It was a usual Friday night in Turin, with the options of going to a few bars, clubbing or drinking vino by the river Po. Almost all weekends in Italy revolved around 2 euro bottles of wine. Our choices led us to Mexican and ‘Irish’ bars full of infused conversations, card games and French practise (ironic I know). Before we knew it 3am had passed and we were sat in a kebab place waiting on our falafel pittas.
And through a little encouragement, this was the point where we decided to join the boys on their hike through the Cinque Terre.
4 hours later we were on the train to Genoa, backpacks on and raincoats at the ready. We hadn’t realised at the time but weather news were reporting high risk storms in Genoa.
When we arrived, needless to say it was raining, I can vividly remember the way the palm trees swung and our impractical inside out broken umbrellas pulling us in forceful motions. After 20 minutes of zipping round the city, running to each arcade of shelter, we decided that was enough tourism and took cover in a small cove bar. The relief of sitting down in the warmth of our teas and hot chocolates with a selections of nuts, breads, cheeses and carrots radiated through our damp clothes. I introduced the group to a fun card game, working in pairs using secret codes that left us in hysterics. The 70s music played in the background and the bar ladies singing along.
To our luck, the next day in La Spezia was dry, after planning our hike we left the hostel en route to the train station. On the way we past markets of fruit and veg. I picked up a couple of bananas and a big bottle of water for L and we were on our way. The 15 minute train journey painted a picture of blue waters, cliff edges and soon to be the first village of colourful outpour.
Since it was November, the hiking paths were practically empty, even the villages we walked through felt deserted. But as the day opened up, so did they sky and the wind settled. We took the ‘closed off’ route which we initially were sceptical of, but we followed behind walking up shallow streams until soon formed a path hugging the cliff side where bamboo shoots, cacti and permission trees grew. At the third village of the Cinque Terre we stopped for lunch (in Vernazza). It was a beautiful scene walking down these wide open steps through the centre of the colourful block buildings to where the shore line met the rowboats. The streets were narrow and tall, where fairy lights and laundry hung low above our heads, tied to olive green window shutters where cats paws dangled as they slept from above, watching new encounters every hour. It was a maze of narrow alley way streets that occasionally dropped down into backstreet passageways and other times elevated steps that would lead to new openings or more often leading to old ladies’ apartment doors. As we ate our mixed seafood by the water the boys managed to throw the frisbee into the sea. Without hesitation R stripped and went after it. For a hiker it wasn’t just a worn old frisbee, I witnessed him use it as a dinner plate, a chopping board and a serving platter.
By this point in the day we had really bonded as a group of four and felt like close friends exploring a beautiful part of Italy. The sun was beginning to set and the colours enhanced this warmth feeling as we walked along the cliff side. From here to Monterosso the sun formed oranges and yellows behind indigo blue clouds, reflecting onto the sea. The four of us stopping every minute to see the transition of colours. Once the sun had set, we were walking in the dusky light, across dainty bridges and wooden stairs, into flowing streams out of walls, surrounded by cacti families. We climbed and snacked on tangerine trees that were sweet and slightly more bitter.
It was dark by the time we’d made it round to the next village (Monterosso al Mare). Where we stood from above we could see the ambience of restaurants glistening over the waves and above seeing the iconic colourful brick buildings layered on top of one another, forming this rustic tone from the street lamps below. The sound of waves rolling in and the hum of chat was soothing as we made our way down.
After a long day we slept on the train back to Turin, something quite comforting about everyone feeling the same, another way of connecting with a human without words, another way of relating and knowing that they understand.
