Travel info meter set to 98% Tuesday May 30 Our last morning at the organic farm finds us seated at the table that provides the most awe-inspiring view from the terrace. Isabella has left us her usual breakfast of fresh bread, pastries, honeys, jam, yogurt, juice, fresh fruit, 2 types of soft cheese, and a large quantity of strong coffee. We are spoiled for life.
Packed up and ready to go to the train station in Bordighera, a much wealthier town than Ventimiglia only 5 miles away, she loads us up into her vehicle and soon we are hurtling down the road with horn bleating before every twist in the road. Even though we were only at their place for 2 days you soon learn to recognize specific cars going past as each horn has its own tone and each driver their own style of administering it, and you can measure their stress level by the duration of each toot or waaaah.
She loads us onto the platform directly in front of where we need to be as now she recognizes how deficient we can be in understanding directions and she feels it’s her job to see all of her customers down the road safely. She is a woman of the highest order.
We’re riding the first of 2 trains today on our way to Corniglia, the middle town of the five that give the Cinque Terre it’s name. We will switch in Genova (Genoa) in about 2 hours. The view from the train starts with the Mediterranean on our right but we pass through numerous tunnels under the mountains where it is only black and then we are coasting through the grungy parts of Italy’s 6th largest city. Some cities show well from the tracks but not Genova. The backside of warehouses and the massive industrial section of their port is dirty and bleak but I’ve read that it is a beautiful city in other parts with a strong history of trade and conquest so I will give it the benefit of doubt.
The second train should land us at our destination in an hour and a half. Italian trains are a step below their French and Spanish counterparts. They are rougher, noisier, not as clean or as well maintained. On neither train do we see a conductor or anyone to check our tickets.
It’s obvious that Italy is suffering economically and it shows in their infrastructure, whether it’s trains or roads. People are not as fit as in their neighbouring countries or have the same attitude to how they present themselves by their dress and bearing when you meet them on the street. What they do have in great quantity is passion. They are loud and it feels like they are constantly arguing with each other and making gestures and honking incessantly but it is just their manner and unless you are dissing their mothers everyone comes out of the conversations unscathed.
We’ve already been told of the endemic corruption from local to federal governments and the hold that the mafia still has in many industries. These issues are not new and the locals have learned how to manoeuvre through the bureaucracy to have a full and satisfying life. More than ever I appreciate that we don’t have to make allowances back home as they do here for justice or even the appearance of justice.
Our final stop has been reached and we are at the base of Corniglia on the back side, away from the sea. With luggage in tow we take the shuttle into town up a very steep grade (steep might seem like an overused word in these Italian posts but there is no other descriptor that works better when it is needed so often).
We are plunked in the tiny town square. We had inquired at the Tourist Information Centre when we stepped off the train and asked for a map. We were laughingly told that there is only one road in town with narrow alleys running from it and no map is available. They give a glance to our bnb address and say that it is right on the main avenue and you wont be able to miss it. My spidey sense begins to tingle and I fear the worst already.
Well there indeed is only one road, the one that the shuttle brought us up on and it continues from the square off into oblivion straight up the mountain. The address we are looking for is 119 and we are facing #46. I check and sure enough the numbers are rising as the road climbs and we have only one way to go. It’s hot, like burn your neck hot, and I have the fully loaded backpack and the suitcase behind me; Carol has much the same plus her hip is giving her some trouble. I push forward and she lags a little behind and signals me to reconnoiter ahead. I’m 300 meters up the hillside and see no sign of another address number and finally find someone to ask and sure enough I AM GOING IN THE WRONG DIRECTION AGAIN!!
15 minutes later we’re back in the square and heading down a narrow strip between 4 storey buildings with shops at street level and this has magically been deemed a continuation of the ‘road’ that we entered on. It makes no sense. 119 follows directly after 85 of course and here we are.
After meeting the lovely steward of the keys to our 3rd floor (in reality 4th floor room), Mette, a young Danish woman, we are settled in to our 10 x 12 room with small balcony overlooking the ‘street’. Also included in the deal is a shared kitchen and nice bathroom area on the top floor. There is another, larger balcony attached to the bathroom with a fabulous view of part of the town on our right and the Mediterranean off to our left and terraced olive groves straight ahead. Another home run for our Airbnb choices.
We check out the town (population 240, plus double that in travellers) and it is an interesting mix of local artisans, eating and drinking establishments, a few small plazas, all surrounded with towering slopes and of course the sea.
We eat and then head up to our bathroom balcony to rest, take more photos, and drink the wine that we brought with us from our last stop in Liguria. This could become habit-forming.
Blue Delivery 
So much walking up hill! You guys deserve all the wine and great food you can get.
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