Day 11 - Stairway to Heaven

We are not old.  We are vital, active people, caught in the first bloom of middle age.  I consider my self to be an athlete.  A fat, old one, but an athlete nonetheless.  So we can't settle for seeing the Cinque Terre by boat.  Today, we go a-hiking.  Our research has told us that the short, easy treks (from Corniglia to Riomaggiore via Manarola) are closed but that's ok.  The real deal is the hike from Monterossa to Vernassa and then on to Corniglia.  So that's what it's going to be.
Up early and down to the train station to buy our Cinque Terre trail pass.  Not only does this pass allow us to hike the trails, it also provides train travel between the stations, and most importantly to us ageing hikers, free use of the toilets at the station.

 While waiting for the train, I watched these blokes for a while.  Suspended from cables, the one on the left was working a jackhammer.  Didn't stop for the half hour we were waiting.

 We arrived at Monterosso and tarted on the trail.  Or what we thought was the trail.  We walked up towards a point on the cliff where we found a sign that said (and I'm paraphrasing) - No stupid!  Go Back!
So we did, and soon we were following the signs through town to Vernazza.
Monterosso is a thriving tourist town, with one main street.  About thirty seconds after leaving the main street, you are climbing stone staircases that would never be allowed in Australia.  In about ten minutes, you are (I was) breathing heavily, and high above the town.

We are high above the town.  I am breathing heavily.

 Annie has asked me to stop for a photo.  I am very grateful.

 Annie is coming up the stairs.  There are many stairs. These ones are quite well made.  We will feel nostalgic about these stairs as the day goes on.

 A bit higher. Monterosso is fading away.

I love to go a wandering, along the mountain track.  And as I go, I love to sing.  My knapsack on my back.
Well, you know the rest.

 In a surreal moment, after an hour of hiking, Santa Claus appears at a bridge, selling freshly squeezed juices.  It's possible I'm hallucinating.
We keep moving.

 I am not very good at selfies.  One day I am going to go and stay with Dom and he can teach me the finer points.  Every one I try and take, I'm concentrating on how it works, and I always look more stupid than normal.
Here's a selfie.

Teasingly, Vernazza began to show itself to us.  Here's another shot from the Mediterranean from High Places collection.

 There are one or two spots alonmg the way that seemed to be designed for a photo.  Here's one. Vernazza is peeking out through the trees.  I sent Annie down to perch on the rail for a great shot.  No dice.  This silly tart spent about 10 minutes taking selfies.  We moved on.

Coming into Vernazza, much of it was through farmland.  This farmland is a little different to what we're used to because it's all vertical.  Here's how the cunning farmers of the liguria manage it.  Terracing!

 Can you hear the accordion?  As we come into the towns, there are little Italian fellows playing the squeezebox in an effort to entice the coins from your pocket.  Squeeze away, chaps.
Vernazza below, getting closer.

 And closer.

 So in between this photo and the previous one, we wandered down the hill and were straight into the main street.  Literally two minutes earlier we were coming down a steep incline, and then suddenly you can't move for tourists.  After a quick drink (of water Domma), we were up a new set of steps and before you know it...






We're looking back at Vernazza (from a high place.  Mediterranean is in the background.

 There are many stairs.  Hewn from the very rock of the mountains.  I am beginning to feel a little like Frodo Baggins.  It's all getting middle earth.

 One of the fierce beasts we battled against on our trek to return to one ring to Mordor.  Oh, no, wait.  Corniglia.

 Did I mention that there were stairs?

 And out of the blue, an olive grove. I liked this bit.  Twenty metres of flat.  The only twenty metres of flat that I can remember.

 Down there is the Mediterranean.  Up here is a high place.

 Corniglia, nestled on a stupidly high hill.  Not too far now.

This photo shows Annie rejoicing on the bridge after vanquishing the troll that lives under it. Apparently there was an issue with too much trip, trip, tripping, and it got rather heated.  Silly troll.
We are now free to enter Corniglia.

Aaaaaah.  The harder fought, the better won.
This one tasted pretty good.

I can' seem to find a way to delete this photo from the blog.  My apologies.

After lunch, we walk down to the station to get the train back home (to Riomaggiore - not Surrey Hills).

There are a few stairs to negotiate...













Incidentally, the orange Jackhammer man was still working at Riomaggiore station when we returned.
We had a lovely dinner at Dau Cila but no photos.  Maybe the best meal of the trip.  Traditional Italian seafood.  Then back up the hill and into bed.

They were big steps!