First glimpse of Cinque Terre: morning coffee in Riomaggiore
The train ride from Zermatt yesterday was one of those journeys where the landscape transforms before your eyes. From snow-capped mountains to Mediterranean coastline in a matter of hours. I arrived in La Spezia late last night and caught the local train to Riomaggiore, the southernmost of the five villages that make up Cinque Terre.
This morning, I woke up at 7:30 to the sound of distant waves. My small guesthouse is perched halfway up the hillside, with a tiny balcony offering a sliver of sea view between colorful buildings. I made myself a quick cup of instant coffee (barely deserving of the name) and set out to explore before the day tourists arrived.
The village was wonderfully quiet at 8:15. I walked down the steep main street, Via Colombo, taking in the pastel-colored buildings stacked seemingly on top of each other. The narrow alleyways branch off in all directions, some turning into staircases that climb the hillside at impossible angles.
At the bottom of the main street, I found a small café just opening its doors. The barista greeted me with "Buongiorno" as I ordered an espresso and a small pastry filled with what he explained was a local lemon cream. Standing at the counter Italian-style, I watched the village slowly come to life through the window.
After breakfast, I wandered down to the tiny harbor where fishing boats painted in bright colors were moored. The morning light cast a golden glow on the buildings rising from the water. I sat on a rock for nearly 30 minutes, just watching the gentle waves and the way the buildings seem to grow organically from the cliffs.
The weather is cooler than I expected for the Mediterranean - about 12°C with a cloudy sky. I noticed a yellow weather warning posted near the harbor, mentioning potential rain and thunderstorms tomorrow. I'll need to adjust my hiking plans accordingly.
It's now just after 9:00, and I'm sitting on a bench overlooking the harbor, planning my day. The famous coastal trail connecting all five villages is partially closed for maintenance, I learned from a notice board, but the section from here to Manarola is open. I think I'll head there next, then perhaps continue to Corniglia if time and weather permit.
What strikes me most about this place is how the villages exist in such harmony with the dramatic landscape. Houses are built directly into the cliff face, painted in those distinctive warm colors - ochre, pink, yellow - that seem to capture the essence of the Mediterranean. The terraced vineyards and olive groves climbing the hills above the village tell a story of generations adapting to this challenging terrain.
I've been traveling for 64 days now, with 436 still ahead. The journey has started to feel more natural, less like a vacation and more like a way of life. After the snow and Alpine scenery of Switzerland, this colorful coastal setting feels like entering a completely different world, though both share the drama of vertical landscapes.
Time to put away my notebook and start the hike to Manarola. I've arrived 10 minutes before most tourists typically show up, according to the guesthouse owner. That should give me a head start on the trail.
P.S. I've already spotted several interesting trees growing at impossible angles from the cliffside - Mediterranean pines that somehow find purchase in the smallest cracks of rock. Nature always finds a way.