Prego! We are travelling the most convoluted journey of the trip. For some reason, flights from Northern Corsica to Italy are very rare so, we opted for ferry and trains. What could go wrong?
Well….. the signposting in the ferry terminals meant we put in around 800 metres of unnecessary lugging of luggage, the ferry from Bastia was delayed which meant we missed our connecting bus and direct train journey from Livorno, where we docked. No matter, a taxi. We caught the train to Pisa, however, our connecting train had been cancelled, no matter, get the next one. It is, then, delayed by 5 minutes, then 10… the train is mobbed, mainly with tourists, heading for Cinqueterra. We then change at La Spezia, with a minute to spare, call a taxi en route to collect, and make to to Monterosso, where there’s no sign of our taxi! Finally, we connect with the taxi, wind uphill for ten minutes and make it to our wonderful hotel by 6.00pm, the bewitching hour by which we’d been told we had to arrive! Having got up at 6.45am, it is not surprising we are a little frazzled, however, it takes no time to unwind into “dolce far niente” busy doing nothing, trying three glasses of local vino, eating olives, focaccia with oil, taking in a beautiful vista as sunset approaches.
The restaurant here, given there are only 6 rooms, has a good reputation with the locals, and well earned it is, too. Al fresco dining, stunning view, good food, what a way to end our travels across Europe on a high… having told you about dinner, did I mention breakfast? A rustic table full of local treats, that you were not allowed to touch, merely indicate your preference. Our waitress, Morena, had travelled the world, except Cape Town, but her partner had been. I asked her about her favourite destination, Sydney. Why are you not living there? “Life”!
A morning run up and down the hills, sleepy villages, great views… sorted.
Cinqueterra is not a place, it is an area of five seaside villages that are covered by 12 kms. You can take the coastal path and hike it, something we had thought to do but, 30 degrees and humid, I think not! We buy a carnet for the train, it’s good to know that in Italy I am not a pensioner, that ignominy kicks in at 70! I’ve got three more years to be tagged so, for now, just a cantankerous old git! We take the first train to the furthest village, Rio Maggiore, and work our way back, one at a time. The majority of the train journey is within tunnels, as are the platforms. It reminds me of the train journey from Cannes to Ventamillia, which follows the coastline and, if you get off in Monaco, for instance, the whole station is a sub-terranean world!
The first two stops are the best, Rio Maggiore and Manorola, Corniglia involves 400 steps to get up to it, while Vernazzi and Monterosso are more “touristy”, especially the latter which is wall to wall deck chairs and umbrellas, on a stone beach! Each started life as a medieval fortified settlement, protected by a castle. They look a little like Bo Kaap, multi coloured Dulux pastel shades. You could take a boat ferry which, given the humidity, might not have been a bad idea. We thought to have a late lunch, however, Italy doesn’t do that. There’s a siesta gap and dinner doesn’t start until 7 which rendered our recommended restaurant guide of no purpose. However a plate of local pasta, Trofie with pesto did the trick and we got back to the hotel for drinks, sunset, read and, as it was our last night, discuss our many memories of the previous three weeks. You can stay in one of the villages, probably in an apartment however, this tranquility looking over the valley, to the sea, is priceless, away from the crowds and small enough to get to know more of the surroundings, and people.
This is our last day and we are keen not to loose this sense of well being meets well done! So, we’ve decided to spend the afternoon in Pisa, from where we fly to Gatwick. In this way, we avoid train delays, every single one yesterday, had been, the crowds, and to be able to put our bags on racks rather than block aisles, or doors.
Angelka thinks she’s been to Pisa with me, I know she hasn’t because my last visit coincided with Aston Villa beating Manchester United on the first day of the season in 1995, somewhat predating her! That confusion aside, we meander streets, eat the only pizza of the trip we’d promised one another at the beginning, take in places like Emperio Armani, which are concessions outside Italy and, finally, make it to the leaning tower. To be honest, the three buildings, Basilica and cathedral are very impressive with TLT coming in at #3! The site is inundated with Americans, a recurring theme of this trip and a sign that Covid is a thing of the past and US carriers are spreading their wings.
It’s now time to head to the airport, which used to be a military base when I was last here so you used to have to train it to Florence, not a shabby alternative! Pisa airport is the type that’s come into being because of low cost travel and you know you are taking risks on the last flight of the day as all previous delays cumulate during the day! So it proves. The other thing you know is that information is never given so best to check the departures from Gatwick to get an idea when your ‘plane is likely to be here!
Short story, we got in to bed at our Gatwick hotel, a £17 taxi ride of four minutes, at 2.00am, a bit of a downer on the previous three weeks but, we’d both got books to read and there’s always a tube of Pringles as a midnight feast, to brighten things up!
That’s all folks; 22 days, 7 flights, 6 countries, 17 beds, 4 car hires, 1 ferry, 13 trains, ….. 1 continent! Europe is by no means homogeneous, it is so diverse and it is the vivre le difference that makes it one’s favourite. France was our least favourite country yet, our favourite stop, Puligny Montrachet. Portugal was our favourite country and both Italy and Austria involved new destinations to us that made the trip truly memorable. Travel will always be our thing, Angelka will pour over an itinerary for weeks, tweeting this and that. The times have changed, an average hotel now costs £220, websites aggregate costs, like car hire, so that you have no fidelity, we had four separate companies supply cars. Despite a single currency, the variation in value and cost of living is quite diverse with France being the most expensive and Italy being the cheapest. A sense of national pride is evident in Portugal and Austria while France is more self possessed, as the public looks to confirm their status and rights at all costs, even though, for instance, a pensionable age in your early 60s is just not sustainable. It feels like hostility has become a way of life yet, there’s also an apathy towards making things better for all.
For us, doing a trip like this, not using a travel agent, makes it incredibly cost effective, exciting and rewarding. This is not for everyone, people like the insurance of a travel agent for when things go wrong, however, that comes at a cost. We are unlikely to “do” a trip of this complexity again, be it, seen everywhere meets old fartdom but, what a fabulous travel memory to chronicle!