Floating in the emerald waters of Paraggi

A few days after my first visit and I returned to Santa Margherita, having caught a glimpse on the bus of a paradisiacal beach which I decided I had to visit. Its name is Paraggi and it is a place where many famous Italians, including Berlusconi, have grand holiday homes looking down on the clear, blue water and sandy beaches. Armed with beach towel, Ian McEwan's Atonement (because you can't get much more British) and a little Italian picnic of pizza and arrancini, I spent the day in Paraggi squeezed amongst the rabble of the public beach - which is unfortunately only a thin strip of sand surrounded by the mostly empty €40-a-sunbed private beaches.

The beach is tucked into a little bay, so the water is completely calm and so clear and shallow that you can swim far from the beach into relative tranquility and just float along, which is exactly what I spent most of the day doing.

You could say that Paraggi has become a money-making business, rather than the open, welcome beach that it should be. This, I think, is all down to keeping it exclusive and secluded, for it is so beautiful that people don't want to share it, they want it all for themselves and are willing to pay large amounts of money to keep it that way. I personally would like to see the public beach expanded so that more people can appreciate Paraggi's beauty, without being two centimetres away from the next person also trying to do so...

Yet there is something wonderful about the almost emerald coloured water and the fact that the beach is surrounded by trees and greenery. It gives Paraggi a uniqueness that I won't be able to forget anytime soon.

Land and Sea: The Cinque Terre

It was my last week as an au pair, a time when I was feeling increasingly irritated by children and more than ready to move on to the next part of my life, and then the family told me they were going away for a few days. Ah sweet freedom! I was left with their beautiful house all to myself, the entire contents of the fridge, the balcony and sea view, the pool, and the keys to come and go as I please. Suddenly the possibilities opening up to me seemed vast and exciting, but it wasn't hard to decide the destination of my next trip: the Cinque Terre.

My initial plan was to visit only two of the terre; Vernazza and Monterosso. I was hoping the weather would be nice and I could spend the day lounging on the beach (because I haven't spent enough time on the beach in the last month) in between bits of exploring. But instead I woke up to a cloudy sky and strong winds - most probably karma for how happy I was to be left alone. So, I made a quick decision to instead visit all five of the lands and to hike my journey. Armed with walking boots and camera, I set off on my way.

As two hours went by and the train became increasingly filled with diverse languages and accents, I arrived in Riomaggiore, the furthest east of the Five Lands. Without much idea of where to go/what to do here, I got off the train and obediently followed the crowd in the hope they would take me to where I should be. A group of American tourists who seemed to be from the Deep South led me to the Marina, I inwardly thanked them as I marvelled at the beauty before me... Ah Bella Italia - she never fails to astound me. Just as I think I have seen her most beautiful lands and seas, there appears somewhere else to rival that splendor. Perhaps the result of the weather as well as the relative emptiness, the village has an irresistible eery feel about it. The sea is rough and the little boats in the bay struggle to hold on to the cobbly bank. The tall coloured buildings are dull and lacking the vibrancy of Camogli or Portofino, yet the peeling paint and imperfections only add to Riomaggiore's mysterious allure. I didn't know what to expect from the Cinque Terre, but my first taste of their charm in Riomaggiore surprises me, and so I am excited about what I will see next.

The next village, Manarola, is very similar to Riomaggiore, also placed on the sea. I walk up high above the marina and watch the waves crashing against the rocks, I eat focaccia al pesto and wander in and out of the few little shops.

Corniglia is in fact the only terre not on the sea. Instead it is tucked into the hillside and surrounded by vineyards producing the famous wines of the Cinque Terre. In the piazza the scents of delicious Italian food fill the air, and the little caruggi (typically Ligurian cobbled streets) weave around it like a maze.

The hike to Vernazza, the next terre, takes me past more vineyards, under olive grounds and reveals spectacular views of Corniglia and Manarola. And then as Vernazza comes into view you are astounded once more. From above the village is beautiful, a cluster of buildings nestled between land and sea. From within, the beauty is diminished somewhat by packs of tourists lingering in the streets. (Sometimes it's easy to forget that I am in fact one of those tourists, spoiling the Italian authenticity with my English accent and twenty-first century gadgets.) I am disappointed to be underwhelmed by Vernazza, after expecting it to be the most beautiful of the lands. I find it too difficult to see beyond the crowds and into the soul of the village, instead I see only an ever-commercialised tourist destination. Maybe the sun was the missing ingredient to my liking of this town...

