Italy 12 - Pompeii

We woke up at 6am, made our first train, and missed our connection by about 30 seconds. Oh well, it was a local line so the replacement train was there in 30 minute anyways. The best part of the new train: It came with an accordionist. Some busker wheeled his speaker onto the train and I honestly contemplated pushing it back out the door as they closed... but I let curiosity get the better of me and he proceeded to bash his way through Italian classics and dance hits... decently well, but still, on an accordion at 7am. I did turn down his speaker when he wandered off to collect change which earned me a few sly nods, and after three songs he disembarked to entertain/harass another car.

Anyways, onto Pompeii!

Jupiter in the foreground, and I edited in the calculated size of the pre-eruption volcano in the background

Pompeii is wild. Same as the forum, it was only preserved because it's been buried for so long, but in this case the burial was so sudden and so complete that the preservation is so much better. I assume everyone knows the basics of Pompeii, but the photo shows a fascinating before/after of Mt Vesuvius. If you want to read more about volcanologists nerding out and arguing, check out the details here. Cool note: They're measuring these eruptions in cubic kilometers of ejecta. That's a massive amount, and explains how it could cover the town to height of 30 feet.

Our first, and essential, stop in Pompeii was breakfast, where we met this cat that really just wants chicken, and who wanders around the cafeteria all day, following the sound of rustling bags.  Then we proceeded to the town square. This was very impressive, but pretty ruined. The only thing that really set it apart was that it had intact toilets (with different sizes of holes, lol), and their temple of Jupiter had a Jupiter! Or a head, at least. Definitely cool to finally see Jupiter after seeing so many temples to so many gods sans gods. But overall, it was still about the caliber of the rest of the ruins we've seen during this trip. Heading to the basilica (local courthouse), things were a bit more together. Here we started to see more details that weren't visible in the other ruins. For example, the columns had a center ring of stone, and then bricks stacked around them so that their points protruded. This surface was then covered with stucco to create fluted columns that looked like they were crafted from marble, while being cheap and quick to build. The basilica had rows of columns that were only about 3 feet high. Not because they fell in the eruption, but because they fell in the earthquakes a year before the eruption. Turns out there were a lot of warning signs, but they didn't really know volcanos so they didn't know what they should worry about... until it got bad. And then most of them did heed the portents and evacuate, so it's only a small portion of the population that got entombed here. Fun facts of death and destruction!

After seeing the town center we went to see the baths (but they were closed), so we went to see some fancy house (but it was closed too), and at this point we sorta gave up on the suggested tour and just started wandering. Once we learned to recognize the hallmarks of various buildings we could identify them on sight: Marble countertops with inset holes for pots (a few of which were lead-lined and still watertight)? - restaurant. Small pool inside the door? Noble home. Domed rocks on the floor? Bakery. Frescos of scantily clad women? Brothel. And there were a lot of all of these. I believe the stats are 40 bakeries and 30 brothels uncovered so far. We also learned to look for the telltale signs of good ruins: Awnings. If something is so good it has to be protected from the rain, it's worth checking out. By this trick we found probably the best ruin there, the House of the Cupids. Frescos still on the wall, both artistic pieces and general pattern-work, much like we'd use wallpaper in a modern home. Tile floors, some mosaic, some patterned, and some just random.  There were gutters to collect the water from the roof and funnel it to the cistern in the center of the garden in the courtyard. The noble's home showed a high degree of craftmanship, disposable income, good layout, and to my surprise, mass production. After seeing several of the homes you start to recognize things.  That birdbath looks a lot like the one over there. This miniature obelisk looks exactly the same as the ones those brothers had. That carved funnel to catch the rainwater from the roof and make sure you don't step into the hole it drains through... that's a complex piece of work and it's identical to the last two I saw in other nobles homes.  This mass-production makes a lot of sense, I'd just never thought of it before, not this early, this specialized, and at this scale.

It was about this time that I realized the hill next to the road we were on, the hill with minor rubble sticking out... that was more of Pompeii, ruins that haven't been excavated yet, things being preserved for future archeologists with advanced techniques. Which meant there were probably bodies (or more accurately, the hollow chambers left by bodies when the ash and ejected cooled around them), just a few feet away from us, and we had no idea. While increasing crowds (and sinking land) mean I would recommend visiting Cinque Terra or Venice sooner, rather than later... For Pompeii, I'd advise later rather than sooner. They're going to keep uncovering, restoring, and increasing access so take your time. But definitely do it. Seeing the actual homes, in color, added a lot to our understanding of actual daily life for the ancient romans -  far more than temples and Cathedrals (which are still admittedly very cool).

