The turn-offs towards the little coastal towns were better suited for
motorcycles than 4 wheeled vehicles, or even our little, rented VW Polo. Down
and around hairpin curves, each of which threatened to rise up by its elbows
and hurl us onto the rocks below, the little seaside ports always just around
the next curve.

The road was only one lane that slithered along the hills over the
Mediterranean, but sometimes one wasn't enough. Outside of Maniglia we came up
against a red light where we queued until the traffic coming in the other
direction ceased, and then eased out way into a slender tunnel that slipped
just under the mountain skin for a 10km stretch.

Once we entered Cinque Terre proper, the turn-offs towards the little coastal
towns were better suited for motorcycles than 4 wheeled vehicles, or even our
little, rented VW Polo. Down and around hairpin curves, each of which
threatened to rise up by its elbows and hurl us onto the rocks below, the
little seaside ports always just around the next curve.

The road, the tunnel, the fact the train manages to connect these little
outposts of medieval civilization, are all testament to Italian obstinacy,
design prowess, and perspicacity. Vernazza is a little fishing village no
different from El Tránsito, and yet this is a modern, gorgeous, developed
village, and El Tránsito is a 3rd world of families who can't be bothered to
repair the walls of their homes as they crumble. The Italians built for keeps,
each generation building something well enough to last through the generations
so their descendants could occupy themselves with something else.

I was reminded of this lovely trip when I read in the New York Times about the
disaster Vernazza experienced in 2011: mudslides, torrential rains, collapsed
sewer mains, and the town square buried under millions of cubic meters of mud.
Vernazza has been devastated. More on the disaster here, and if you're
interested in helping the villagers, visit http://savevernazza.com or
vernazzafutura.blogspot.com.