All the Best Things, One After Another
May 13-16, 2016
Situated on the northern Mediterranean coast of Italy, the Cinque Terre is comprised of five small towns built into seaside cliffs. These picturesque villages are connected by foot paths built into the terraced hills that were used by merchants for hundreds of years. Today, the "Blue Trail" that connects the five towns is considered one of the most beautiful hiking paths in all of Europe.
We booked flights in and out of Pisa for a long weekend, flying out Friday evening after Mazz finished work. As we do in every new city we stay, we asked our Airbnb host for a dinner recommendation, and she pointed us to a place called Ristorante Galileo that was not far from our apartment. The set menu, which cost only €25 per person, began with a leek soufflé with cheese fondue, tortellini with Pisano beef and Tuscan Ragu, and freshly baked focaccia. The main course was a simple yet delicious dish of sliced grilled beef under a layer of arugula and slices of fresh Parmesan and roasted potatoes. This was followed by cookies and biscotti served with sweet fortified wine, and a shot of espresso we really didn't need at 10pm but happily drank anyway.
Behind us was a classic Italian family dinner scene, where a giant table was set for over 15 people with the senior patriarch seated at the head of the table. Everyone passed plates around the table talking and laughing while small children ran around, cheerfully circling the party. Stuffed and content, we slowly finished our carafe of wine while enjoying the warm and affectionate interactions of the massive Italian family.
The next morning we went to go look at some lopsided tower and then made our way to Pisa Centrale train station. Getting to La Spezia, which acts as a hub to the Cinque Terre only takes about an hour from Pisa and costs €7.50. From La Spezia, a different train runs every half hour between the five towns. We checked in and got situated in our room in Manarola, then headed off to the northernmost town of Monterosso to begin our hike. There was a lemon festival happening in Monterosso that day, with the whole town square decorated in yellow and green streamers with dozens of stands offering lemonade, lemon cakes, limoncello, and more. We grabbed some quick focaccia pizza, which was pretty un-excellent by Italian standards and expectations, followed it up with some very good homemade lemon and orange cake from a stand, and hit the trail.
Before we left Berlin, the weather forecast for the weekend in Italy said it was supposed to be in the low 60s and overcast with a strong chance of rain. When we started hiking, the temperature was in the mid 70s with clear blue sunny skies, and Kirb immediately felt like total dum dum for not bringing shorts. The trail from Monterosso to Vernazza takes around 2-3 hours, rising and descending with hundreds and hundreds of stone steps built into the lush, flowering hillsides. Every corner offered incredible views of the coastline, with panoramic views of Monterosso behind us and Vernazza up ahead.
We reached Vernazza sweaty and parched, and immediately stopped at a small market for cold water, sparkling lemonade, and beer to satisfy all our thirsty desires. Once satiated, we made our way up to the top of Castello Doria, the oldest remaining fortification in the Cinque Terre, which was thought to have been built around A.D. 1000 to defend against pirates. Though it is now mostly ruins, climbing up the remaining tower allowed us to soak in 360-degree views of the town, sea, and surrounding countryside.
With the sunset looming, we decided to take the train back down to the southernmost town of Riomaggiore so we could walk the 30 minute "Lover's Path" back to Manarola at dusk. After exploring Riomaggiore a bit, we set off to the path only to find it gated up. We knew that the trail between Manarola and Vernazza was closed for repairs, but not this one too. We both agreed that maybe the people selling tickets to the national park should tell visitors that 2 of the 4 trails connecting the towns are indefinitely closed.
Our Airbnb host Maria had recommended two restaurants for us in Manarola; we chose to start with Marina Piccola, which is situated right on the waterfront. We ordered a carafe of white wine, fresh anchovies with lemon, swordfish and tuna linguine, and seared tuna. The anchovies, wine, and ambiance were excellent, but the rest of the food wasn't the mind-blowing fresh pasta and seafood we had been hoping for. Still, it's hard to be disappointed with anything when you're sipping wine on the waterfront as the sun sets over the Mediterranean.
Our hike for the next day began in Corniglia, the middle city of the Cinque Terre. Though all five of the towns have their own unique vibe, there was something about how laid back and quaint Corniglia was that really resonated with both of us. From the train stop, you have to walk up around 400 steps before you reach the town, which is set high up on a cliff top overlooking the other 4 towns in both directions. Already sweaty before the hike even began, we made one of the gelato shops at the top of the stairs our first stop. After exploring the town a bit, we noticed a group of people drinking ice-cold orangish cocktails on a picturesque terrace and decided that we needed to be doing that as well. We spent the early afternoon leisurely sipping Aperol Spritz and snacking on fresh pesto and anchovies on toast until we decided it was time to hit the trail.
Though not quite as intense of an elevation gain and decline as the day before, the trail from Corniglia to Vernazza still had lots of stone stairs ascending and descending the cliff sides. Hiking in jeans, a button-up shirt, and a wool baseball hat, Kirb quickly became a soggy sweat bag who dripped and leaked on everything he came in contact with.
