public Radio this summer, where I was an intern for several months during college. I’m seeing over and over that it truly is a small world — even in small-town Italia.

I got into town after a great sendoff from Nice: another night in the patio drinking cheap beer to the sounds of the city and the light of the stars above (are those Springsteen lyrics?). A painfully slow train ride brought me to Monterosso, the farthest north of the Cinque Terre towns. The villages are connected in three ways: boat, rail and a famous dirt path — the area’s main attraction. This is the way folks got between villages centuries ago: a rocky path snaking thousands of feet up and down between the towns, often one side overgrown with lemon and grape orchards; the other a sheer cliff down to the sea.

Monterosso, Italy

This morning we started the trek around 11 and sweated our way to the next few towns, Vernazza and Corniglia. Before long, the path evened out and we walked briskly through Manarola and Riomaggiore, the two farthest from Monterosso. All in all, it took about five hours; par for the course. We stopped in Riomaggiore for a celebratory beer with a grand view of the Mediterranean. Heaven, folks.

Our apartment in Monterosso is owned by a guy named Manuel, who spends the summer sleeping in his tool shed so he can rent his charming flat out to wide-eyed foreigners. Left with little to do, he proudly walks his dog around town — all day. He is probably living very well, as throngs of tourists renting his 2nd-floor apartment pay most of the bills, leaving copious time for gardening and strolling.

Monterosso from our balcony

From our balcony we can see down to the village (we are about 200 steps up from the main square — there is no road), up to the mountains and deep into the sea. Without craning our necks, we see little old Italian ladies hanging clothes to dry, picking lemons (one of the region’s specialties, along with pesto) and tending to an endless supply of stray cats.

Having consulted with my new friends from Ontario, New Jersey and New Brunswick, I am adding Interlaken, a fun town in Switzerland’s Jungfrau mountain range, to my itinerary. I already have a bed booked at the Funny Farm, a hostel known for its Bohemian spirit and raucous happy hours.

Anyway, gonna go back and sit on the patio, but tomorrow I am off to Florence. More to come from there, and hopefully some laundry will be done using a contraption more technologically advanced than a sink!