I'm not your stepping stone (Cinque Terre)

Another transit day. Florence to Riomaggiore by train. Firenze Santa Maria Novella Stazione was very crowded. There were people sitting on their bags leaning against any available wall space. Tour groups, solo travellers, family groups, the tribe had spoken and it was time to leave Florence. We tried to occupy as little space as possible while waiting for our train to be assigned a platform. I know, you'd think they'd have an idea before the train arrives. In fact, if you check their timetable our train is slated for platform 1A. Did we make a daring run for it dear reader? Nope. With all the backbone and tenacity of a Jane Austen character we sat and waited for something to happen. And unlike an Austen novel, something DID happen, we were assigned a platform (Hi Min).

Not quite platform 1A - it was next door at platform 1. We gathered our wheely bits and zig-zagged our way through the clumps of humanity waiting to be assigned their departure platform. The train wasn't quite the same as the ones we'd travelled on to date; it was more of a suburban Sydney train, two levels and no bag storage. For once I understood the perspective of visitors to Sydney who pay exorbitant prices to catch the train to the airport, with no baggage storage areas. In fact, they are just regular urban trains and the SYSTEM just charges you extra for alighting at the airport. Well, where are the luggage racks? You charge more ... where is the service? Service? We are talking about Australia. I apologise on behalf of my money-grabbing government and the Sydney Airport Corporation (or whatever they are called).

Where was I? Anyway we crammed ourselves and our bags into a double facing seat arrangement, which meant we were not allowing two people to sit down. There was little choice because there was nowhere to store our luggage and we were not alone. This was a train that had two major stops: Pisa, apparently there is a lop-sided tower thingy there and then La Spezia, the drop off point for Cinque Terre. And it's peak season and hot and summer and people are heading for the coast. The point? The train was packed until Pisa.

The view from our balcony.

And there after it was only slightly less crowded all the way to La Spezia Centrale where we changed trains for the magic of Cinque Terre. In what we have come to expect, the train was late, but not hugely and the trip to Riomaggiore was, in large part, through tunnels. And then you are ejected (I was going to say ejaculated but thought better of it) from darkness and gifted the most beautiful sight of the sea and the cliffs. Only for a moment. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone and we were back in darkness. And then we were at the station.

The harbour form our balcony.

Riomaggiore is the most eastern village of the five lands and apparently the largest. I'm not sure how anyone decided to settle here, unless they were part mountain goat. It is genuinely carved out of the side of the mountain. Having no idea where to go, we were fortunately met by Luca and Valentina who inquired if I was "Breda" and then we were guided from the station to our the "house by the sea". We are on the top floor (6th) of a building that is clinging to the mountain with views over the harbour from our massive balcony. Being seaside means a sea breeze. Oh yes, blessed relief after the heat of Firenze. As I sit here in the twilight typing this, I am being serenaded by the waves in the harbour as the tide comes in.

We went for an orientation walk after we'd been shown through the apartment. OK, we went in search of the wine shop and food. But first, a swim at the 'stone' beach. Now there is a culture shock dear reader. No sand, just what we would call in Australia, river pebbles. Except they are rocks or stepping stones (thank you to The Monkees, 1966,  for today's title). Covered with algae. Slippery and slimy. It was difficult enough to negotiate a path to the water's edge and maintain your balance, dignity and poise. Then there was the water. I made several valiant attempts to get into the water beyond the depth of my ankles, without falling over. After this proved near impossible I accepted the assistance of a wave that pushed me sideways and lunged forward into slightly deeper water. No doubt this provided vast amusement onshore for Jayne. I was as graceful as a mutton bird on land, or a foal taking its legs for the first time. No, it wasn't pretty. The water, though, was beautiful. I'm just not sure it was worth the effort, although I did manage to escape without breaking anything.

After a small recuperation period on the stones of the beach (how I missed the sand of Australia), I suggested to Jayne that if she was going swimming, it was probably wouldn't be there. She had already worked that out from observing my incapacity to remain vertical. We packed up and walked the path back to the main street and located the wine shop and the take-away that does the freshest seafood. The wine shop was a stunning success, the take-away was OK. Been there, done that, won't be back - yes, of course I'm talking about the take-away place.

The stone beach

Sunset. Whatever.

After having spent a large amount of time inanimate on the train, we needed to walk to get some steps up. Sunset at the fort, at the very top of the hill/mountain/cliff, whatever. Up we went and found a set of stairs that led to the interior of the fort - obviously it was a function centre and it wasn't being used tonight. We sat on the steps and waited for the sun to do it's stuff. Now we've seen some awesome sunsets in our time - Lord Howe Island, Santorini, Western Australia, Heron Island, Fitzroy Island, Great Keppel Island, Koroni (Greece) and now Riomaggiore (Cinque Terre, Italy) and do you know what dear reader?

Redfern, plain simple old Redfern provides some of the best sunsets you'll ever see in May and June and other times of the year as well. You are most welcome to join us on the balcony, just call ahead so we can plan a menu.

And that's probably enough for the day.

fino a domini