At this point we were running out of time. We hadn't realized how large Pompeii was and how much fun it would be just to wander the streets. Oh! Speaking of the streets! They were sunken in, with sidewalks on either side. And for the crosswalks they used two larger stones, spaced so that a horse could walk between them, and wagon wheels could pass outside them. Very cool.  And why did people not want to walk in the streets? Well, basically, because they were sewers. They would wash the rubbish (and, well, sewage) out of the streets by uncorking cisterns at the top of the streets and letting it all flow downhill. This meant the streets had to be lower than their surroundings so none of that would wash into your home (or business, or bath, etc). Anyways, we decided we would hit the theater and the temple of Isis on our way out in our limited time left. The theater was an amphitheater, very well preserved, and decently large (300 seats?).  But when we walked around the corner we realized we had been in the small theater. They had a large field for gladiator fights and various sports, and next to that was the large theater, which must have sat a few thousand. All perfectly preserved, you could still hold a play there if they'd let you. The temple of Isis was fine, but it was all closed off, so we just speed-ran a few more noble houses and a bath or two on the way back to the train. 

The trainride back was unremarkable, except that after a day of using Vesuvius as a landmark for navigating the town I was locked in on it, and I couldn't help but notice how close modern Naples is...  What will future archeologists make of us? "And along this street, we have 10 shrines to the glass tablet. This God was the most important in the 21st century pantheon, and worshippers (nearly 98% of the population) would keep a miniature glass tablet votive with them at all times, and often wrapped it in decorative and protective coverings". 

On the walk back from the train station we noticed that the street near our apartment had been dug up to repair some watermains. And a few feet under the street, filled in with dirt and rubble, there was a brick arch, made of the same thin bricks that were used all over Pompeii. This entire city is just layer upon layer.  Dinner was good, my parents and I ate at the place next door to last night's pizza place, while Ethan and Hannah went out for a date night. After dinner we strolled down to the colosseum, just because we could (besides, we were only at 15k steps. That's low for us!). In doing so we noticed a set of ruins we hadn't seen before - the gladiatorial training school, right across from the Colosseum. We also took in the Arch of Constantine and the colosseum at night, all lit up, and walked through or past at least 30 various selfies or photoshoots.  Early night again tonight, tomorrow is the Vatican. After that... we fly home, and finally, I get to sit in one place for 8 hours. Even if it means catching up on emails and the real world, it'll be a nice break from the daily 8 miles and go-go-go.

Italy 11 - More of Rome!

First, since I skimmed over it yesterday, the apartment we have is amazing. I'm gonna guess 100 years old - it has steam radiators, a dumbwaiter (now turned into a closet), the elevator is an obvious retrofit, and the windows are big enough to stand up in - opening onto a classic 8" ledge that begs to be traversed. (Update: The buildings next door were built in 1912 and 1915). 10 foot ceilings, 3 bed 3 bath, a sitting room that blends into the dining room, and a dedicated (and partially stocked) kitchen.  And key: 4th floor (meaning 5th in American) views of the colosseum straight over a park. Not to mention, it's all decked out with snazzy chandeliers, bookshelves, random silver knickknacks, fancy area rugs over a herringbone parquet... I feel like exiled minor nobility. The only thing missing is shampoo... but hand soap is close enough, right? And now my hair smells lemony fresh.

Ancient Rome must have been amazing. The coliseum is still amazing today, and it's somewhat broken down, no longer clad in marble/plaster, lacking all it's paint, and missing it's statues. The most missing statue was the 100ft tall statue of Nero (later changed to be Sol, then Hercules) - a bronze monstrosity that was right outside the main entrance and gave the Coliseum it's name, which has been lost to history - presumably melted down for cookwares. The enormous football-field sized statue to Venus and Roma Aeterna (the Eternal Rome, personified into a God) is also almost entirely absent. A few pillars and a partial dome are all that remain, the rest has been stolen over the course of centuries. That's basically the default in Rome. Build something amazing, and then the next people that come along adopt it for their own purposes, disassemble it for parts, or just slap their names and Gods on it and call it a day, for better or worse.