My journey ends in Monterosso al Mare. I quickly realise that this village is made for the sun, and with the lack of it I spend little time there. The beach is a long, pebbly stretch lined with empty bars and even emptier sunbeds. The little town centre is pleasant enough, but there is nothing to draw me in, nothing I haven't seen before in Liguria. Before I disregard Monterosso entirely, I did have an excellent ice cream and hope to return one day when the sun is shining.

My lasting memory of the Cinque Terre will always lie with the eery marina of Riomaggiore and the surrounding vineyards of Corniglia, and then the crashing waves and highly-defined grey clouds which altered my visit there and distorted my opinion of the terre. I wander how different my trip would have been in the light of the sun.

From Liguria, With Love

My time in Liguria is almost up, and whilst I am looking forward to a new adventure in Bologna, there are so many things that I will miss about this beautiful region; from waking up to stunning seaviews to eating the delicious trofie al pesto which just isn't the same in any other region. Here are the 10 things that I will miss most about Liguria...

1. The sparkling sea 

Everywhere I go in Liguria the sea sparkles. Always sparkling. And there are many different seas in Liguria; but whether it be the deep blue ocean of Portofino, the clear and crisp waters of Varigotti or the crashing waves I met in Vernazza, the sea never fails to sparkle. I wake up and eat breakfast looking over the morning sea, and then watch the sun go down as it becomes orange and red with the changing sky. Being in Liguria for this short amount of time has made me realise that I would like to live by the sea one day...

2. Foccaccia

 

When I first ate foccaccia in Liguria I was confused as to what this strange bread was. Surely this cannot be foccaccia, so different to the springy, greasy bread we call foccaccia in England...? But foccaccia is a speciality of Liguria so I can hardly argue with them. Here it is crispy, golden and delicious. It is served in bread baskets in restaurants, eaten on the streets out of paper bags and even enjoyed at breakfast, dipped in milky coffee. From every foccaccieria or panificio in Liguria, the scents of this special bread fill the surrounding cobbled streets, tempting Ligurians and tourists at all hours of the day. I am told that foccaccia is not the same anywhere else in Italy - heartbroken I tell you!

3. Caruggi

 

Caruggi are the little cobbled streets which I came across all over the region, from the city of Genova to the tiny village of Corniglia. I love wandering down these little alleyways - beneath talls buildings, hanging washing and flower baskets - and not knowing what would be at the other end. I love that the only light comes from open windows and the slither of sky far above. I love walking down the cobbles and glancing left and right into the open doors; bakeries, giftshops, homes. Containing hidden corners and secrets, Liguria's caruggi are full of charm.

4. Pesto

 

When I sat down for my first meal here in Italy - daunted and slightly lost within all the Italian-ness - I was served trofie al pesto; little twists of fresh pasta with the homemade pesto that the children's nonno grows in his garden. I eat pesto a lot in England. In fact, the fridge of our old London flat was full of half-empty jars of green pesto that we'd lost track of and forgotten over time. But pesto alla genovese is something entirely different. The freshness of the basil, wholeness of the pine-nuts and almost sweet flavour of the Parmigiano combine to make this deliciously slimy paste - not exactly beautiful to look at, but my tastebuds enjoy it tremendously!

5. Coloured buildings

 

Lining the shores of every seaside town in Liguria is a cluster of tall, coloured buildings. Red, orange and yellow facades with green window shutters and wrought-iron balconies. Tiny fishing ports with an array of colour dotted on the hillside above. Often the paint is peeling and the buildings are not quite so grand, but I have come to love every one of these vividly meditteranean buildings; perfect for all their imperfections and Italianess.

6. Foccaccia al formaggio

 

I have already rambled about foccaccia for quite some time, but oh you must try foccaccia al formaggio! I would book a flight all the way to Italy just for the crispy, creamy, deliciousness. Okay maybe I'm exaggerating a little... The first time I ate foccaccia al formaggio it was homemade and cooked in the brick pizza oven outside. Claudia made it with stracchino (a cheese similar to Mozzarella) and I ate it still too hot from the oven (couldn't wait for it to cool...) as the cheese melted out of the thin, slightly crispy bread surrounding it. Since then I have sampled an array of the cheesy foccaccia from different panificios. Recco is the place to go for the original foccaccia al formaggio, but I'm almost certain you will be content with any Ligurian variation.

