Zurich - Trip to Cinque Terre

Corniglia

Although I knew I wanted to visit Cinque Terre before I left Switzerland, I somehow ended up booking it in a bit of a rush. I couldn’t buy the ticket online because it was an international trip. So, I went to the main station with all my times planned out. However, the man serving me didn’t think the route I’d chosen would give me enough time to make the connection (even though it was a recommended route online), so I had to get an earlier ticket. Ugh.

As it turned out, his recommendation was golden. Every single train I entered was jam-packed. I was a bit tired as I sat down in my reserved seat, but I was opposite a very chatty (and pleasant) Swiss couple, so sleep or reading my book wasn’t going to happen. I mentioned to them that first class had already been fully booked when I reserved (as a Brit, I find this astonishing, since I’m sure in the UK first-class would not be fully booked before second class), but the couple’s reaction was to say that they had also wanted to travel first class but had been unable (but I hadn’t wanted first class, I had just thought it was extraordinary!). I pretended that I too was the sort of person who travels first class, but my pretence fell flat since they kindly said that second class had actually been better due to superior company.

After discovering I was English, the Australian guy opposite me also started talking. He didn’t speak any German, but I think he understood more than he was letting on. He communicated by gesticulating, which, weirdly, I needed the Swiss people to translate to me in German. At one point, the Australian asked me about Brexit (it’s what everyone wants to talk about but I’d really rather not; it’s such an emotional topic and I can’t be doing with the stress). The Swiss guy turned to me with surprise, commenting that he didn’t know that I spoke the same language as they do in Australia. His wife (I assume that’s what she was) asked him if he hadn’t grasped that I was English, and he said no, but still seemed extremely surprised that the Australian and I could converse.

After that, we (the Swiss couple and I) had the obligatory conversation about me living in Egypt, and then they started to complain about how stressful it was that in Italy, you never know which platform your train is going to leave from and you have to look on the boards. They couldn’t understand how it couldn’t be as organized as it is in Switzerland. I agreed, but found it amusing, since in the UK, at least when I was living there, you also never knew in advance which platforms trains would come in on (indeed, if they would even arrive at all). In Switzerland, the platforms for arrival are planned for the entire season or maybe even year(s), so you always know which platform to go to even if you book months ahead. To me, it’s this organization that is more astonishing.

Anyway, I arrived safely. My initial aim was to go on a sunset tour by boat, so I tried to rush to wherever the boats might be, but I was unable to see any. Online, it said the tours started at 1730 and it was now about 1720. I asked at the Tourist Information and they told me just to look by the harbor if there was a tour. That wasn’t very helpful, but I decided the lack of boats meant that no trips were available. I later saw that the boats can leave at 5pm later in the season, so maybe that was it.

My hotel was further from the station than I thought, so I felt a bit grumpy when I arrived. Then I found that my room was three floors up and there was no lift, which made me more grumpy. Steps became a general feature of my trip but I’d got used to it by the end. And they had no water or fridge in the room and no air conditioning, just a fan. However, it turned out that the fan was fine, so I became less grumpy the longer I stayed.

I did immediately feel like I was in another country, though. It was hotter than in Zurich and the air somehow felt different. Since I couldn’t do a boat trip, I went for a swim. The sea was beautiful and warm and underfoot it was a bit like fine pebbles and rather dark in colour, which made your feet look dirty!

Finding somewhere to eat turned out to be more difficult than I expected. My first problem was that although there were hundreds of restaurants, almost all of them served only fish or cheese dishes; I don’t eat cheese and I don’t eat a lot of fish. My second problem was that they were all heavily over-booked, so although some would offer a single meat option (always steak) or a pasta non-main dish without cheese, I would feel hesitant to go in and take up their only remaining table for four. In the end, I realized I had to eat even if I was just one person and so at 9pm hunger overtook my sense of morality.

For the next day, I’d planned to follow the itinerary suggested in someone else’s blog. I purchased my Cinque Terre day pass, which included all transport and access to the hiking paths in the region (I hadn’t realized that you had to pay to use the hiking paths) and set upon the hike. In the blog, it says that she did it with her children without any problem. It sounded great!

