Later the same day... 20:38
Location: Taverna del Capitano, Vernazza

A smooth day on the trains. The Cisapino from Geneva to Milan was half full for most of the trip, though it filled up nearer the end. I sat across a table from a young man travelling light from Lausanne, but I was in a quiet mood and we didn't speak.

The train wound around the north shore of Lac Leman, past Lausanne and Montreux. We passed close by the Chateau de Chillon, sitting squat and thick on the lakeshore. Some of my clearest memories from Grade 5 are of walking down from Glion to the chateau, where I thought up complicated Dungeons & Dragons adventures in its picture-perfect walls.

We proceeded, and in due course came out of a long tunnel into Italy. The train stopped to pick up the border guards for passport checks, and then we were off again.

Milan, a massive railway station, was busy and impersonal. The board showed my next train, and InterCity, as running 20 minutes late. After a washroom stop I wanted to call ahead to Cinque Terre, but was defeated by the phone system and gave up easily.

From Milan, I left in the long InterCity train, sitting in the very first compartment with the railway officials and an agent of the railway police (complete with sidearm). I figured that with them for company I had no need to worry about theft on the train, but at the very next stop the policeman and one agent got off, and the remaining agent started her round, leaving me alone in the car.

Outside, the flat land around Milan gradually got mountainous again as we approached the coast. There were frequent gorgeous old churches, castles and mansions on either side, so many that it was clear why some were not still greatly valued: one notable old building, with a wonderful romanesque portico, was missing some of the glass in its windows and seemed to be serving as a power transmission station.

We passed through Genoa, where the hills rose up on the left of the station, liberally covered with 19th C. and older buildings. A statue in an archway overlooked the tracks. I started getting worried that I might not be able to tell when I got to the right station, a real problem because the train was longer than many of the platforms, and the signs were often out of sight up front. So I picked up my gear and moved forward.

Up at the front of the 1st class carriages I ran into the railway agent who'd started in my car. She helpfully pulled out her schedule and confirmed that I'd be able to catch a local train to Vernazza from Sestri Levante. We tried some small talk, but it petered out until we worked out that we both spoke french. Then we were off, talking about Barcelona and Gaudí®  All too quickly we were at Sestri Levante and I said goodbye and hopped off.

While I waited for the next train I got a slice of pizza in the restaurant's cafe, which took the edge off my hunger, though it was neither large nor particularly fresh. Then I roamed aimlessly until the next train came to take me away.

This last trip was the home stretch. Between towns the train started spending more and more time passing through dark little tunnes, as the cliff faces got closer and closer to the sea. When we got to the first of the Cinque Terre villages, Monterosso al Mare, a horde of American tourists boarded the train.

So lesson 1 from today: when Rick Steves recommends a "Back Door" in Europe, it gets a whole lot of visitors.

Just a bit further on, the train stopped in the tunnel. This was actually the train station for Vernazza, whose outdoor platform is only about one car long. I got off, sidestepped a man asking if I was looking for a room, and headed downhill into the village.

Though everyone in Vernazza seemed to be a touris, the town nonetheless retains an enormous amount of charm. There are no fancy modern hotels. There is, in fact, only one street, which runs from the top of the town where the road to the outside world hits a barrier blocking cars from entry, and where vineyards stack high up the mountainside, down to the tiny harbour, whose natural shelter has been further extended with a short breakwater. Alleyways lead off sideways, and often steeply upwards. The old buildings now frequently house services for the visitors, including a self-service laundry (€4.75 each for washing and drying a load, which seems extortionate), an Internet caf鬠a wine merchant, a few bars, and several restaurants, plus innumerable pensiones and private rooms. Vernazza has clearly adjusted smoothly in its own way to the realities of a tourist economy!

Almost everyone speaks English and French (though my brief attempts to communicate in Italian raised a few smiles) and the prices are big city. My hotel room, with a shared clean bathroom next door, is €44 per night, but it´s on top of the seafront village, with a view of the harbour and the noise of the waves below, up some romantic alleys and 3 flights of spiral stairs, and I´m pretty happy with it.

So lesson 2 from the day: just because a lot of people have descended on Rick Steves´ recommendation doesn´t necessarily stop them from being lovely places to visit.

I´m here for three nights. One of the next two days, weather permitting, I´m going to hike from end to end of the Cinque Terre, about five hours. The other day will be for relaxation, and soaking in some of Italy´s charms before the trip to Florence on Friday.
posted by Tom at 9:04 PM | link |