7. Camogli

 

Portofino, Santa Margherita, Corniglia, Vernazza, Varigotti, Monterosso... Of all the beautiful little seaside towns I visited, the simple fishing village of Camogli is my number one. Charming is the word that comes to mind when I think back to my trip there. And what I immediatly remember is standing on the pier, looking towards the sparkling water of the port with the vibrantly colourful buildings filling the hillside behind, then sitting hidden amongst the rocks reading beneath the beating sun, then eating ice cream whilst wandering along the promenade, then whizzing along the open sea to San Fruttuoso and being enchanted by the blue and calm of the water. Though its not quite as picture perfect as Portofino, or as lavish as Sestri Levante, Camogli was simple, charming and endlessly bellissimo.

8. Vespa

 

In Liguria I fell in love with the Vespa, and infinitely envy every person I see mounting their red, white or blue shiny Vespa, carrying a white helmet personalised with stickers, whizzing along the seafront with their shopping by their feet. My Vespa will be red or perhaps light blue with a wicker basket on the back and I'll zoom along the roads to wherever I feel like going like the Italians do.

 

9. Farinata

 

Another speciality of the region which you cannot leave without tasting! It looks almost like a giant pancake and is served at street stalls or markets, made right there in front of you and eaten piping hot. Farinata is made of three simple ingredients: chickpea flour, water and oil. It is the special flour which creates the distinct texture and flavour, and the way it is cooked in the big, fire ovens gives it a rustic essence.

10. Sunshine

Predictable maybe, but I couldn't exactly exclude the sun from this list. There has hardly been a day here in Liguria that the sun hasn't shone, and somehow everything looks ten times more beautiful with the sunlight and everyone is ten times more happy. Now I can go into Autumn completely satisified and suitably tanned. Thanks, Liguria!

Liguria is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places I have visited, and the more I saw of it the more I fell in love with the beautiful lanscapes, food and villages. Though I spent some time in the country, it is at the sea where I leave my heart. So arriverderci dear Liguria, but its goodbye only for now.

Everything sparkles: Santa Margherita & Portofino

Santa Margherita and Portofino are perhaps the most famous of the Italian Riviera towns, but for some reason were amongst my final destinations in Liguria. I was determinedly avoiding the most touristy of destinations thinking them to be somewhat overrated, or maybe it was all part of my attempt to see Italy as an Italian would. But it turns out that both Santa Margherita and Portofino are worth much more than an afterthought. I am defeated.

In Santa Margherita I fell in love with the sparkling water and the lavish port with all its luxury boats in an instant. Then delving further into town and I found the little piazza decorated with tall, ornamented buildings and a grand church which demands more than just a glance. From there the cobbles take you past Italian cafes and restaurants with sophisticated diners sipping coffee and eating cake, little green grocers with fresh fruit and vegetables spilling out of wooden baskets outside and the scent of the famous focaccia protruding from the open doors of bakeries. And then there is an array of shops selling shoes, bikinis and designer clothes. Add to all of this the palm tries lining the promenade and wealthy Italians dressed all in white (because this is apparently what you do if you are Italian and rich) and there you have Santa Margherita.

Wearing neon orange flip flops, with bright green nails painted by a seven year old and scraggly unbrushed hair it would have been easy to feel a little out of place in this sophisticated town, but with the relaxing September air I shrugged off the self-consciousness and spent hours wandering in and out of shops, around the port and along the seafront, eating lunch at the piazza and then sipping coffee on the port. Santa Margherita is not superficial, it is beautiful.

From sparkling Santa Margherita I took the bus along the seafront to Portofino. It is more than likely that you have heard of this place and would recognise the classic photo of the coloured buildings lining the edge of the port, but seeing it in real life is something quite special (without sounding too cliche...). It is a town undoubtedly full of tourists, where everybody steps off the bus and immediately grabs their cameras to capture every little corner of this charming little town. And I was not to be the exception, it is too beautiful not to. Yet despite the many tourists there is a definite feeling of seclusion here, of being far far away from beeping horns, illuminated lights and any sense of time. My favourite place in Portofino was near the church, a little walk up the hill. On one side there is the serene port with its little boats encased within the cliff faces, and on the other side there is the open sea, wide and endless with no restrictions. Almost like two different worlds, and me in the middle writing postcards home and eating melting ice-cream.