In reality, it turned out that the blogger and her family were a lot fitter than I am. It was extremely hot (around 28 degrees) and I hadn't fully taken on board that the first bit was all uphill on stony ground with lots of steps. I guess, since Cinque Terre is basically 5 mountain villages, I should have taken it for granted, but it just hadn’t dawned on me that you had to climb up and down mountains to get there. The paths were narrow, so sometimes you had to wait for people coming down (or vice versa). I took plenty of rests as I climbed up for what seemed like forever. I sweat very easily and a couple of people asked me if I was OK when I stopped! The views were beautiful.

Anyway, I was exhausted by the time I got to Vernazza (but did feel a sense of achievement), and the walk had taken me 30 minutes longer than the suggested two hours. The original plan was to do another 90 minute walk to the next village, but now there was no way I was going to do this. I had a milk shake and wandered round the village (beautiful!) and decided to take the train to Riomaggiore, which was the village that was the furthest away and so would allow me more time to sit on the train.

Waiting for the train was an experience. The stations at midday were full of tourists (trains were easier after 5pm) and much of the station was a tunnel. Most people were standing in the open air, but they continually announced that you should wait further down (in addition to announcing delays of 10-20 minutes). About half the breadth of the platform under the tunnel was was taken up by the area past the yellow line, where you weren’t allowed to stand. I went as far down the tunnel as I thought wise, hoping to get an emptier carriage when the train eventually came. A passing train was like the coming of the holocaust. Long before the train arrived, a wind whipped up in the tunnel; suddenly I felt cold instead of hot, my dress flapped around my legs and I didn’t feel particularly stable. There was a handrail, which I grabbed with both hands. And then the train charged through. It was quite scary!

After looking round Riomaggiore (and another milk shake and an iced coffee; I was on a liquid lunch, but a non-alcoholic one!), I took the train to Corniglia, planning on visiting Manarola last for sunset as suggested in the blog. By this time, I’d forgotten that the blog had mentioned impossibly many steps from the station at Corniglia. I remembered once I started climbing, though. However, my initial climb from Monterosso on the way to Vernazza was worse, I think. Or maybe I’d just loosened up by that point. Someone coming down the steps grunted when he suddenly realized how many there were – and I was going UP them! If I’d thought more about it, I would have got the bus (which does exist, as I got it going back down), but, alas, I simply didn't think on this vacation.

This activity earned me a crepe with chocolate gelato on arrival. Corniglia was the village situated most in the countryside. I walked down a bit of the path that I decided against walking from Vernazza and the town looked beautiful in the late afternoon sunlight. As in all the towns, the narrow cobbled roads gave an atmosphere of times gone by (if you ignore the tourists). Finally, I took the train to get to Manarola by sunset.

On getting off at Manarola, I dashed up the hill, not really knowing where the best view would be, but thinking maybe up was a good idea (see how much I’d changed from the beginning of my stay where I was cursing the word “up”!). The church looked beautiful against the backdrop of the golden countryside in the setting sun; on the other side, the town of manarola perched by the sea glowed pink. I took some photos, feeling happy.

I made my way to the harbor and then realized that actually this was the place to take my photographs. Doh! There were lots of people on the path on the other side of the harbor armed with their cameras. I made my way to join them. Sunset lasts quite a long time and the camera doesn’t really pick up on it until it’s quite dark; in fact, those photographs look more like daylight ones than the ones I took from the church, so it must depend on the direction of the light.

My original plan was to visit Porto Venere the next day before I left, but I was too tired. If you go to Cinque Terre, I recommend doing it over two days (then I would have done both walks, one on each day, and a boat trip), a  third day at Porto Venere, and then a fourth day at Pisa. But, of course, it all depends on how much time you have available. I would also have brought a change of dress for my second day as I was drenched in sweat after the first day and possibly getting a bit smelly!

I was too late to book a boat trip for my final morning (which I quite fancied), so went swimming instead on the longer beach closer to the station (so no hardship there!). The sea was wonderful, but I got stung twice by jellyfish before I’d swum 500m, so had to give up. Looking out onto the sea from the beach, it seemed that no-one else was getting stung at all. Children and families were playing happily in the sea, another swimmer was going back and forth, people were standing and chatting or just drifting in the water.

I searched the internet afterwards to determine whether some people attract jellyfish. Apparently, you can buy jellyfish repellent which makes you smell safe to the jellyfish so that they don’t sting. So maybe I sweat more than most people also when I swim and thus seem more like a danger to the jellyfish?

At 3pm I had equally busy trains home as on my journey there, but arrived back safely, albeit tired. It was a busy, but great trip, and I would fully recommend it. The area is stunning.