Arriving in Vernazza this time from the southeast end of town, we made our way directly to the water, where Kirb immediately stripped down to his underpants and jumped in the water. We sat on the waterfront with our feet in the surf and enjoyed an amazing snack lunch of Italian cured meats, cheeses, and focaccia. Once we'd cooled off and Kirb's sweaty clothes had a chance to dry out a bit in the sun, we perused the local shops and bought some souvenirs before making our way back to Manarola on the train for dinner.
Cars are forbidden in the main parts of the towns, so everyone who comes into the Cinque Terre has to rely on the train. The trains don't generally run on time in Italy, it would seem. We overheard an old Italian man explaining in English to some other tourists that they have never run on time, and even after they added more trains to try and remedy the situation nothing has really changed. Sometimes when the trains were running especially late, the platforms would swell with as many people as could possibly fit on them, packed in shoulder to shoulder. Cinque Terre is an incredibly popular tourist destination, especially for Americans. As a result, we came across some of the most despisable Americans that exist while waiting for trains: college tourists blinded by privilege.
After one particularly gnarly platform mob, six American College girls made their way to open seats near us, with one practically shouting, "OH MY GOD I HATE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION! Especially trains! JENNY! WHERE IS MY POWERADE! I NEED ELECTROLYTES!" Apropos of nothing, her friend chimed in loud enough for everyone on the very crowded train to hear, "We should shoot my book cover here. I'm just going to live here and write my vegetarian cookbooks. I'm going to change the way the world sees vegetarian cooking. I don't even really care if you eat meat and it's sustainable, but I think I could change the way Italy thinks about vegetarian food." Their sheer naïveté, which bordered on lunacy, had Kirb paralyzed in his seat, begging for the sweet release of death. Mazz was actively attempting to murder them with her eyeballs. Oh, you're going to change the way one of the world's greatest culinary cultures thinks about food? PLEASE, TELL ME MORE, AMERICAN COLLEGE STUDENT. The girl sitting across from Kirb, who had been silently abiding her friends, clearly noticed him squirming. Mazz, tired of this rampant ignorance bringing rage into her previously serene Italian Riviera vacation, recommended we find new seats, and Kirb happily obliged. The girl started cracking up as we fled from her monstrously oblivious companions.
A short walk up the Manarola hillside, past the local church and superglued to the side of a cliff overlooking the water and town below, sits Trattoria dal Billy, the second restaurant our Airbnb host had recommended to us. We hadn’t anticipated needing a reservation, but they're strongly recommended, as the restaurant tends to be booked out every night. We lucked out and got the only open table for the evening. The first thing we noticed as we were seated was another table literally covered with giant bottles of alcohol, and both of us wondered aloud how we could get in on that action. Our waitress casually told us not to worry about all that. She was an American who had lived in the Cinque Terre for 15 years, and was happy to give recommendations on what to order. We took her advice and started with the nondescript Mixed Antipasto di Mare. What we got was an amazing array of 12 different bite size appetizers: Fried bread with orange essence and marinated salmon; panizza (fried chick peas); potato, mozzarella, and shrimp deep fried in a bed of red pepper; grilled octopus on a bed of creamed potato and lemon with caviar; squid ink crepe stuffed with a white creme and shrimp béchamel; tuna preserved in oil with caramelized red troppea onions; steamed razor clams with julienned vegetables and vinaigrette; creamed cod on crostini with tomato; marinated tuna in fennel anise with white caramelized onions and pomegranate; salted anchovies; lemon anchovies; and octopus with tomatoes, capers, olives, and potato. It was a remarkable spread, and closer to an entire meal than just an appetizer.
We're no wine connoisseurs, so in a nice restaurant in Italy we're fine getting a bottle of house wine, as the baseline for what's acceptable for Italians is high quality stuff for us. It did not disappoint. We also marveled at the thick and luxurious balsamic vinegar which really "fwomped" out of the bottle onto your plate. The main course was cuttlefish ink pasta with shrimp, mussels, clams, and razor clams. Rich and savory with unbelievably good noodles and the freshest seafood possible, this was one of the best things either of us have ever eaten. Though we were basically full from the appetizer spread, we took down the entire double portion of pasta like it was nothing. We learned as our meal progressed that the giant bottles of booze were offered to all of the tables at the end of the meal, but several other parties in the restaurant were barely imbibing, which we considered total sacrilege. We enthusiastically accepted the boozy offerings when they were brought to our table. There was a sun tea jug of amarro di erbe, which is a bitter, herbal digestif, house made limoncino, a bottle of strong fortified red wine, and a gargantuan bottle of grappa. We sampled them all happily – the grappa was like varnish (as the waitress had warned us) but the herbal liqueur and limoncino were excellent. We drank more than our fill, paid our exceptionally modest bill, and wandered off into the warm evening as content as we could possibly be.
The next morning we had a leisurely coffee by the water and soaked up the views until it was time to take the train back to Pisa. We found a place online not far from Pisa Centrale that was supposed to have excellent pasta, so we decided to cram in one last food adventure before we had to get to the airport. Though we definitely cut it close time-wise and were very un-Italian in our hasty scarfing of pesto pasta and pear and gorgonzola risotto, it was worth the rush for one last round of exceptional Italian food.