Over centuries on the rugged Italian Riviera coast, stone craftsmanship turned steep slopes into sturdy terraces. In turn, the terraces supported a string of colourful seaside villages and vineyards: Cinque Terre.
Italian for “paradise,” in my opinion.
Nadine and I were headed to Italy to attend my cousin’s wedding anniversary near Lucca.
Before our trip, our friend David showed us pictures of the coast he had visited at Cinque Terre, noting that “the stone terracing is pretty stunning.” Looking back, I know I didn’t fully appreciate his comment. Perhaps, I had mused, David was a little too obsessed with stone. Certainly, I had not yet developed my own stone-building obsession.
Taking the mule trail
After a wonderful family event in an elegant villa near Lucca, Nadine and I travelled to the tiny, pretty coastal town of Volastra. it is perched high on the hills overlooking Cinque Terre. Our hotel owner, knowing our Italian vocabulary totalled perhaps 15 words, pulled out a map. She proceeded to give us walking directions in enthusiastic English to the nearest coastal Cinque Terre village, Manarola. “You can take the path here!” she added — pointing to the spot.
We started off on a small road, then caught an ancient set of wide stone steps heading down to the ocean. The steps themselves were tightly constructed of dry stone, originally built to withstand daily mule-trains up and down the hill. After centuries of use, the steps were flattened and polished.
Rounding a corner on the mule trail, we saw the full scope of the stonework that was the foundation for life in Cinque Terre — sweeping curved terraces tracking the coast like elevation lines on a topographical map.
Orchards and gardens occupied the terraces, as well as vineyards that used a small monorail-like system to move the grape harvest up and down the steep hills. Below, the colourful homes and buildings of Manarola clung to the steep coast next to the ocean, also buttressed by stone terracing.
How steep was it? We continued down to the main street and small port of Manarola, where fishers still plied their trade in small ocean-going boats. It was so steep that each boat had to be stored on its trailer on main street, then lifted by a small crane and winched down into the rocky but well-protected harbour. At the end of a fishing day, the boat and catch would be winched back up. Visitors hiked into the rocky harbour for a dip, then relaxed in trattorias in the small town square, enjoying local specialities of pesto, fish and wine.
A fishing boat is lowered by winch into the harbour at Manarola
Interconnections
The five towns of Cinque Terre, and larger hub of La Spezia to the south, are connected to each other by rail, road, boat and walking trails. Knowing we could return by train or boat, Nadine and I set off on hikes each day to explore the interconnected villages. Paradise can be crowded in summer, so we avoided some of the visitor traffic in the towns by hiking through the country.
As the area’s commerce now favoured tourism, some of its original vineyards had gone fallow, and pine trees were putting down roots on the ancient stone terraces. In other areas, farmers continued to nourish grape vines, fruit trees such as lemon, olive and apple and lush vegetable gardens.
Cinque Terre clings to the cliff. In foreground: a fruit tree is harvested
Here and there, we came across masons repairing areas of terracing that were occasionally damaged by flash floods on the steep coast. They used wheelbarrows to transport their tools and stone. There was very little room here for motorized construction machines, so much of the work was by hand. They used a dry stone construction method — carefully stacking the larger stones one-over-two and two-over one, and sloping back into the hill. Behind the face stones, they packed in smaller stones to give the wall integrity. On the wall’s face, they tapped in little wedge stones to keep it tight. On top, they placed heavy stones to keep the wall in place.
A stone terrace gets its close-up.
Solid as a rock
Along its coasts and in its mountains, Italy is said to have 100,000 miles of dry stone walls. Because they are permeable, they retain soil and some moisture while allowing heavier precipitation to wash through. Many have lasted untouched for centuries — works of art and engineering, without mortar — solid as rock. A New York Times article described how citizens of Cinque Terra are reigniting stone building traditions to monitor and repair ancient terraces — to prevent them from washing into the sea. (See NY Times photo of Manarola, included at top of this post).
The road less travelled
We took a bad fork in the trail and ended up clinging to the side of a cliff on a path that was getting narrower by the second. A young Swedish couple hailed us, and gestured for us to turn back — they directed us back to the main trail. We thanked them, and during a brief chat, learned that they were on their honeymoon in Italy.
At the end of a gorgeous hike, we arrived hot and tired in the town of Vernazza. We made a beeline for seats in a breezy patio in the town square. Cooling off with a glass of local white wine, we ordered some pasta to reward our hiking efforts. At the other side of the restaurant, we spotted the young Swedish couple just sitting down, also red-faced from the hike. We paid our waiter to send some wine their way as a surprise.
They caught our eye and smiled at us, and we raised a toast to them. “Cheers! Well done! And thanks again for setting us straight!”
Cooling off
Back in our small hotel in Volastra that night, we wandered over to the town’s only restaurant. Most of the staff were still having a pre-shift chat and smoke, sitting just outside. So we continued through the old part of the town, where a narrow promenade and high stone buildings afforded a cool walk on a warm day.
It was mid-summer and days were above 30 Celsius. The use of stone’s thermal properties to moderate heat are even more important in the heat spikes of the Italian summer, when temperatures can approach 40 Celsius in some spots.
After circling back through the courtyard of the town’s old stone church, we sat down to a local speciality of small whole fish and pasta — and more local wine to wash it down. There we plotted our next set of hikes — including an ambitious one with some steep stretches connecting to the last village of Monterosso al Mare — the only one of the five villages boasting a beach. And we could not miss Riomaggiore, where couple declare their love by placing padlocks on gates along the seaside stroll.
Lovers’ locks on the Oceanside promenade at Rimaggiore
A little piece of Cinque Terre…
Trying to take in all the beauty and expanse of the Italian coast, I thought about the lakeside place we had purchased near Minden, Ontario, north of Toronto, with its steep slopes towards the lake. Not exactly gravity-defying slopes like those in Cinque Terre, but in sore need of some stone garden terracing. Nadine and I had already rolled up our sleeves and built a little stone patio by the lake.
Perhaps I could bring back a little piece of Cinque Terra to our new place in Minden, Ontario?
A purple Hydrangea blooms and thrives on a stone terrace garden in Cinque Terra
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