Cinque Terre ~ sea monsters and seaside towns
I have always been a fan of Disney and Pixar films. I loved Peter Pan growing up and still consider myself a kid at heart. As a young boy I had a wild imagination, and it would take me around the world, and beyond. My bed would be my rocket ship or space ship and my backyard became distant places to explore. Luca is one of my favorite recent Pixar films. I relate to young Luca in a number of ways. Not the sea monster part, but the part where he is stuck longing for a world just out of reach. I was a shy, quiet kid in real life, but inside my own head, I was the hero of every story I could dream up.
Growing up, one of my best friends was the opposite of me. He was outgoing, down to earth, and lived life without a care in the world. He challenged me to take risks I never would have taken on my own. We rode our bikes through the neighborhood, past the few blocks my parents were comfortable with. We built things in the backyard and talked about dreams and the future. In a lot of ways, he was the Alberto to my Luca. The other reason Luca has stayed with me is the location. The picturesque little Italian coastal town, fashioned after the Cinque Terre, a place I first heard about years ago from Rick Steves and his PBS travel shows.
When I planned this summer's adventure through Italy, the Cinque Terre sat at the top of my list. I rewatched Rick Steves' episode on the five coastal villages and used his guidebook to pick a village to make my home base for four nights. I also rewatched Luca a couple of times and made sure to pack my swim trunks.
I traveled from Verona, and three trains later, I found myself in the heart of Vernazza, one of the five towns. My guesthouse had no front desk. Following the instructions, I texted the owner, Giovanni, who came down the stairs and led me to my room. Once I stepped inside, I understood why I had chosen the place. It had stone walls and plaster, and a window cut right into the stone that looked out over the main square and the sea. Vernazza looked like a scene straight out of Luca. Giovanni apologized because the bathroom sink was broken, but promised he would come back with a plumber later that day.
I wandered the town and found a late lunch of seafood pasta, sitting outside and watching the world go by. Vernazza was full of tourists, Italians on holiday and Americans exploring the shops, the beach, and the Ligurian Sea. Most were day trippers, moving quickly through each of the five villages. When I got back to my room, Giovanni and the plumber were finishing up the pipe. Giovanni noticed a Rick Steves Italy guidebook on my bed and told me he had met Rick Steves in 2002, when his parents rented this very room to him. I told Giovanni I was from Seattle, and that Rick Steves lived just north of the city, in Edmonds. Giovanni laughed and said it was because of Rick Steves that so many Americans find their way to the Cinque Terre.
I spent the next few days exploring each coastal town. They are small, set into the hillside, facing the sea. In many ways the towns feel similar, but each has its own personality. During the day, every town filled up with tourists, and most of the restaurants and souvenir shops in the center felt interchangeable, the same menus, the same trinkets, wherever you went. But if you wander away from the crowds, through the winding corridors and up and down the steps, you find artist studios and restaurants serving authentic regional food.
In each town I tried to get that one photo that captured the place. In Vernazza, I hiked up the main trail above town, the start of the Sentiero Azzurro toward Monterosso, just a short climb through the vineyards behind the church. Ten minutes of stairs and you are looking straight down at the harbor, the old watchtower, and the whole curve of colorful buildings against the sea. I also climbed up to the Doria Castle above the harbor, a ruin dating back to the eleventh century, with a small round tower still standing at its center. A couple of euros gets you to the top, and from there the whole town opens up below, rooftops, boats, the sea stretching out past the breakwater. Manarola and Riomaggiore had their own spots too, easy walks right along the water looking up at the buildings in yellow, pink, sea green, and orange. Monterosso and Corniglia were harder to photograph. I never found the perfect spot in either one, but I still walked away with a photo of each of the five towns.
I swam every day, some mornings at seven before they raked the sand, some evenings as the sun dropped into the sea. I never saw a sea monster, but I felt like a kid again, going from sea to land, having my own small Luca moment. The World Cup is everywhere in Italy, and restaurants wheeled out their televisions each evening to watch the games. Belgium's win over Senegal was a thrill to watch with a crowd. I stayed up for the United States match against Bosnia and Herzegovina too, though it kicked off at two in the morning, so I watched that one from my room. I could hear cheers rising from windows all over town when the U.S. scored, and I knew I was not the only one still awake.
On my last night, after one final swim in the Ligurian Sea, I sat on a stone at the edge of the coast and watched the water. There were people all around, some taking sunset photos, couples with their arms around each other, kids holding gelato as the day went to sleep. Moments like that always leave me with a quiet sense of calm and joy. I thought about people from all over the world, gathered to watch the same sunset. I thought about the sacrifices that make this kind of travel possible. I thought about everyone who found their way to the Cinque Terre because of a chapter in a Rick Steves book, or because they watched a Pixar film. And I thought about the shy kid with the big imagination, and wondered what he would think of the person I became. I am not perfect, but I try to live a life full of curiosity, real experience, and the kind of risks that help us grow.
