Day 10 and 11. Ventimiglia, Genoa and Cinque Terra

Day 10.

After 2 hours of repetitious beautiful housing dotting the coast, the train suddenly crossed a sorry looking bridge and ducked under a scruffy looking motorway. This is the new Europe and we had passed from France into Italy. No passport, just entry into a seperate state with a seperate President etc and importantly a seperate language. Ventimiglia has a horrible looking train station that is obviously a relick of when it had some importance when it had the duty of processing those entering the country. Now the government function has gone it seems to be just an oversized mostly unused station. On departure from the train we were not ambitious as to what we would come across in the old border town. For a start the train from France had no working loos in one carriage so a third of the train rushed to use the public WC at the station. Good news there was no call for 50c like in France. Bad news a Turkish toilet which I've never liked. With fear that this blog turns too far south, I hate the squatting and aiming to ensure that what you need to get rid of lands in the hole and not in the back of youjr trousers. Good news that never happened, I'm always too careful. Bad news the working flush was far too powerful and sent water and faecal matter hurling across the floor missing me and my bag mercifully. My first taste of Italy, but it got better really fast.

The beach at Ventimiglia

We noticed that there was a bit more to VM than we at first feared, and a row of shops and a market was there to entertain us for the 2 hours until the train took us to Genoa. Hungry (a common feature) we looked for food and found some pizza for EUR 2.50 or thereabouts. Feeding ourselves for less than a fiver felt great after France. Also the plain Margherita pizza was perfect even if it was reheated crap. The trick was the tomato sauce not the cheese. So sweet, and the dough so bouncy. We had another later.  We killed the time relaxing on the beach, and looking to the waves and for me just glancing to my left and being amazed as I always am by borders. France has the one of the oldest continuous borders in Europe (if you forget the 5 years Hitler played up), and to see that little river as the difference between two old kingdoms and now two republics fascinates me. Then again I was brought up on an island.


We arrived in Genoa about 5:10pm and found our way with little trouble to the hotel. Sarah found an amazing hostel that appears more like an old office block with old style lift etc. Inside the hostel is on old apartment and the room is pretty big, with a courtyard outside. We wandered the city for a bit, but we didn't become enamored until we reached the historic section of winding streets into obscure Piazzas. We found a place and maybe encouraged by cost, but also by the outside feel we decided to stay for some pasta. My tagelini was perfection on a plate, with the just oily enough pasta without being greasy and again the sweet tomato. Sarah's pesto lasagna was also pretty good when she offered me a bite. Washed down with Birra Moretti I was more than happy. We wandered the streets some more and found the smells of a German market with sausage and beer on offer, which I didn't make use of. After that we became a little lost, but found our way back with a little help and a gelatto for Sarah. That night I at last got a great nights sleep.

Day 11 - Cinque Terra

some small town on the Cinque Terra

Today we took the 2 hour train journey to Monterossa and took the hike joining the villages dotting the Cinque Terra. The first leg was probably the hardest but also the most rewarding in views. The coastal walk between Monterossa and Vernazza occassionally wandering away from the seaview slightly and into vineyards, is breath taking. I say this even with the steps that seemed to rise forever and the weather which was less than agreeable. Part of the walk was closed off so we caught a train from somewhere to somewhere and walked another leg called the Dell Amore. The walk took us through a tunnel which offered the chance of legal graffitti. I made a comment of me and Sarah and a comment for Danielle and the family. The finishing point was the Riomaggiore (probably) and from there we caught the train back to Genoa at 5:20pm-ish. On the way back Sarahs cold hit her and she cancelled our date with beer and sausage in little-germany. She was fine with me going alone, but my head was also pounding a bit. We had takeaway from Pastaway, a place I found near the hotel. Sarah had something spinachy and me some kind of tart/pie thing with ricotta cheese, oh and a couple of bottles of Birra Moretti. Quite and exhausting day, and looking forward to tomorrow and seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa for the first time. Its touristy and tacky I know, but its something I've always wanted to see since a boy. I know Easyjet...blah blah blah. Sarah is moaning with her cold, so I better close this up.