No Reservations about Italy

It’s a Wednesday night and I’m sitting in the student center of our villa listening to the buzz of voices as other students make plans for their upcoming travels. Greece, Austria, London, and Spain are just a few of the names I hear being thrown out. We’ve been here about two weeks and we’ve almost finished with our intensive Italian course, and our regular classes start on Monday. We have so many different people here that I’m sure I’ll learn something from each of them. For example, I just got through taking a class in West Coast swing dancing tonight. Sunday night there is a self-defense class being taught (mainly for the girls) that one of the girls is teaching. Monday night we played soccer with some Italians and are planning on starting a team of our own in one of the Italian recreational leagues. Whether traveling or learning new things, there are literally endless possibilities before me…and that is somewhat overwhelming.

To catch you up, this past weekend was our first opportunity to travel on our own. So a few friends of mine—Jon, Kyle, Martin, Lucas, Melissa, and Jennaca—decided to visit an Italian tourist hotspot: The Cinque Terre…without reservations.

The Cinque Terre are five villages on part of the Italian Riviera. Each one is similar—but each one is unique. They are anywhere from mile to a couple of miles apart and there are hiking trails in between each of these small towns. These towns sit on cliffs above the sapphire blue of Mediterranean Sea. It’s beautiful, and the vistas are ironically similar to those in Malibu. And yes…the people do hang their laundry out to dry outside of their shutter-clad windows.

Saturday morning we got a train out of Firenze at 7:50 in the morning…and passed out on the way there. Luckily we woke up in time to get off at our stop and switch trains. The towns cluttered with stucco-ed buildings in every color of the rainbow…colors so intense that you’re sure there is a paint chip somewhere in a Home Depot with the name of that town on it. We didn’t discover much in the first town—Riomaggiore—except for the amazing views. We were in a hurry to hike to the next town. The first two hikes aren’t necessarily hikes…they’re cobblestone paved paths. One of those paths is called “Via dell’Amore” or “Lover’s Lane” and includes a “love seat” perched in front of a wrought-iron fence with the sea as a background. On this wrought-ironed gate are latched many “locks of love”. Young couples write their names on these attached locks and then throw the key over the railing into the sea… a symbol of their lasting love for each other.

The second town, Manarola, has a street that basically slopes down right into the sea…and the sides of the street are strewn with tiny fishing boats ready to be dragged out to gather the day’s catch. We stopped for a huge “10-Euro” pizza that we split among fives of us—from a place that obviously targeted tourists—but it was actually pretty good. We then made our way on to the third town—Corniglia—which is where we decide we better stop and start looking for rooms for the night. Of course, our program director had told us that the Cinque Terre was the only place she recommended students go without reservations—because each town is so small that many of the available rooms—in peoples homes, apartment complexes, or bed & breakfasts—are not reachable by phone or the web.

I think that she forgot that it is the end of summer and Italians have six weeks of vacation—so many of them had decided to go to the coast before the weather got cold—not to mention the Germans, English, Americans, and Australians we passed on the trails. So we started by calling all of the hotels that were suggested in out various guide books…keep in mind that most of them only spoke Italian and we barely speak it—dead end—no rooms. Fast-forward…we did what most Americans would be completely uncomfortable doing. We went into every coffee shop, bar and gelateria we could find and started asking around—still in Italian. Because Corniglia is a tiny town and only recently has had a huge tourist boom, every one knows everyone and knows who has rooms to rent. It was like my big fat Italian family—especially that evening when everyone started saying “Ciao” to the girls because they had met them earlier in the day. However, as with all things, the people wanted to make as much money as possible, so many would only book for a minimum of two nights. A glimmer of hope shone when a lady on the phone said she had a room and to meet her in the town square in ten minutes. Ok, but wait, which part is the town square…and how are we supposed to know what she looks like? Then Susanna came to the rescue. Susanna is originally from Lausanne, Switzerland and speaks fluent Italian and English. She lives in the Cinque Terre part of the year, and has been doing so for fifteen years. Finally, we were getting somewhere. She called the lady back, and met her daughter in the town square…where we were abruptly told that her mother was mistaken and that she didn’t have a room for us, because it was already promised to someone else. Ok, thanks anyway. It was at this point that the three guys who had split to cover more ground, came back to tell us that one of the hotels we had called now had a room for us. Huh? Oh, they thought we were Italians when we called before, but now that they know we are “Americans who spend a lot of money”, especially at the hotel restaurant that we were pretty much required to go to that night. FYI, don’t get “the assorted fried fish” unless you really want a true assortment. Ok, so that took care of the guys, but what about the girls? Susanna kept working hard for us and translating until we eventually had a room in an apartment complex for the girls. An immediate sigh of relief escaped from our lungs.

The next day, the somewhat treacherous hikes between the next two towns were probably the low points of the trip. They had beautiful views, but the heat made me sweat ridiculous amounts and the uneven rocky terrain made it difficult. I’m glad I did it though, because the sense of accomplishment was worth avoiding the ease of taking the trains. The dip in the sea at the end of the trail before jumping on the train home was the reward we had chased after the whole day.

Back to that afternoon after the room fiasco, the sun bathing on the rocks of a cove and cliff jumping into the sea were the highlights of the trip…and offered a great time to reflect on the events of that day. Why were we so stressed out about what had happened? Why did we say that we would never go on another trip without having reservations? My opinion…as Americans, we are sometimes scared to take chances and we idealize everything…especially our vacations. We need everything tamed, microwaveable, disposable, sanitized, scheduled, instant, online, and reserved. But other cultures and countries don’t work like that. They take siestas in the afternoon. They take six weeks vacation a year. They take the third Monday and the second Tuesday of each month off…or whenever they feel like it. Why do we need to be scheduled and planned and have all of these conveniences to feel comfortable? As for me I have no reservations about Italy, because I want to learn how to be focused on enjoying everyday life rather than working hard for some “life” in the future—whether it’s working for the weekend or the summer—or a bigger house or a better car. Life is what happens while you’re working for those things. So my wish for you and I is that we take a breath…enjoy the changing seasons…come back from lunch breaks late…stop and listen to street musicians…stay up late on Friday and sleep in Saturday…and live life instead of watching it happen around us.

Realizing what real life is,
Blake


P.S. I promise I’ll start writing these more often so that there is less to tell in one sitting, but until then bear with me on these long posts. I hope it will be worth your time!