Cinque Terre is the land of humongous lemons. There were lemon trees in yards all over Monterosso, and giant lemons for sale in many stores. E and I shared the world's best lemon granita from a shop near the church in the old town (secret ingredient: copious amounts of lemon zest).
|A private beach in Monterosso's Old Town|
|Phone cables hanging outside our apartment|
|The amazingly clear Mediterranean|
|Looking back at Monterosso|
|Europe grows big snails|
On the rugged trail between Monterosso and Vernazza, we encountered some homeless and clearly unloved cats.
|"Please, use the food inside this container to feed these homeless and unloved cats. Thanks!"|
|A homeless, clearly unloved cat on the trail|
|Another homeless, clearly unloved cat|
|Coming into Vernazza|
|There were homeless, clearly unloved cats in Vernazza too|
|Coming into Corniglia|
|A street in Corniglia|
|Steps from Corniglia down to the train station. It's a long way down.|
Floods and rock slides made Manarola inaccessible by the lower trail, so we viewed it from afar from the Corniglia train station and headed back to Monterosso.
|Manrola, from the Corniglia train station|
|This public beach in Monterosso had mostly cleared out by late afternoon. E is building a sandcastle.|
The second day, we took a ferry from Monterosso to Manarola, then hiked an upper trail back to Corniglia. We got a late start, so it was a mighty hot hike, but the views were spectacular.
|Corniglia, from the ferry|
|Heading up and out of Manarola|
|Vineyards helped protect Manarola from the floods that devastated Vernazza and Monterosso in 2011|
|Looking toward Corniglia|
|Water awaited us in Volastra|
|Mid-trail, looking down|
|Mid-trail, looking up|
|Up and up and up|
|The trails skirted the edges of vineyards|
|Shady woods were welcome|
|Heading down into Corniglia|