For the coliseum itself, it started as a lake. That's how they managed to find empty room in the middle of the city - just filling in a lake. Also explains how they were able to flood it for the naval battles during it's inauguration (100 days of feasting that resulted in the deaths of 2000 men and 9000 animals). From ~100AD to ~500AD it hosted the lurid gladiatorial battles that all we all read about with macabre fascination. After that it was essentially abandoned, and merchants took over various portions to use a warehouses and stables, while scrappers pried out the iron reinforcements to melt down.  After that, a family of nobles fortified the semi-ruined structure, built a keep, and essentially used it as their private castle in the 1500s, leaving the inside to grow wild with vines and various botanicals. Soon after, the church decided to celebrate it, as they viewed themselves as the keepers of Rome, and drew up spectacular plans to turn it into a cathedral, before ultimately settling on installing 14 smaller shrines around the interior devoted to the stations of the cross. Now, these have been removed, archeologists have excavated the basements after 1600 years lying beneath the dirt, and restoration work is ongoing.

On the coliseum floor, I was most struck by how intimate the setting was. The emperor and nobles would be a few yards from the gladiators, slaves, and animals being slaughtered in front of them. And thinking deeper about it, the whole thing is so very roman. An empire based on (and funded by) conquest, the colosseum was a foremost a tremendous political tool. Celebrating and bankrolled by the sack of Jerusalem, the imported slaves spoke to the might of the Roman Empire. When Egypt was conquered, Egyptian set pieces were introduced - reminding everyone how powerful the Roman army was. Besides this, the "bread and circuses" was very much in effect. Free bread and entertainment for anyone who could vote. Today, that same concept still rules our government, only the circuses and battles are in the news and political campaigns, while stimulus checks play the role of bread. And instead of looting foreign countries, we raise taxes or increase the debt.

The Tower of Babel - Pieter Bruegel - 1563

The tunnels underneath were also impressive, featuring ramps, trap doors, elevators, and cages for both animals and humans, who would be snuck onto the arena (latin for sand - 9 inches of which covered the floor) behind various props or set-pieces, so that the crowds could laugh at the hunters misfortune - highly advanced stagecraft and direction for a production with serious consequences. And when in doubt? Use slave labor. Massive capstans ran all the ropes through hundreds of pulleys, which would have required massive coordination to get all the moving pieces in place at the right time. But for up to 50,000 fans (35k typical?), nobles, the vestal virgins, and the Emperor himself... nothing could be too over-the-top.

The upper level of the colosseum now holds a museum, showing bones from all the animals kept (or slaughtered) on site, from giant cats and boars to bears, ostriches, and chickens. Also present are models showing how the canvas awning would work (sailors took care of all the rigging), various configurations of the colosseum over the years, and artwork showing the colosseum as it looked in the past, or as medieval artists imagined it must have looked.  This alternate history of such an iconic landmark was one of my favorite parts, it was utterly fascinating to hear the legends based on the ruins of the colosseum written by those who had nothing else to go on. After taking in another round of views, snapping some pictures where things fortuitously lined up, and listening/reading the audioguide cover to cover we headed back to our apartment, only two blocks away.

We had to pause for a moment for a cinematographic production (with screens, reflectors, tents, trucks, generators, sounds men, cameras, and security blocking the paths during the scenes), but we have no idea what it was. If anyone sees a movie set in a park with the colosseum in the background come out in late 2023 or 2024... LMK. Anyways, lunch, I think another round of naps... some blogging... and some very polite arguing as everyone fails to make plans for the rest of the day.

There were not much naps. Just a bit off food and a bit of rest, and then back into the fray.  It was bad. A complete breakdown of planning, direction finding, etc. We wanted to do palatine hill and the Forum. A palace, the old senate building, it shouldn't take but an hour or something. But it was hot, sunny, and the caffeine wasn't working. We spent far too long debating over which entrance was correct, finally got past the ticket booth, and fell into further debate over what turns to take, what paths went where, and eventually we wandered apart and chose separate routes. I'm fine with this, I've done a hundred palaces and ruins, I know how this flows, so I just started walking a modified left-hand-rule maze strategy and wandering about on my own. The palace was Massive. It was like 5 palaces, all built on the ruins of the palaces and senatorial homes and nobility before them. Highlights IMO were the horsenasium (I think technically they call it the Hippodrome), courtyards, the baths, and the amazing views. I guess when you're Emperor you just put your palace on the top of the hill because you can. Might as well look out over all the baller monuments you and your forbearers built, which probably inspires you bankroll another and leave your mark on the amazing canvas spread out in front of your palace. There was so much stuff. Slabs of marble from all over the ancient world, including Africa (to flex on your neighbor's Italian marble, of course. What sort of peasant uses local marble?), ruins everywhere you looked in various levels of falling-down, churches built on the ruins, it was a little overwhelming. 

