After Paris, it was time to make our way to Italy. This has been both Eric's and my dream for a long time and we were so excited. First on the list was Venice, a destination we squeezed in only because I really wanted to see it, if only for a day. Now, for anyone who has never been to Venice, you really only need a full day to see and enjoy it. For us, it was HOT and HUMID. It reminded me of Mexico in the summer. Thankfully, Italy has something to offer its hot and weary tourists ... gelato. Mmmmmmm. It saved me many a hot day in Italy. We walked around, window shopped, rode in the water taxi through the canals (no, not a gondola ... it may seem romantic, but it's actually pretty cheesy in my opinion as there's an Italian guy dressed in red stripes around every bend offering you a ride). I will say Venice is a photographer's dream, even if it has been over-photographed. One just can't get enough of a narrow water canal with clothes hanging out to dry between the windows above.
Okay, the best part of all ... after Venice, we trained a LONG way to the Italian Riviera where we stayed in Riomaggiore, the first of the five coastal fishing villages in The Cinque Terre. This destination came recommended to us from some close friends with plenty of travel experience and we are so glad we took heed. This place was spectacular and we really were able to relax instead of focus on sightseeing. Now, unfortunately, upon arrival ... as we gazed out at the magnificent view of the ocean right below the cliff we were standing on ... a bird pooped on me. Yep. This is not the first, nor second, nor even third time I have been pooped on by a bird. (In fact, I was once pooped on by a bird while I sat on a moving boat). I looked up and realized I was standing under the ONE lightpole on the entire platform and on the ground around my feet was a colorful history of prior bird droppings. Yuck.
The next 20 minutes remind me of a scene from a movie. Not a specific scene, but one you would expect to see in a movie. As Eric and I stood near the platform staring out at colorful houses built into a cliff, we realized we had NO clue where to find our little inn. A sweet Italian lady came up to us, looked at the address on our paper and pointed us in the right direction with a friendly smile. Welcome to Riomaggiore, the most wonderful hidden gem. We followed her direction and came to a rather steep hill (the only real road in the village). Now, we're young and spry and can certainly handle a hill or two, but you see, both our pieces of luggage had broken by this point in the trip and my dear husband was dragging my giant suitcase while I had his. So this hill looked like death. We strained our way up it, though, until we came to the inn. Thank goodness; not too far up the hill of death. Eric went in and I stayed out with the luggage and petted a cat sleeping in a flower box. Again, welcome to Riomaggiore, the most wonderful hidden gem. In a few minutes, Eric returned followed by a little Italian woman. Horray for being led to our room. Or not. She began walking up the hill. Eric and I exchanged glances and had no choice but to follow. With broken luggage and sweat dripping, we forged ahead behind the woman (who seemed to be having no trouble at all). Up we climbed ... and up ... and up some more ... until I thought perhaps she was playing a cruel joke on us. Silly Americans. Finally, we arrived. She opened the door and we followed her in. To where you may ask? A staircase of course! A tiny, cramped, creaking, spiral staircase that went up three floors. As I hoisted Eric's suitcase on my hip to fit in the staircase, I lost it. In a fit of giggles, I made it up to our room where the nice Italian woman smiled and left us to burst into laughter. It seriously felt like the Olympics. But our room was awesome and up one last spiral staircase was our private rooftop terrace with a tiny ocean view. Totally worth it.
The next two days were spent dipping our feet into the water down at the marina, sitting on the rocks at Riomaggiore's beach as the waves swept up onto us, eating gelato while sitting on a cliff overlooking the ocean, ferrying to the other villages, exploring a couple of the villages (including a hidden cobblestone path in Monterosso which led us up to the most breathtaking view) and lounging on the beach. We ate a lot of good food, got some sun, did a wee bit of shopping and had the time of our lives. We could have stayed for a month. (In fact, we did consider following Cory and Tapanga's idea and find jobs so we could live there. Eric could lead scuba-diving classes and I would make jewelry. We had it all figured out.)
We will definitely be returned someday. Though I'm afraid by the time "someday" rolls around, the villages will be over-run with tourists, but hopefully not. Goodbye Riomaggiore, the most wonderful hidden gem.
~ Heidi
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