The Cinque Terre: Part I

Wouldn't you just love to attend an idyllic wedding in Italy? You know, the kind of event where you stay in the perfect villa in a quintessential village, watching the old men place chess in the town square while the women saunter through the stone-laid alleys as they visit local markets. And don't forget that the wedding needs to take place in along the Mediterranean Sea in a resplendent yet quaint stone church erected atop chiseled rock during the 5th century. Imagine being a part of a fairytale and then hiking some of the most incredible land in the following days.

On April 25, 2016, we boarded our flight in Boston, MA, for a brief yet unforgettable journey to the Cinque Terre, Liguria, Italia for the celebration of my sister's wedding. It was more than a wedding; it was an experience. But little did we know of the adventure that would follow and how hiking through vineyards, wandering along the coastline and trekking wooded trails would lead us on one of the most beautiful, serene and exciting hikes. And the best way to start a story is from the beginning.

The boarding process is standard no matter where in the world you fly. We met the groom's mother at the airport since she happened to be taking the same flight. She, however, had the fortune of flying in more comfortable accommodations. As we stepped on to the plane for an eight hour overnight flight, I was filled with anticipation and excitement. Fits of unrestful sleep mixed with restlessness filled the time slowly. Arriving closer to our destination, I peeked out the airplane window as we started to descend. The beautiful landscape below changed from the sea to the mountains to verdant fields. When the plane's wheels hit the tarred runway, I jolted with newfound energy and alertness. We were in Roma, Italia. Bellissimo!

After collecting our belongings, the three of us searched for the photographer (a colleague of mine) and videographer (a friend and colleague of the photographer), and then made the decision to take the train to our "almost final" destination: La Spezia. Two hours passed between the trains that would transport us to the more remote region in the northwestern part of the country. During our four hour train ride, the rail hugged the coastline, and the sea was magnificent. Despite the sound of the speeding train, the beauty was deafening. The wind was alive, causing the majestic waves to crash in glorious violence against the rocks and coastline. The color of the sea was a deep, inviting blue. The sky clear and sunny. Grazing sheep and tall shoots of grass littered the opposite side. Quite a perfect Spring day.

The conversation flowed easily and then steadily receded as evening drew near and fatigue set in. Deezy and I remained awake while the other three pairs of eyes quietly shuttered for a quick nap. The train raced along while passing grazing animals, vineyards and mountains. Dusk was creeping upon us when we finally arrived at La Spezia Centrale. My father cheerfully waited to chauffeur the group to Porto Venere driving a the Mercedes van generous enough to fit us all comfortably along with our bags. The van had already been marked by a battle, its side having become intimately acquainted with the retaining wall of a narrow Italian road.

The roads were, indeed, slender with careless and serpentine twists and turns more suitable for a horse and carriage. Pastel hues colored the imperfectly built historical homes vertically arranged along the habor's edge. The pedestrian path directed towards la Chiesa di San Pietro softened against the dusty plum sky and dusk was officially upon us. We continued in the van in the opposing direction towards the hotel, where my family and the other guests awaited our arrival. As we turned the rounded corner towards the spectacular hotel, my eyes shifted left to follow the harbor lined with boats. Where are we? I wondered to myself. I had only read about places like this in books and seen places of such beauty in the movies.

Everyone was waiting in the lobby. My mother's face noticeably injured from a fall that she had on a shallow, uneven stone stairway during an evening stroll a few days prior. The ill-fated step cost her a trip to the doctor, a walking cane and some substantial markings on her face. I was forewarned of the injuries and arrived equipped with make-up "spackle" thick enough to pour a mean pancake. It undoubtedly would mask any imperfection on her timeless and soft skin.

Hunger overruled exhaustion, and we opted to partake in the local food and vino in a quaint restaurant, where we found the priest and another wedding guest finishing their dinner. After a bottle of red wine and a delicious but light dinner, we headed to the villa, which would be our shared home for the next several days.

Stay tuned for Part II & III. They will dazzle you!