Italy, Part I
Our grand adventure took us to Venice next, and the completion of an item from my twenties list - backpacking Europe (or a part thereof). M and I flew out of Manchester on a crisp, clear day. We flew over Germany and the Swiss Alps, before the land below us flattened into fields, cities, and finally marshes and the lagoon. Outside the Marco Polo airport heavy, damp air pressed upon us and the heat reminded us of home. We caught a water taxi across the lagoon into Venice proper, then navigated along canals and across bridges to our accommodation. In the late afternoon we ventured out, weaving through crowds of tourists and admiring the wares for sale along the Grand Canal. We ate pasta and pizza for dinner, bought gelato for dessert and fell asleep to the chatter rising from the square outside our window. Our main plan in Venice was to lose ourselves - just explore what took our fancy. The first morning we headed in the general direction of Piazza San Marco to see the Basilica, our only preplanned destination. We wandered along twisting alleys, followed the edge of the island, and in the afternoon followed a tiny sign towards an art exhibition located in a half-demolished building. We watched the sunset from the islands edge with slices of pizza and after dark fell we took a ride along the Grand Canal to the island Lido and back, passing beautifully crafted old buildings and peering into windows where we could - watching the locals eat, talk, play. After Venice was a succession of trains to the Cinque Terre and a couple of days hiking. The coast line is so beautiful and the shades of blue could have captivated me forever - endless, with no boundary between sea and sky. We stayed in Riomaggiore, the southernmost town set climbing up a valley along the coast. The first of the four trails was closed so we caught the train to Manarola, the next. Because we never do anything the easy way, from here we headed inland and began walking up over the mountainous coastline, rather than along its edge, before descending down into Corniglia. We stopped in a tiny cafe for focaccia (later m and I agreed this was the best food of the trip - and only partly because we'd been hiking for three hours on empty stomachs). We spent some time exploring the streets before beginning our final trek along the coastline to Vernazza. We caught the train back to Riomaggiore exhausted and dusty but exhilarated. We hiked for six hours along the 'high path', rather than the more well known (easier) 'blue path'. That night we ate in Bar Centrale, an outdoor bar set onto the steep street. The football world cup was playing and a TV was bought out to watch the match; the locals didn't care who was playing or who won but cheered equally as they drank and talked excitedly.
Snow capped mountains, and hazy patchwork fields. First impressions of Venice - the bustling Grand Canal. Tourist shot - m in Piazza San Marco, in front of the Basilica. The Bridge of Sighs. I was very taken with any gardens on this collection of islands, especially this backyard. This sign tucked deep in a courtyard caught our attention. The art exhibit beyond was possibly my favorite part of Venice. The display on the second floor, which we visited first. Poster on the third floor wall, where we looked next.The guest book was filled with notes from adventurous people who 'were not afraid'.Back on the first floor the building was much more conventional and filled with displays detailing its function, advocating 'publicy not publicity'. Watching life happen in the square below from our tiny balcony. Sunset on the edge of the island. The Rialto bridge at night. The first of many trains. We were train experts by the end of our travels!Little bay at the end of the street. All streets lead to the ocean. Endless, beautiful views. The street outside our rooms and Bar Centrale, where we ate and watched football with the locals. Rooftop views, towards the coast, and back up the street. We walked with no purpose other than to get closer to the sunset. People leaned out their windows to watch the sunset, and gathered along the streets to take pictures. Manarola, where we began our hiking. The beginning of the high path up and over the mountain. From the top of the mountain, looking down to where we started from. This wasn't even half way to the next town!The steep hillside we walked along, and Manarola in the distance.
Looking ahead to our destination, and lunch.Corniglia is perched up high on the cliff face; the only town without direct access to the ocean. We made our way back down the mountain into the town and spent some time resting, telling each other, 'Look how far we've walked!' It was hard work. Nearing the end of our trek. In the very distance is Manarola, where we began, then Corniglia. This is just before we began descending into Vernazza. Vernazza, our final destination In the distance ahead you can see Monterosso, the final town. We cheated and caught the train there. A quick stop in the shade on our descent into Vernazza. The sun and heat were brutal. The bay at Vernazza. After we caught the train back to Riomaggiore.