And that was only the first half. After an hour of solo-wandering I cut through the gardens to the main overlook, and then it became very overwhelming. The whole of the forum, what we thought was going to be the second half hour, was  spread out beneath me. The ruins of dozens of temples and monuments stretched across the ancient city center. I called my parents to check on where they were so I could try to spot them down there, and they were in the gardens only a few minutes behind me. So I waited for them and my brother/wife showed up too! We took in the views, and then headed down into the mess. By now it had cooled off a bit, there was more shade, and the caffeine had kicked in.

It was wild. Every 20 feet was another temple. Minerva (technically across the street), Jupiter, Artemis, Callisto and cafdasfdsaf, dozens of gods even a bookworm like myself had never even heard. Another temple to Roma Aeterna, and monuments to a dozen victories in wars, dead sons and fathers, and various government buildings behind, on top of, and under them. The entire region was filled up around 500BC, and then rebuilt again 60-120AD as the Jerusalem money poured in. Plus tons of restorations in antiquity as temples burned down or earthquakes hit.  There were a few hangers-on, as later emperors wanted to be included in the field of glory up to ~500 AD, but after that it basically died out. The valley was slowly filled in with dirt, and the same rich family that had turned the colosseum into their personal house in the middle ages remodeled the upper half of the Arch of Titus into a fort, going to far as to cut a door into the massive inscriptions across the top. Sheer balls, kind of sad to see it defiled in such a way, but it also protected the arch since nobody was gonna steal bits off a fort for their garden or cement, as happened to so many other buildings. That's the main secret into how so much survived so long, it all spent ~1300 years buried and protected.  Our last stop was the house and courtyard of the vestal virgins, the 14???? virgins who served the temple of Vesta from the ages of 10-40, from whose area all men were banned, save the high priest, who just happened to be the emperor. Their quarters were adjacent to their temple where they attended the eternal flame.

Then we went to the exit... which was closed and was actually just a cool overview of the valley. Then we went to the exit.... but we'd missed the senate building itself, so we had to backtrack to check that out... but there was a rope across the entrance. Sign said it should be open at this time, we found a staffer. "Is the curia open?" "Oh Yes, yes of course" <looks over> "But may-be not today." By that time we'd entered a new region full of ruins of old administrative buildings, and we continued down this path, under the main modern road in a collection of ancient catacombs, and came out on the other side where we wound around to the tower of Trajan! So we got another look at that, and then headed back to the hotel.

At the hotel I wrote all this up, set up a timelapse, and we watched the sun set from our window. Amazing views. Then we went out to dinner (and I swung by a pharmacy to pick up some naeostro atletico - aka ankle tape - for tomorrow's trip to Pompeii which I'm sure will be even heavier on the joints.  I went to grab a pic of the sunset and saw some guy lining up the same shot on his wife and complimented him on his shot - "nice" - and then I realized he was taking a video. Lol.  For dinner we had pizza, and beer, and wine, and desert. We adventurously chose the potatoes and wurst pizza.... which it turns out means french fries and hotdogs. Very promising, but sausages and pan-fried diced potatoes would be kick it from decent to amazing. We added on some gelato afterwards and quick trip to the supermarket to round off the night, and home by 10.30.

Italy 10 - Rome

 Rome, day 1

[Much like the day we arrived in Venice, I was sleep deprived and determined to get my notes down in what little consciousness I had remaining to me. So again, as written with only minor edits]

We got up before 6am to get to the train, and powerwalked up the town to the trainstation. We coulda risked another half-hour of sleep, but if that train was cancello then we'd be outoflucko. Dragging luggage uphill on 5ish hours of sleep sucks. The train was actually on time, and the rest of the trip I had my eyes shut wishing I was still asleep. We arrived in La Spezia in time to watch the sun rise, and then  transferred to our highspeed train to Rome.

The "First Class" was only moderately first class, but they did give me a coke so I was actually awake, for better or worse, and spent most of it reading and looking out the window. The countryside was cool, most of the larger hills had castles, forts, or old churches on top - the type of thing that would be a national treasure in the US but is blasé here. Plus we saw the leaning tower of Pisa again. My mom had only glimpsed it so we moved around to get her a prime seat and somehow, on this track only a few meters from the old track, we actually got a great view of it. It definitely leans, but I don't think I ever need to get off the train for it.