Everything sparkles in these two enchanting towns, I fell in love.

Al mare: Deiva Marina, Sestri Levante and Varigotti

In the last three days I have visited three different towns on the Italian Riviera. Each very different, but all beautiful in their own unique way...

Deiva Marina

It is Wednesday and should be my day off, but instead today I am building collapsing sand castles with 3 year olds and jumping through waves with enthusiastic 7 and 8 year olds.   It is not the seaside serenity that I might have encountered if I had been alone, but I I have decided to postpone my relaxing day off at the opportunity to explore a Riviera town: Deiva Marina. We have come here today to visit some friends of the family and spend the day away from the countryside (which is becoming ever-colder as the days go by). Claudia told me that the town at Deiva Marina is not very nice, but that the beach is beautiful. I agree with the first statement as we drive past old buildings lacking the usual rustic charm of Liguria. But as we spy the seaside I'm not sure whether I agree with the second. On first glance I see only a rough sea, pebbly beach and too many sunbeds and umbrellas cluttering the shore. But as the day goes by what I first disliked about the beach ends up being what I enjoy most; the waves provide endless fun for the kids, the pebbles are perfect to keep a 3 year old entertained (first we collect all the biggest pebbles we can find then we pretend they are food items whilst we play supermarkets) and all the sunbeds are full of Italians just enjoying the summer - and I can hardly complain about that!

Though I didn't find much physical beauty in Deiva Marina, we had a lovely day on the beach all the same.

Sestri Levanti

From simple Deiva Marina to lavish Sestri Levante... I had been wanting to visit this town after seeing it appear many a time on lists of places to go in the region, and so jumped at the chance to spend a few hours in Sestri whilst the family went to watch their dad play a tennis match. The first thing that struck me about Sestri was the number of vespas there were: lining the road all along the seafront, red, yellow, green, black, interspersed with palm trees and watched over by ostentatiously decorated 5* hotels and restaurants sitting smugly with their sea-views and delicious food. I followed the line of vespas along the seafront and then entered the back streets. Here there is a hustle of bikini-clad holidaymakers buying hand-crafted goods at the market, eating warm focaccia at one of the many panificios or else enjoying a creamy gelato and wandering in and out of shops. From the hustle of these little alleyways I find myself in the tranquility of the Baio di Silenzio (Bay of Silence). Here the water glistens, lapping gently on the sand, boats bob up and down not far in the distance and the only break in the serenity is the chiming of the church bells. 

In Sestri there are the narrow streets, tall, red and yellow buildings, wrought-iron balconies and colourful window-shutters that are so typical of Liguria, all combined with a pinch of luxury. I eat spaghetti ai frutti del mare for dinner and then walk along the seafront watching the water change colour with the setting sun.

My only negative of Sestri is how busy it was, but nevertheless it is a beautiful town.

Varigotti

Varigotti is in the opposite direction to the other Riviera towns I had visited, going west towards France until you are almost at the end of Liguria. The town is so quiet that when I got off the bus I spent perhaps half an hour unsure as to whether I was actually in the right place. Yes, all the signs say Varigotti and so do all the postcards, but where is everybody? It turns out that, with no other tourists to lead me in the right direction, I had walked the complete wrong way away from the little town centre. Therefore all I had seen was a series of different beaches and a few restaurants. After walking all the way back to the bus stop I found a little alley and saw a gelateria and a foccaccieria. Walking down this quaint cobbled street, almost deserted but for me and my camera, I found all the charm and serenity I could have hoped for from Varigotti. At the end you come to the pier, and from there you see Varigotti for all it's beauty: calm sea, tranquil beaches and colourful buildings - and now I see all the people, relaxing on the shores.

My day in Varigotti was simple and serene, like the town itself. I ate ravioli ai gamberi then spent the day between the sand and the sea: perhaps the most calm, warm, clear sea I had ever encountered. Lying on my beach towel, the sun beating down, Ben Howard setting the background music: things don't get much better. Varigotti was the perfect escape from the loud, demanding life of an au pair.