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“Every land has its own special rhythm, and unless the traveler takes the time to learn the rhythm, he or she will remain an outsider there always.” — Juliette de Baircli Levy, English writer

Well-traveled By Jennifer Comeau features@seacoastonline.com When I was younger I thought of vacation destinations as conquests. In conversation, I liked nothing better than the chance to remark on the vastness of Sao Paolo, Brazil’s sprawl, or the sophistication of Dusseldorf, Germany’s boutiques. I equated the systematic marking off places on a world map with being well traveled. Now I’m older and I realize well-traveled means having a deep understanding of a place and its people. This can’t happen by speeding through the country from one must-see tourist site to another. It can happen, I believe, by walking in and through a place with a decidedly unhurried sense of adventure and openness to surprise. It was with this attitude that I planned a vacation to the Cinque Terre (pronounced CHINK-way TARE-ay), five coastal villages perched on breathtaking cliffs overlooking a deep blue Mediterranean in the province of Liguria, Italy. My husband and I chose this region in part because it was less frequented than other areas of Italy. We wanted to unravel the mystery of a place instead of having that “me too” feeling destinations such as Tuscany, Rome, or Venice engendered. With images of gaily-stuccoed Mediterranean villas cascading down to the sea and sunny cafes serving fresh seafood, homemade pesto, and local white wine, I was enchanted. But it was photos of a 2000-year-old trade route winding high above the villages that cinched it. Centuries of farmers imposed their will on this difficult landscape, carving ancient footpaths into steep hillsides. Aside from the sea, the Sentiero Azzuro as it is known, was their only access between villages. Because of their relative isolation, the Cinque Terre appeared luminous and unspoiled. I realized this would be a walking vacation worth every perilous step. I made a short list of requirements: I wanted the real deal: Immersion with the cadence of daily life in a fishing village, walks with only with my husband for a companion, and the freedom to go when and where we chose — if we chose to hike at all. In short, I wanted to weave walking into a Cinque Terre vacation, not take a walking vacation in Cinque Terre. Turns out, this was harder to find than I imagined. Most travel companies offered group tours and long day-hikes to specific destinations and overnight stays at well-appointed resort lodgings. It sounded way too orchestrated. Finally I found what I considered the best of all worlds. A British company offered self-guided walks based out of one village — Monterosso al Mare — with accommodations in a traditional Italian Auberge — a family-run hotel located in the old town center (the Centro) away from the modern resort area of Monterosso. For a reasonable price, we received charming accommodations for five nights, breakfasts and dinners, and a spiral binder full of maps, hiking suggestions, and regional insights. This information was my security blanket, giving me the courage to hike in a foreign country without knowing much of the language. What made staying in one place feasible is the system of local trains that quickly and seamlessly connect the five villages, Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. Each day we set out from Monterosso. We’d climb up to the footpath 2500 feet above the village and begin walking to a nearby town, or we’d take the train to one of the far towns and hike in, toward Monterosso. Aside from the ascent and descent, most of the walking was easy, on flat, albeit narrow paths supported by countless retaining walls, called muretti. Terraced vineyards, olive groves, and ancient woodlands provided a pretty foreground to the stunning views of the aqua sea. Once we had reached the next town, we’d explore the area, shopping, visiting old churches, and celebrating the midday meal in style. Every restaurant we chose was excellent. From a halted conversation with our waiter in Vernazza, we gleaned that recipes have been passed down through generations and still follow all the traditional local methods. After a bottle of crisp white wine, we’d siesta under the shade of a Pinus Pinea, mother of pine nuts, or ride the train back to relax at our hotel. Sometimes before dinner, we’d stroll the short distance to Monterosso’s tourist beach and have an espresso or a mouthwatering gelato (Italian ice cream). But more often, we sat in a local café and absorbed the simply beautiful life of an Italian village: old men playing bocce ball while old women kibitzed nearby; mothers leaning over balconies draped with clotheslines singing out, “Antonio!”, or “Luigi, Vieni con me!”; motorized, 3-wheeled piagios bedecked in bright colors zooming by—the vehicle of choice for workmen in the narrow, steep streets. I certainly found the immersion I was seeking. Naturally, it takes some moxie to be on your own. Surprisingly few people spoke English, including our hostelers. Our 50 Italian words — a prerequisite for any traveler in a foreign country — saved us. We found people old and young to be gracious and helpful, even correcting our poor Italian with a smile. (Note: Strawberry Gelato is pronounced FRA-gola with a hard “G”!) Riding the train back to the airport in Genoa, we sat near two American college students squeezed in between their huge suitcases. The young woman explained how she and her boyfriend were touring Europe in four weeks. “We’ll see Rome, Venice, Paris, the Italian Riviera, Switzerland, and about four other countries before we’re through,” she said excitedly. Her boyfriend and suitcase-schlepper looked tired already. I smiled remembering that feeling of being well worn after a whirlwind holiday. Walking in Cinque Terre this vacation, I felt well-traveled. Seacoast Online posts the top Stories from Seacoast Newspapers everyday. For even more news pick up a copy at your local newsstand, or subscribe today!

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