The train station in Rome was miserable. Loud, crowded, and full of lost tourists standing in the center of all the hallways. We went to the food square that my uncle and aunt raved about, and it was similarly miserable. The food was fine, but it was crowded, full of people standing in the pathways looking lost, and too loud to have a conversation with more than one other person. But we couldn't check into our airbnb until one and nobody wanted to go to a park to wait, so I was trapped there.

The 25 minute hike to the apartment was equally unenjoyable, but in a now familiar way. Destination weddings should always involve taxis. And sleep. Then we struggled with phones and tried to contact our hostess. I just sat on the sidewalk, all f---s evaporated. The apartment was baller, but with no f---s... it didn't matter in the slightest, I just wanted our hostess to end the tour and stop talking.

Finally it was nap time. And nap time was glorious. Two hours later, we regrouped, doing much better, and set off to see the city. I was sick of feeling like a pack animal, so I didn't take anything aside from a phone. No camera, no backpack, nothing. It was nice. [Most of the pictures in this post are from the family album]

We walked down to the colosseum and saw the outside, and then saw looked down on the ruins of all the old forums largely from 100 AD or so.

The sun was brutally hot. I kept to shadows.

Tower of tggrfgsf [Trajan's Column] which is basically the bayou tapestry carved into stone

The big badass national monument, which tricks you into accidentally walking through a museum

It's built, just like all the monuments throughout Rome's history, overtop the previous monuments.
Gives you a good idea of how impressive the rest of this area would have been back in the day.

Parthenon. Super cool. Loved the oculus, even if (because?) rain sprinkled in through it. Disappointingly didn't have the old gods in there anymore, but being Christianized preserved it through history, so fair trade. Everyone told me the same facts, because they all listened to the same audioguide. Thank god we had nap time. Probably need more naps. Probably should never ever get up at 6am. Gorgeous though.

Got out at closing time and watched all the tourists run for the gate

Then we did trevi. It's a nice fountain, celebrates finally having aquaducts again, but basically a tourist trap. They shovel money out every night. Factcheck that. [They only shovel money out twice a week, literally raking in 1.5M/year].  Watched girls take like 500 instagram pics.

Got dinner. Meatballs, homemade pasta, and some baller bacon. It was good, but very similar to what we'd have at home. Like I said, good.

Did the spanish stairs. The hannah montana of stairs, famous for being famous, and named after something kinda nearby but really has nothing to do with it.

Then we walked the half-hour home. I think we hit 4 of the 7 hills of rome, and all on 5 1/2 hours of sleep. I'm gonna go sleep more, hopefully i can flesh out this blog later.  [Clearly, I didn't]

Italy 9 - Cinque Terra - Corniglia, Manarolla, and Rigamarole

 CinqueTerra, day 2

Today's plan was to hit the southernmost 3 towns from north to south, possibly hiking the final leg, and then cruise back to Levanto on a boat. Ambitious, but doable. I slept a good 8 hours, but woke up hourly for no good reason, so... I wasn't at my best. Oh well, I've long ago accepted that much of my life will be dumb things I've trapped myself into doing, so it's best not to think about it once the moment for action arrives. Nothing to it but to do it, as we squids say.

We started around 8, and got to the train station 5 minutes before our train, which was cancelled. The swiss woman next to us said the previous two had also been cancelled, and being swiss, she was QUITE IRATE about it. It's ok though! She spoke to the station manager who assured us that the next train would not be cancelled, as it was coming from the other end of the tracks, instead of the side with the problem. But, you know, it was 15+ minutes late. Not really a problem, and it let my little brother run all the way back to the hotel to pick up something he forgot, making it onto the train with almost a full minute to spare!

