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Cinque terre was an absolute blast. Though not typical tourist destinations, these five little towns were exactly what I'm wanting from this trip. First night I arrived just in time to get the last bus up to my hostel in a place called biassa. Showed the driver the address and he dropped me off at 109(my hostel was 110). Turns out that 110 was a twenty minute climb by bus up a steep mountain. Upon realizing this I got pretty frustrated, but it got better when this nice Italian lady called the driver a retardo. For the first time in my life, I threw up a thumb. Small town, nice people, figured it couldn't hurt. Not bragging but the first car I tried took the bait. Realitively silent car ride since he only spoke Italian, but I luckily knew thank you in his language. Night was calm in the hostel, met a few people and got a drink. Next day five or six of us set out from riomaggore, the first town of the five. The views from the trails stringing these towns together are unlike anything I've seen before. Sharp, rocky coastlines surrounded by the bluest of water with quaint little colorful towns built in. I'm sure my pictures won't do the scenes justice, but this place was pure Italian beauty. As we walked the smells of fresh lemons and olives were very apparent. What mountainside is terracable has been used to grow grapes, lemons, and of course olives. Dropped my big bag off at the third town and we wound up doing all four hikes. Last two were espescially challenging but the views were so incredible we hardly noticed. Ended the hike with some peach, strawberry, and mandarin gelatto on the beach. Water felt great and the sand massaged the blisters forming on my feet. Next day may have even topped that day. Bought a one euro carton of wine and headed for a secluded beach. I didn't know when we left, but we wound up passing through a kilometer long abandoned train
Tunnel to get there. Finally felt like I was on a true adventure when both ends were gone and I couldn't see a single thing. Came out to the beach and an unpleasant sight of a roughly sixty year old overweight man sunning his naked body struck us like a train coming down that old tunnel. My first nude beach! Turns out that the conception of nude beahes in Europe being mostly filled with old people is true. One of the only young women to appear all day was freaked out by my drunken friend Marco ogling her so obviosly. If you're curious, the wine was not enough to lower my shorts nor my American inhibitions. All wrinkled old genitals aside, the beach really made me feel great that I was experiencing something that nearly no typical tourists do. Now I'm on the train to Florence with a quick stop in Pisa planned. Marco will be joining me in Florence for the biggest festival of the year that I just dumbly stumbled upon. Think
I'm almost to the city of the leaning
Tower, should be interesting!
- comments
Missy you were definitely right that I missed all your new posts! well, i'm glad you're having so much fun, seeing so many cool things, and most of all that the nude beach was filled with old men. :)