That pretty much sums up my mom’s feelings on hiking. Meaning, it ain’t happening. Ever. But it’s okay. I hiked Cinque Terre in the ‘90s and the thought of taking a break from strenuous activity and seeing these colorful villages by sea appealed to even me. (Especially since I fell through a hidden hole and dropped six feet during my original hike.) Sometimes you just need to sit back and enjoy the ride… know what I mean?
The day was almost a disaster. We woke to discover our excursion with an outside company to these lovely lands had been canceled at the last minute. We rushed to the shore excursion desk, barely out of the shower, and luckily our cruise line had a similar tour leaving, like, IMMEDIATELY. It was time to “throw my ta-ta’s in a bra” and jump on the bus before it left without us!
On the ride to this magnificent place we passed Carrara, known for it’s “marble mountains” and yes, it’s REAL marble used to build, among other things, the Pantheon in Rome. We first stopped in Porto Venere, which is not part of Cinque Terre, but it has the best pesto sauce I’ve ever tasted. Apparently this region of Italy is where pesto comes from. I just wanted to take a bath in it. Yum. It was a charming pit stop and before we left, my mom and I met an Italian couple who are getting married in Central Park of all places in October. They asked if I knew any restaurants to have dinner at after their ceremony. Is anyone the least bit curious if I recommended anywhere in particular? Hmmm. One thing is certain, I gave their adorable border collie a huge hug before heading off to our boat, bound for Cinque Terre.
Cinque Terre literally translates to “five lands”. It is part of the Italian Riviera and is absolutely glorious. I haven’t seen the French Riviera yet, but if it’s anything like this, then all I can say is “Ooo la la"! (Or should it be "Ay, dios mio"?) Hiking the five villages is one of my fondest memories of all my travels in Europe, so I was very excited for my mom to experience it too. Well, Cinque Terre was as beautiful as I remembered. Sadly, it’s gotten more touristy over the years. When I hiked through the villages, it was like this undiscovered gem for Americans like myself. In fact, Cinque Terre barely took up a paragraph in my Lonely Planet travel guide at the time, and it was pure luck that I found it. Now, information about the place is everywhere and thus, the crowds and tourist shops have moved in. Tourism can be such a blessing and a curse.
We met some lovely people throughout the day, though I could’ve done without the bald guy that seemed to be my very own “Where’s Waldo?” in all my photos. C'est la vie. My favorite people of the day were a couple from Texas. I do love my Texans! They are cattle ranchers and the husband is also a physicist. Mutually exclusive? Guess not. I also learned as a cattle rancher, you should never name your cows, and I’ll just leave it at that. (I'm sure you can imagine the reason behind that.)
On the way back to port, it was funny listening to some people on the bus talking about food, in accents reminiscent of Daphne Moon from "Frasier". Insert Manchester accent: “Is it chili hot or is it garlic hot, because I don’t like garlic hot.” Maybe it’s because I work in a restaurant, but hearing that made me giggle.
Dinner time is rapidly approaching so it’s time to get ready. And when it comes to MY food, I prefer garlic hot to chili hot, FYI. Bon appetite to you all!
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