Trailblazers Too: Monday, June 4, 2018 (Rome/Cinque Terre)

In Vernazza

We got up early and were ready to leave our room by 6:00. We decided to leave the money for the balance of our room (which had to be in cash) in the front office drawer along with a note and our key. Tiffany had used some of the cash for the room so we pooled our money and had just enough cash. I think we had one or two euros between us. We had already purchased metro tickets the night before and knew which metro to grab so we’d have an easy departure. Our plan was to get breakfast and more cash at Termini station, where we would catch the long train ride into Cinque Terre.

I headed to the front gate so we could unlock it and I could hold the gate while Tiffany left the money and note. I was concerned about the time it would take to get the luggage to the metro but we made good time. We walked down the stairs and Tiffany reached for the metro tickets. She immediately panicked as she realized she did not have the tickets and must have left them with the money. The train worker told us there was a ticket machine on the wall but it only took cash. With agony on her face, Tiffany ran out of the metro to find an ATM while I watched our luggage. 6:25 a train came through with many vacant seats. 6:31 another but no sign of Tiffany. I started my prayers again – help Tiffany find money, get her back here and please let us make the long train. She darted in like Wonder Woman and ran to the ticket machine. Cries of anguish came as she yelled it would not take her cash. The train would be arriving any second. I had no choice, it was time to beg. I ran up to the ticket person and asked him to please let us through. The machine would not take our money and we were going to miss our connecting train. With no feelings of anxiety or need to rush, he slowly nodded his head and pushed the button to let us through. I’m sure he had no idea what this hysterical Americano lady was pleading but he saved our day. The next train was just arriving and of course, it was packed. We slung our suitcases onto the train and continued to pray we’d make the train to Cinque Terre.

Termi Station is the biggest train station in Rome. Tiffany is the techy one of us and she had all information about our tickets on her phone. I like paper copies but didn’t make them since I was in good hands. Of course, technology is only good when it works. We could not get the tickets to load so we could read which platform to head towards. In fact, we weren’t even sure which way to catch the trains, not the metro. I asked two people with the international sign of Choo Choo and unfortunately one man led us back down the stairs to the metro on the other side of Termini Station. Breathless and short of time, Tiffany drug her luggage up the flights and then returned to help me. It was now 6:50. We raced through the train station until we found Italia Rail. We saw platforms 1-5 so we quickly entered. There are signs inside that show what platforms trains are leaving from but there are not many workers to assist passengers. We found our train number and it was departing from Platform 21 – the other end of the station. It was now 6:53. We put it into high speed, panic mode, and zipped through the crowd at rocket speed, sparks flying off our luggage wheels. We found our train but it was car 1 and we were in car 9. I could see my heart pounding through my shirt so I told Tiffany to just jump on the train. The cars were all connected and we’d eventually get back to Car 9. We had made it – another Thank God.

We had not had time to get food so we were glad to pass a snack bar in Car 4. While we got some looks as we repeatedly apologized for bumping elbows and legs as we carted our luggage through the narrow aisles of each coach, we found our seats, breathless and thankful at the same time. After we settled in our seats, I went and got us pastries and water.

Our toilet option in one of
the train stations.

Five hours later we rolled through La Spezia and wondered why our tickets did not have us getting off there, but instead had us going through several other little villages and then turning back. We got off our train as the ticket instructed us to do but it was running 20 minutes late so we missed our connection. We had to try and determine what train to take next as the train workers only spoke Italian. We wound up taking 3 extra trains. Each train left on a different platform which meant hauling the luggage down two flights of stairs and back up two more. Operating “lifts” elevators in small railroad stations don’t exist. Feeling a little defeated, we reached our Cinque Terra Village of Riomaggiore about two hours later than anticipated. Our host for our room had originally planned to meet us at the train station but due to our delay had sent directions instead.

The town was gorgeous with the turquoise water splashing upon the rocks, and pastel buildings extended upwards. We drug our luggage off the train and began the incline to our room. Holy cow! I might as well have tried to walk up the side of a building. Tiffany led the way, panting and sweating but making headway. I had to have several motivational conversations with myself as well as asking for Divine Intervention in order to take another step. Imagine being on a Stepmaster for an hour, carrying a backpack and pulling 39 pounds. My calve muscles hurt, my feet hurt, my posterior muscles were inflamed! I noticed as I trudged uphill that people were looking at me as if I might roll back down the hill any minute or pass out from exhaustion. One man had even come out of his store and smiled as I passed. Then Divine Intervention appeared in the shape of a buff, female hiker from Holland. She asked if she could help me. I thanked her but said I’d make it. She told me she’d hiked in Israel and really, she would like to help me. She took my suitcase and told me to take small steps, modeling as we walked uphill.

