We just finished three days and two nights in Monterosso, which is first (or last) in a line of five small cliff-hugging towns that together comprise an area called the Cinque Terre. From Monterosso, one can see all of the towns, especially at night when their city lights form four distant constellations along the water's edge. 

Early one morning, we started a hike to the neighboring town called Vernazza. We started early before it got too hot, which means we skipped breakfast. The hike is particularly difficult. You must ascend several seemingly endless sets of steps, only then to descend the same number of stairs back to sea level.

After one and a half grueling hours, we made it to Vernazza, where we hoped to find a big breakfast awaiting our triumphant march into the city. It was not to be. After sitting at a cafe for 15 minutes, the stressed out waiter told us it would take another 50 more minutes for him to bring us bread and coffee. In general, Europeans don't value breakfast as much as Americans do. And so when their restaurants are flooded by tourists in the early morning hours, I'm not sure they know what do do with them. In our case, they looked so relieved when we decided just to leave.

Vernazza was flooded in 2011. Mud from the steep hillside came rushing through the town center and practically destroyed everything in its path. This garnered the world's sympathy, and the little town received a lot of help in the way of redevelopment. Today, it's hard to tell that anything happened apart from the several plaques and pictures documenting the devastation. 

Next, we hiked to Corniglia in the middle of the day. The only respite from the heat was a little shack-like structure that hanged out over a cliff where you could order freshly squeezed orange juice and lemon slushies. The view out the backside of the shack was second only to the refreshments found inside. In Corniglia, we enjoyed the creamiest gelato we've ever tasted made by a guy named Alberto. We also tried our first taste of the local wine. Carved out along the steep hillsides are terraces packed with vines. Unless you've hiked up to the vineyards, it's difficult to understand the labor that's required. Thinking of putting in an eight hour day on the terraces after straining and sweating for at least an hour on the initial commute seems almost impossible. But the locals continue to do it, and we have them to thank for the wonderful and refreshing wine that's produced in this region.

Next, we trained to Manarola and then boated to Riomaggiore. We enjoyed each town but not as much as the others. We wanted back to the beach, and the only sandy one happened to be right outside our hotel back in Monterosso. The water in the Cinque Terre was so comfortably warm that we spent much of our beach time in the water. 

Several concrete Nazi bunkers dot the cliffs overlooking the swimming holes. In fact, the Nazis used the same railways that tourists use today and inhabited many of the churches and castles we visited. These reminders of Italy's dark past make me thankful for how the times have changed. Today, my only issue is that it's difficult to find breakfast. Not long ago, this area was beset by the worst kind of tyranny.