Anyways, three trains of people jammed onto the train like sardines, and we rode down to Corniglia! Corniglia is the smallest of the terras, and we figured we'd knock it out pretty quick and move on to the next. The town is on the edge of the cliff, a the sole terra without a harbor, and a few hundred feet above the train station... but with a few hours of travelers all jammed onto one train we couldn't make it to the shuttle bus in time. Ethan and his wife set off to climb the staircase, and my parents, faced with the prospect of waiting in the already-hot sun for the next shuttlebus or climbing a few hundred feet in stairs, chose to walk up the bus-road instead. I followed, since I didn't want to be the lame one to wimp out, and a ramp sounded better than stairs. On the plus side we did get to walk right under one of the monorail-tractors and check out the gears underneath. Side Note: None of my laundry had dried even a little, so my choices today were a black dress shirt or a black polo. And slacks. It was so freaking hot. We stayed in the shade where we could, but the sunny stretches were miserable. That's going to be one of the defining memories of this town for me, which is too bad because it was pretty cute. Hiking a half mile in the humid sun before I'd even had my caffeine for the day. [Editor Brice: The pain has faded over time. I'd do it again without thinking twice].

Anyways - the town is super cute. We stopped in the church, walked (up more stairs, obvs) up the "main street" of the town which would be an alley in any other Terra and a fire escape in most US cities, and out to the various lookout-points which all had great views of the town.  On our way back down, we ran into Ethan and Hannah, checked out the school badminton/volleyball/soccer court, complete with fencing to keep the ball from falling into the ocean 300 feet below, and then grabbed a brunch of pizza, foccacia, and Coke, that sweet sweet nectar of the Gods. Heading back to the train station we elected to take the stairs this time, and they were mild stairs - little ankle-high nothings instead of the knee-nigh bastards we'd come to expect -  but there were switchbacks full of them, fully exposed to the sun. Like I said, I think I ruined this town for myself. Or the sun did. I'll blame Jupiter, that's never worked out poorly for anyone in Italy.

After some minor typical train delays we made it the 5 minutes ride (vs a 2hr hike) to Manarolla. This was a more typical Terra, and the train station was thankfully in the town! Only a few flights of stairs needed! That said... it was a rather steep town. Between the sun, the schedule, and tonight's wine it's sort of blurred in my mind with Riomajjorie, but I'm gonna do my best. Instead of stairs, we had a long tunnel my Mom referred to as the tunnel of love, but I mostly remember it for the graffiti covering the artistic shots of birds. From a seagull saying "sqaaaaACAB" to a pigeon with a mustache, the sharpies had had their way with the promotional posters. Said Tunnel D'el Amore disgorged us right below the town square, but instead of walking down to the harbor like normal people, we instead headed straight up the mainstreet - essentially a continuous bridge covering the stream that used to run down the center of the valley, and up into the hillside. We checked out a church or something, probably, almost definitely, that's always what we do. They're all blurring together.. in retrospect, I was severely dehydrated at this point.  There were some cool views of the town, which had the same fairybook pastel quiltwork look that Vernazza had, complete with some ancient fortifications and such. To switch it up, instead of terracotta rooves they went with slate shingles... but due to the brutal storms which can hit the coast about half the houses had large rocks on top of their shingles - purely to prevent them from blowing away. It was a massively vertical town, each house several stories above the previous.  We went north out of town following (vaguely) Rick Steves' advice, into the vineyards, and hiked a portion of the 5terra trail that links all the towns together, except we turned left instead right once we'd circumnavigated the town, turning back to the cliffs over the sea - which would have taken us down the landslide-closed trail back to Corrmiglioli (I've given up learning their names, and where I get them right in this blog, it's because I've corrected them while editing [Editor: I'm not fixing them]. In my head I call them numbers, when I talk to others I call them by something vaguely resembling their names. I later learned my aunt and uncle had given up as well and had their own names for the towns. Manarola? Motorola. Rigamiorre? Rigatoni). Turning left and back towards the harbor, we finally caught a nice sea-breeze and a great view of the ocean lapping against the cliffs. As a climber, I love cliffs, which is probably why I started paying attention again at this point. Instead of taking the stairs straight down to the harbor, however, we veered off around a cemetery. Apparently they put them on top of hills here. Possibly because of flooding? I dunno but it's definitely the thing to do. This gave us better views of the harbor and a more gradual (less stairs!) path, and wrapped down around the outside of the point to a secondary harbor. At this point, we were finally in shade again. Dad and Ethan decided to go swimming to the dismay of my mother, but I didn't want to risk wet clothes all day and instead just walked down to the water and enjoyed shade and not moving. It was nice. 

Eventually we finished out the route, ending up back in the harbor. I ran down the boat ramp, side-stepping sunbathers, to look up the stream that had become a road, but it was pretty lame and only a small trickle from a disappointingly small tube. I'd hoped for something that could be, at least theoretically, hiked up. Not a few garden-hoses worth of water and a tunnel too shallow to crawl comfortably in... but admittedly, I'm weird. 