Tiffany was just a little ahead of us and found the steps to the left of the church. Are you kidding – more steps?! I was thinking to myself that I was going to have to stay in our room the entire time we were in Cinque Terre. Tiffany was going to have to bring me food because I could not leave the room until our departure, that is if I ever made it to the room. I was even looking at rooms on ground level and thought about just getting another room, no matter the cost. Tiffany said our room was number 61 so she would go ahead and check in for us. My friend from Holland told me her husband would be down soon and he would carry my luggage up the stair. She told me he was very strong and if I would just wait, he would do that for me. I honestly had no choice so feeling exhausted I was glad to have help. Finally the husband arrived, looking like Schwartzenegger in his time). He grabbed my suitcase and tackled the steps with no problem. I only had myself and could barely keep up with him. We rounded the corner and saw 12. I told him our room was 61. We continued the climb, room 38, room 47, and finally room 61. I yelled up to Tiffany and so did my friend. She answered and he called out Tiffany and then headed up to the room with my luggage.. Those last 32 steps were about 14 inches tall and very steep. I thanked him repeatedly as he left. I walked into the room to find Tiffany absolutely exhausted as well. She had sent a text to the host that we were almost to the room. The host and several other ladies had hung out the window, calling to Tiffany to guide her to the room. We rested for a bit and then Tiffany had to do some laundry. She hung clothing all through the room and in the shower. We tried to freshen up a bit and then headed out for an appointment at 7:30 in Vernazza, another village.

We were meeting Margherita Ermirio, a resident of Vernazza. Her family has lived in the same house for over 800 years. She was home on October 25, 2011 when the worst flooding ever recorded nearly destroyed this village and the nearby village Monterossa. Margherita told us she was talking to her dad on the phone and told him it was really raining hard. He told her it would stop soon but it didn’t. They received over 20 inches of rain in 4 hours. Over 13 feet of mud and debris covered the first floor of any buildings that were still standing. The town was cut off from the outside world for a time because all the roads were washed away from the rain. Margherita said it was a very hard time, and 13 people died (their bodies turned up a couple of weeks later in France).

Johnnie, Margherita, Tiffany

Margherita had traveled abroad for 9 years and decided to return home. Since the flood she has organized a program to rebuild the dry stone walls and to teach about the Ligurian culture. The walls are necessary to terrace the rocky land so they can grow crops. They grow olive trees, chestnut trees, and grapes. Many of the trees have been abandoned because it is too hard to care for them. Her goal is to get the walls rebuilt and maintenance is a constant need. She trains groups that come in to help. She is hoping more young people will feel the need to help rebuild their city and decide to take up permanent residency in the village. Today only 200 people actually live in the village.

We did not have the opportunity to join a group as she did not have any planned during our visit. She did give us a little history in the building of the walls. It is necessary to dig down into the wall and dirt to find the cornerstones. She said it was important that the walls are rebuilt with fallen stones, never with new stones. Her father taught her the “value of the stone” , just as her aunt had done with him. In Vernazza it is the women who built the dry-stone walls since the men were at sea. She uses a type of compost as the fillers in the rock wall. Then soil is added on the terraced area so it is suitable for planting. The wall must be built from the cornerstone or it will have to be torn down and redone.

As we talked, we shared our experience of taking the long bus ride through Rome and coming across the huge cemetery. She explained that the grave sites of the village people was at the top of the mountain. We told her how we had seen all the fresh flower stands and wondered why until we rode through the cemetery. The grass was high and not cared for but there were flowers on almost every grave. She told us her father takes a rose and puts in on her mother’s grave, just like how he would bring her home a rose every day. It was an amazing opportunity to meet this woman and to hear her passion for her village. We are hoping to build a small wall at our school next year, maybe one that be added to in subsequent years.

After our visit with Margherita, we caught a train back to our village. We had dinner and then Tiffany did some laundry in the room. She laid everything on the portable clothesline or anywhere possible for her clothes to dry. It had been a long day so we went to bed.

WALKING ACTIVITY: 5.6 miles; 12,298 steps; 16 floors