Village Hopping in Cinque Terre

It is our second full day in Cinque Terre. We pray to whichever God controls the Cinque Terre train drivers that there will be no more strikes today. Thankfully, our prayers are answered. The world is our oyster. Or the Le Spezia to Genoa line is our oyster. Today we can properly enjoy village hopping in Cinque Terre.

We revisited Cinque Terre in 2024 as part of our 2 week cruise on P&O Arvia. You can read more about that trip here!

We do a quick calculation as to whether the day train pass is more cost-effective or just getting lots of single tickets.  We opt for the singles but it turns out that the day pass probably would have worked out cheaper. Our first stop today is Corniglia. 

Village Hopping No 1: Corniglia

Corniglia is the only one of the five Cinque Terre towns not to have a beachfront location. Which means quite a climb up from the train station. 365 steps to be precise. There is however a shuttle bus which will take you to the top in comfort for a few euros. Which naturally we didn’t choose to take. It does mean that there are spectacular views looking back over the bay, with Monterosso-al-Mare in the distance. Corniglia is much more of a traditional village than any of the others, although there is no shortage of eating and drinking establishments.

We stop for a coffee before descending the 365 steps.  Many people are making the climb up now, despite the rising temperatures. I’m glad we arrived early.

Village Hopping No 2: Manarola

Our next stop is Manarola. It doesn’t take long for us to declare this our favourite of the towns.  And we haven’t seen Riomaggiore yet.  For a start, there are no steps into town.  You walk down a tunnel and you’re in the middle of the high street.  Of course, we’re in Cinque Terre so it’s not long before we stumble on a stairway or slope. We walk along the well-paved trail built into the cliff-face so that we can look back on the almost vertical cluster of pastel coloured building nestling together in a higgledy-piggledy manner.

There’s no beach here, but no matter, the order of the day seems to be 1) find a rock, 2) lie down on it.  People are swimming off the rocks in the brilliant blue sea and if we were only here another day or so I would be casting off my clothes and joining them.  But for now we’re content on people-watching. 

As inviting as the many ristorante look, this is a vista that calls for al fresco dining.  So we head off to Pizzeria La Cambusa, and come back with focaccia and two of the largest bottles of birra morretti I’ve ever seen.  We sit on the rocks, tearing and sharing this amazing Italian bread, toasting ourselves with beer, soaking up the early afternoon sunshine. This is definitely my new happy place. And Mr Fletche is already forming some sort of plan involving ferries and sunsets…

Village Hopping No 3: Riomaggiore

We catch the train to our final destination (for now), Riomaggiore.  Naturally we take the long way out of the station, and approach the town from above. There’s a handy pedestrian tunnel right into town if we had bothered to look.

We make our way through the faded and peeling pastel buildings towards the harbour, and once more there’s one of those postcard views that made me pop Cinque Terre on the travel wishlist in the first place.  Mr Fletche reveals his ferry plan.  We buy a return ticket, take the sea route back to our home base of Monterosso-al-Mare and then catch the final ferry back to Riomaggiore for dinner and sunset. I see no flaw in this plan. Some of those postcard pictures of Cinque Terre could only have been taken from the water.  It’s a lovely ride, and we sit at the back of the boat, catching the sea breeze and getting fabulous views as the ferry pulls out of each port after spitting out or taking on passengers.

Village Hopping: Cinque Terre at Sunset

Mindful that there’s not much time until the last ferry at 17:50, we manage to fit in a quick Aperol Spritz at the hotel. We quickly change and return back to the port in good time.  The ferry arrives and we wonder how that amount of people can fit on one boat as they disembark.  Finally it’s our turn to get on, and we get prime seats on the top deck at the rear of the ferry. 

It’s a shame the final ferry is so early, when the sun is still in the sky as we miss out on seeing the lights begin to twinkle on at dusk.  We pull into Riomaggiore and climb the steps up into town.  We pay a quick visit to the train station (through the tunnel this time, no unnecessary detour) to pick up another couple of train tickets for our return journey. 

There’s a moment of panic – and memories of Maine – when the credit card doesn’t work at the station.  Luckily we have enough cash to cover train tickets, and our food if we need to, and I make a note to call my bank as soon as possible to confirm my whereabouts. We head back to the town and we decide to eat at Veciu Muin (Old Mill).  We tentatively proffer the credit card at the end of our meal. It works fine, so was obviously just a glitch with the station ticket machine.  The call to the bank can wait.

As beautiful as Riomaggiore is, Mr Fletche has scoped the lay of the land and declares that Manarola is the place to be for sunset.  So we hop a train back to Manarola. The sunset is beautiful. In fact, it goes straight up there with the Cambria and Burlington sunsets. And as the sun sets, both on Cinque Terre, and on our Italian adventure, we know that that we shall return.

Final musings on Cinque Terre and on our Italian vacation

There’s time for a quick drink once we get our train back to Monterosso, but all the bars appear to have closed early tonight. Maybe there are mourning our pending departure.  We return to the hotel and raid the mini bar.  There are no freebies in the fridge (oh, distant memories of Milan, has it really only been 10 days?) but the beer and mini bottle of Prosecco are comparable price-wise to what we’ve been drinking elsewhere.  And at least here we can sit on our balcony, in our pyjamas, toasting what has been a wonderful holiday. 

Venice and Cinque Terre have been the highlights; Milan was the biggest surprise. Florence provided us with the best food.  And the wine and gelato have been fabulous everywhere.

Tomorrow, we will pack our bags for the final time.  No rolling or folding; everything will get dumped in the wash as soon as we get home.  I can finally peel the plasters off my feet, but will be plagued by their outline for weeks.  We will try and recreate balmy Italian evenings by buying Aperol Spritz at the airport, but it will never quite match up to that first one in Verona.  Or that wonderful one in Vernazza after our mighty accidental hike.  We will drizzle our bread with balsamic vinegar, and pretend we are in an elegant ristorante. I will return to my aversion to melted cheese, whilst secretly craving a pizza.  I will return to my aversion to coffee, whilst secretly craving a latte macchiato.  And we will start to plan the next earliest opportunity to return to this country that we love – noi amiamo I’Italia!