We still had our EVERY CINQUE goal, so we checked the schedule. 2pm. There was a train in 20 minutes (allegedly, but you know, be a shame to miss it if the next 3 were cancelled). So what did we do? We went for gelato. 15 minutes to make a 20minute hike and we decided to go for gelato. Maybe this was why I turned my brain off and decided it wasn't my problem. Turns out the train was 7 minutes late so really we were 9 minutes early, and we were down the tracks to the final Cinque, Rigamarole' !

Rigamarole' also had a tunnel from the train station to the town. Which is fair, with these small towns it'd be a shame to ruin the vibe by ripping up the main town square for a train station. This time, we thought ahead, and plotted out the end of the journey instead of mindlessly walking up the steepest road we could find. Which is apparently what we do. I dunno, protestant work ethic, the association of suffering and exercise, and inability to sit still...  for some reason, it's what we do. If there are no roads: bell towers, hiking trails, the Cliffs of Moor, the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde, anything will do. In fact, just click to a random trip in this blog and I bet we're doing some arduous task for tenuous reasons. Also, this white wine is great. Back to topic: We got ferry tickets! We were told by our new step-aunt that the boatride is the only must-do in Cinqueterra, and also a boat ride doesn't involve walking up stairs, so we booked a boat-ride! The ferry to take us back to Levanto (6the Terra, where our apartment is), was stupid cheap, and we let that set our schedule. And while we were buying tickets and watching the cliff jumpers across the harbor, our aunt and uncle wandered up! They had just finished touring the town and stumbled upon us. We explained our plans, invited them to dinner, and they went off to hit their 5th cinque, cormigiglglgio (aka #3, our first of the day), promising to make it back before 5:15. 

At this point, we were prettymuch all burned out on the cinques. Another church, another harbor, another paved-over river to make mainstreet.... we'd seen it before. So we decided to do what we'd done in Venice, and just randomly wander whatever ridiculous stupid alley looked appealing (which was most of them, on account of the shade!). We dialed it back slightly on account of all the fafsdafdsing stairs, so we'd nominate my brother or I to go on ahead as a runner, and then we'd give a shout if it "was a thing" / "goes", or return if it didn't. This was way more fun, and before we knew it, we were half the way up the far-too-steep mainstreet that ran through town. Plus, the alleys were narrow, which meant precious shade. Up at the 2/3rds mark was a church, so we figured we might as well hit that before we turned around. It was another church. Slighltly better than most with better marble work, but just another church. At this point, Ethan and Hannah split off to go get a glass of wine, tired of this same game. My parents and I noticed that we were at the same elevation of the other church, and decided we might as well check it out.   This church was definitely above par. Great marble work, some good statues, and "The only painting done by a Cinqueterran master, who we still don't know who is". The art was meh, but I love the idea of a master who came out of nowhere to paint a work rivalling the contemporary greats for his home church, didn't sign his name, and disappeared forever. 

Even better than the church (which was pretty good, I enjoy a well-done cathedral), was the elevator next to it.  We were apprehensious.... could this really be free? Would this trap us into taking more stairs? It seemed too good to be true. But, you know, f--- it send it see what happens. So we called the elevator. And it opened. And there was no coin slot. And we went 100 feet straight up, with glass walls at the top, to the summit of the town. Apparently the elevator was built by the church to bring locals to mass, it still feels too good to be true, but it was awesome.  Now on top of the town, we walked down a flat road to the castle overlooking the harbor, where my parents and I parted ways. I wanted to slide down the stairs into random alleys and guess my way back to the harbor, they wanted to journey back to the miraculous elevator and wend their way back down the main street (aka ramp). I only made a few wrong turns, ending up in peoples gardens or at their basement doors, but that's the fun of wandering. I made it back to the harbor even quicker than I expected, leaving me about an hour until ferry-time. 

