We started the day with a pastry and delicious coffee at a bar in Riomaggiore. Here is Gibson with his blood orange juice.
We did a little shopping, (Hi mom! I found you something great!) and then we set off. We walked the gorgeous and easy Via di Amore between Riomagiorre and Manarola and then we continued onto what I will remember as the Via di Hate. Let’s just say the trip between Manarola and Corniglia was a steep and exhausting one. We walked for a good two hours and a lot of that was in the blazing sun. It’s probably 88 or 90 degrees and there was very little shade for a big part of it. There was a long hike on a rocky footpath and then about thirty thousand stairs again.
Ellen went up ahead and got some cold water and Jon poured it down my back and over my head. It helped – I was still exhausted, but and we made it into Corniglia for a great little lunch and a few ½ litres of vino bianco. I ordered a "salad cake" not knowing what it would be. It was delicious spinach and garlic filled pastry dough. Ellen had a mixed salad and the corn in it was canned. Well, you can't have it all...
We returned to Riomagiorre on the train. Ellen’s quest for water was finally fulfilled when we walked to the beach and swam in the Ligurian Sea. It was calm and warm and everyone there looked like they had baked in the sun for their whole life. Not us…but who cares! I took some photos of us on the beach, but you don't want to see then. Trust us. It was pure heaven. Jon’s quote from the beach: “I’m the king of the fricken sea!” We could have bobbed in the gentle waves all day...
On the way home we shopped at a few little markets and got ingredients for dinner. Pesto, pasta and spinach salad with ripe, juicy tomatoes and crostini with cheese. Here’s a picture of the meal and the view outside our kitchen:
(photo coming soon!)
We sent the evening sipping limoncello and eating strawberries on our porch. Pure Heaven.
Jon and Gibson’s quotes of the day:
Jon wowed us with his obscure swallow facts: If you throw a swallow, it will come back to you.
Gibson’s was observational: Italians love graffiti.
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