As I said, Italians sleep in...or at least where we've been...who knows? Maybe they get up early to have a break from the tourists? It was time to wash some clothes and I arrived bright and early at 8:05 and got one of the first machines and actually figured it out...fake it till you make it. I think lauder-mats are universal.
Soon after, Mackenzie and I made cappuccinos in our room. Our beautiful little apartment's pantry consisted of: olive oil, light balsamic vinegar, sea salt, coffee, tea, and instant cappuccinos. What else does one need? We then dolled up in our beach attire, walked down the alley for a focaccia, and then took a 30 minute hike in the "Valley of Lemons" and you won't find that in any Rick Steves book! It's straight up a rocky path surrounded by lemon orchards on tiered hills with a clear brook running through it. The photo with my hands in the air is along that path.
We knew we would be walking the next day so we headed to the beach. However, on the way, we came across 90 year old man who said we were beautiful and looked like sisters...I made the mistake of hugging him and he literally tried to kiss me and then he went after Mackenzie...it was horrifying and he asked us to come back tomorrow. Needless to say, we never passed that way again...too bad, because the focaccia was amazing.
The public beach was the size of my deck so Mackenzie spied two "beds" as the chaise lounges are called and we paid the 9 euros a piece to be on the private beach and dang if the attendant didn't walk us right to those two chairs! Yep, we swam in the Mediterraneo and seriously thought of Jim. As some of you might know...Jim and I swam in the Atlantic in Virginia beach less than two weeks before he died...he really was a man who loved the water. Sometimes I think his soul needed the ocean and living for so long without being around large bodies of water was too much for him to bear.
Ah well, nothing like a swim to work up an appetite, so we left our chairs (don't worried we went back after lunch; 9 euros good for the whole day!) We walked up a side road and found a sweet little restaurant 'Il Brigantino' and split a panini and prosciutto with melon and a small local beer which reminded us of #Red Leg's Blue Nose Brown, for 15 euros. Melon and prosciutto has been our go to food. And why not?
Left the beach at 5:00 ish and decided to take a walk up the mountain to see the city from above. We were walking on the road, which was rather precarious with the speed in which the cars travel on roads as wide as a bowling alley. At one point, Mackenzie and I both said that we were thirsty. I swear within 30 seconds, an apricot fell from a tree directly in front of us. (Mana from heaven) We scooped it up and devoured it. Pat Messick, you would have loved that apricot! We saw a "Free wine tasting" sign and followed it down through a vineyard (the back way) but it was closed but as we walked up the driveway, there in our view was the cemetery we had wanted to visited, but could not from the front of the town since the path there was damaged from a storm they had a few years back. Monterosso Al la Mer is a cemetery with amazing history. Eerily silent, we walk gently past rows and rows of interned people whose pictures as they were in life were proudly displayed. One woman had a picture with her on her bike and it read; "Le anime dei giusti sono nelle mani di Dio"
Well, you can probably figure out the rest of the day...food and wine, this time a glass of the local Cinque Terre wine. We ate at L'Osteria and sat next to a man who owned the town...he was like the god-father of Monterosso. Charming and well spoken, having been educated in London; he seemed confused as to why he didn't know Fredericco Rasso, the man who rented us the Air B&B...I hope we didn't get anyone in trouble!
Bed time at 9:30 since we were to hike the path from Monterosso to Riomaggiore the next day. We fell asleep watching the Property Brothers in Italian...those two brothers look even better speaking Italian; I had to force Mackenzie to turn off the TV!
Tip of the day: 1. We've only had our Euro Rail passes looked at once on any of the trains. 2. Don't hug old Italian men....
Peace and Ciao, The Traveling Women
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