25 June – 1 July 2012
Our hike along the Cinque Terre in Italy almost didn’t start when we arrived at the station with no tickets. The only train that hour was due to arrive within a few minutes, but no problem — they had an automatic ticket machine. One that took almost 20 seconds to respond to each and every button press. I patiently wrestle the device for minutes until our desired train pulls into the station, at which point my patience runs out and I lay an ill-advised, yet terribly cathartic kick deep into the guts of the machine. Against all expectations, this sets off a number of sirens. We all look around for flashing lights and police running down the ramp (relax, this is Italy), then abandon our attempt to buy tickets and board the train illegally before it leaves. My corruption of the k-folks is proceeding to plan.
I hiked the Cinque Terre in 1998 and remember it as a beautiful and easy hike along a relatively secluded coastline. My memory has never been more evidently terrible — that hike has never been easy. It starts with a tease; a flat saunter along well made paths with pleasant views of the town we are leaving. Around the corner however all pretense ends. The path climbs vertically into the hot and dry hills with little shade, no breeze and few rewarding views until we get to the next town. Although the sign informs us this will take an hour and a half, it actually takes us about three. We finally descend into the next town at lunch time, and decide that we’ll just take the train from there. The rest of the towns and small hike segments we see are definitely not worth the hype. Farewell Cinque Terre, the memories were good.
The remaining days of the tour see us visit Montepulciano, Florence and a quick final stop in Milan. Montepulciano is renowned for its wines, however Keiko is still out of the wine drinking business with the tail end of her cold and the k-folks have never been big drinkers. It falls to me to keep the faith which I attempt with a gusto tempered by the thought I still have to drive everyone home to our distant winery we are staying at.
Florence is a whirlwind of museums and gelato in non-stop scorching heat, plus the experience of an Italian team winning an important match in the European Cup. The finale of our tour is Milan, with an ultra quick multi-hour tour through the city before we send the k-folks home. Getting home from Milan Linate airport was an experience in itself. The Italian bureaucracy is known for having highly honed disorganizational skills, yet the Linate airport must be approaching the pinnacle of those standards. We managed to survive through civil disobedience and bending the rules, which is the way that most Italians deal with the same problems. The k-folks finally got checked-in and sent home at which point Keiko and I return to the hotel for sleep and planning what to do next.