I once again hiked down to the mouth of a harbor, once again checking the mouth of the paved-over river. This one was even lamer, a trickle flowing into a pipe before heading out to sea, not even flowing into the harbor. Probably resulting in a cleaner harbor, the bulk of the river was diverted out various pipes, presumably from various elevations along the road above. But lamer by far than a sub-road river, especially as someone with a softspot for hydrology and subterranean exploration. So I hiked out the breakwater instead, scampering from rock-to-rock picking the route and proper foot placements as I went at almost a jogging pace, matching my moves to my stride for maximum efficiency and speed, and which resulted in great views of the town across the harbor and a decent view of the beach around the corner of the point. It was a blast, so I decided to repeat the trick across said beach, heading a quarter-mile around the coast. I realized as I did so that this was a flow-state for me. I was good at it, it was moderately risky without being distratctingly risky (afterall, I'm great at this shit), and it was difficult enough to require my full attention. Years of stream-hiking and river-hiking had prepared me for this and it was glorious. The view wasn't even good from the beach, but I loved every second of it. 

I was so efficient, in fact, I made it back to town with a half-hour to spare before the prearrainged rally time. So I got a beer, posted up on a wall over the townsquare/harbor, and just people-watched and chilled. The net result was that this ended up being my favorite terra, followed closely by Verranza, Near rally-time I spotted my parents and joined them as they headed over to the ferry dock. They'd met Ethan and Hannah shortly after we split up, and sent them on the trail towards the church of miraculous ascension, and then we met my aunt and uncle, all reunited in time for the ferry. This is where we had a stroke of genius. The stairs to the ferry were divided into an entrance and an exit, divided by a railing. We watched the prior ferry devolve into chaos as people attempted to use both as entrances, entirely screwing the people who were in the correct ferry line. We were in the correct ferry line, and my father suggested setting a pick (in basketball terms) at the top of the exit stairs, to prevent line-jumpers from stealing the good seats from the rest of the family. This evolved as my brother repurposed a cord tied to the stairs into a "exit closed" block. But what one man can tie, another can untie. I escalated the ruse to it's final form, sitting on top of the knot in my black corporate polo, looking like I was supposed to be there, taking one for the team as my family got good seats in the hope that they'd save me one. I even (mostly-correctly) helped some Japanese tourists who had questions about the ferry schedule and ticket office location.   It was a weird blend of my rule-following upbringing/family and my current anarchism, and it worked perfectly.  We all had seats on the back of the boat near the stairs to the primo-seats on top, and they saved me a spot on top of the life preservers. When we left Rogasdfasdf ( aka CinqueCinco) we realized the back of the boat was one of the best spots, as during it's trek away from the city we got perfect views of the harbor, the city, and the landscape. After #4, when a few people left the ferry, we ran upstairs. There were only a few seats and again I was stuck in the last row. The perfect row. I rode the rest of the trip in the last row, on the top, shooting photos with my wide-angle lens and my tighter-zoomed phone, and it was awesome. It was a perfect recap of our time in CinqueTerra, as we moved up the coast and back in time through the last two days, visiting each town in turn and capturing the perfect shots as we left them behind. We pulled our aunt and uncle up with me to the perfect row and as we rounded the horn to Levanto (6the Terra) we could see all 5 behind us, a perfect panorama of memories.

I know that was the perfect stopping place, but oh well, real life's not perfect. We pulled into port at levanto, watched some small children jump off cliffs that are honestly higher than any I've ever done, and headed to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Adam (bro #2) and Dani (wife #1) had gotten in earlier from their quest to hike from #5-#1, and they had reservations for us at a nearby restaurant. And by nearby, I mean literally nextdoor. Seven, maybe 8 feet from our front door to theirs. But they had reservations for 7 people, and weren't prepared for the sudden arrival of two more family members. But instead of a 9, the restaurant could take a 5 and a 4, so we split up along generational lines (and more accurately, I suspect, adventurous taste-bud lines) and had two great dinners. We had lemoned anchovies (which I adore, surprisingly, considering I despise canned anchovies), prawns, mussels, clams, razorclams, gnocci, and all the bread and pasta they would give us. The highlight of the dinner was surprising the "adults" with a few deserts ordered to their table (after all, my aunt and uncle were the ones who ultimately made this whole trip happen!)  - Biscotti and Sweet Dessert wine to dip them in. The waitresses didn't communicate that it was a surprise, and my mom tried to refuse the meal "No no nono no" and then as the waitress came back we all caught her "Si si siiiiii si si!" They devoured the biscotti, and sent back one of the glasses of sugary-sweet wine with random cookies and pretzels (from my mom's fanny pack) to dip them in. 

That's it. Packing, some dry laundry, some not, and blogging as the rest have gone to bed from their busy days and I hijack my insomnia for an authentic relation of my experience, if not the actual events of the day. Tomorrow we leave at 6:30am for Rome. It would have been 7:00, but you can't trust the trains.