Chink-way Tare-Ray

Having read the name of the five fishing villages on the Italian Riviera before hearing it pronounced, I can't say the name properly.  I'm sparing you that fate by giving you the pronunciation first.  I'm not even sure that's correct.  It is spelled Cinque Terre and destined to be mispronounced Sink Tare for the rest of my life.

The elderly local women sometimes sat in small groups along this alley clucking and murmuring.  Probably about the tourists that have taken over the village that their ancestors built generations ago.

We stayed in Manarola which, like the other four Cinque Terre villages, was a fishing village for hundreds of years.  The church dates from 1338.  The villages are linked by train and trail - no cars allowed.  Since tourists began to flock there in the 1980's, tourism has become its main industry, replacing fishing, wine making and farming.  Many of the locals whose families had lived there for generations moved out to neighboring towns and cities, so they could rent their homes to tourists during the summer months.

the view from our room - evening - made me imagine the thrill of watching a big storm roll in

the view from our bathroom

Look closely and you can see David, wearing blue shorts and no shirt, running on the trail that zig zags up the mountain.  He's right below the palm tree near the center of the picture.  

after swimming

During the off-season, Manarola must be a very special place.  In July, it felt a bit like Disney World (not that I've ever been to Disney World), but when uncrowded, it would be the kind of place I could stay a long time.

Via Dell'Amour