Italy: One too many people
Several years ago I recall seeing a photo of a small village with colorful houses embedded in the cliffs along a sea coast. I remember thinking it was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen a photo of, and wishing to be there some day, without truly expecting it would happen, kind of like wishing Mexico wins a World Cup, I really want it to happen, but chances are slim.
Back then I didn’t know what or where Cinque Terre was, or that it was even called that way, let alone that it was not one village, but it referred to 5 of them and their surrounding area. Fast forward to present day and I’m riding my motorcycle through the southern end of the Alps between France and Italy, aiming to reach Levanto which would serve as base camp while I hike the footpaths connecting these 5 lands. What do you know, maybe Mexico will win a World Cup.
What that photo I saw of Cinque Terre didn’t show, was the vast number of people visiting! In order to beat the crowds, I decided to begin hiking early the morning after my arrival in Levanto and parted towards Monterosso al Mare, the first village, at 6am. I had the entire trail just for myself, in part due to the hour, but also Levanto is not technically one of the 5 villages, so not many people hike that section. That being said though, it was my favorite one, and I also had Punta Mesco all alone, which is a piece of land from which all 5 villages can be seen. This hike, mostly uphill, was parallel to the coast of the Ligurian sea, winding in between bushes, trees, rocks, and one panoramic view after another.
By the time I began hiking from Monterosso to Vernazza, the second village, hours had gone by and the thousands of other visitors were eager to start their hike as well, despite the rainy forecast. I found myself moving slowly behind other hikers, trying to over take them when possible; the foot path was often wide enough for only one person to go at a time. There are other trails that go inland for a bit, up into the hills, that are far less travelled. Generally these are said to be more difficult, and seeing how I was having trouble catching my breath with the so called easy trail, I decided to stick with it. One month of travel and scarce exercise were quite evident at this point.
My favorite village was Riomaggiore. Although not the smallest, it was cozy enough, and the picturesque harbor, with red and yellow buildings encrusted into the shoreline, had fewer people and allowed for a calm swim. I was glad I visited Cinque Terre, if there’s anything I would change it would be the number of visitors there, however, seeing places like Rome on my itinerary for the next week, I should get used to it.
Before heading to the Italian capital, I visited beautiful Florence, a city with a center full of mysticism and magic in every corner. I’m not someone who visits museums, and although Florence has quite a few important ones, it also has much more to enjoy. From the aweing Santa Maria del Fiore cathedral, to taking a nap at the Boboli gardens, to amazing sunsets overlooking the city at the Piazzale Michelangelo while drinking a glass of wine. Even if one did get tired of the city, the surrounding Tuscan mountains have excellent trails to hike and roads for a pleasant motorcycle ride, offering completely different views than those in the city.
One of the nights, after finishing my beer at a bar with live music, I decided to walk back to my hostel, which was close by. However, it took me over an hour because I frequently stopped to admire a building, a street, a monument, or one of the musicians playing at the turn of every corner. At one of these monuments, I paused to listen to a man playing a cello. He, like all other musicians playing that night, had a crowd gathered around, sitting on the steps to one of the buildings or standing, drinking wine or eating gelato, applauding each time the man paused his music.
Florence had such an atmosphere of tranquility and beauty, that it didn’t bother me to be surrounded by so many other visitors. Somehow, it didn’t matter here, I even enjoyed it. The number of people here was part of what made this place so exceptional.
Such would not be the case in Rome. After half a day of riding, I arrived in Rome with enough time to squeeze in a visit to the Vatican. Now, as I said, I’m not much of a museum kind of person. The Vatican has quite a few museums. I followed the masses, skimming over some of these museums and eventually made it to the Sistine Chapel. I found a spot to sit and gazed at the artwork, the frescoes, on the ceiling and walls. While listening to security announce “Silence! No photos, no video. Silence!” every five minutes, I simulataneously listened to the audios available about the chapel and was able to appreciate it a bit more.
Someone who is truly passionate about artwork and museums might read this and be silently cursing me. Similar to the way I would be if someone uninterested in football fell asleep during a Barcelona vs Real Madrid game at the Camp Nou (which I got to attend last week).
I found to be more wondered by the mega structure of the Colosseum. Standing there, looking down at the arena, just imagining what is was like during its apogee, which we all have a broad idea of.
I was similarly excited, but, for a different reason, that I was able to attend the last home game of the city’s football team, AS Roma. Watching any of their matches would have sufficed, but I had the opportunity to attend their last home game, against one of the best teams not only in Italy, but the world, Juventus, who could secure the league’s championship with a draw that night.
I was overwhelmed by the way the fans inconditionally supported their team, effusively chanting and applauding, despite knowing the team has not won a title in a long time. After a draw with no goals, and with it, Juventus winning the championship, again, the Roma players walked around the field saluting the fans who, in return, applaued and shouted in sign of respect and support.
By attending this game, I was able to see a part of the city that not every visitor does, I chatted and spent time with true local people who see Rome as home, and not as a travel destination. I was able to see more of this during the next few days, walking with little direction through the city, bumping into beautiful gardens and, oddly enough, dirty city streets; Rome, like a few other European cities I’ve seen thus far, has a garbage problem. The containers are overflowing with trash and the streets with cigarette butts.
When I was in college, I had to take a foreign language class. I could have taken the easy way out and chosen spanish, but I opted for the second easiest, italian, and actually took a full year of it. Ten years later, I get to put into practice what I learned, I was surprised to remember so much and also by how many words I made up or said in spanish with an Italian accent hoping to be understood. At first, people would reply in broken down english, they probably thought my italian was so bad that their english was better. Nevertheless, as I became more comfortable, I was able to have full conversations with natives that understood no english, I ordered my food in italian, I spoke to the person at the laundromat in italian, I spoke as much of it as I could, most of the time, asking others to speak slow enough for me to understand.
As much as I prefer to visit places that are not as crowded as Rome, would I deliberately skip any of them? Ironically, I doubt I would. On my way out of Italy was Venice, bound to have multitudes, would I purposefully keep riding without stopping there? If I did, then I would forever wonder what Venice is like. I can imagine what it is, but do I want others telling me or do I want to know for myself? I booked two nights at a campground just outside of Venice.
It’s eight in the morning and I’m aimlessly wandering through the center of Venice, walking along one canal, then across it over a small bridge to another island, and down a narrow alley that seems to lead nowhere, but… yeap, that one was actually a deadend, but many others openned up to a square, a church, or a broader street. I feel good about this, there is a big number of visitors, but not overwhelmingly, I might actually enjoy this.
After walking around St. Mark’s square I stop at a small eatery and had a breakfast panini. It was probably close to 10am when I began exploring again and now, the number of people in Venice had multiplied! I had celebrated too early. Despite my initial urge to flee, I met with a donation-based walking tour group at the San Simeone church footsteps. This tour promised to be different and take us to uncrowded places of Venice. I didn’t think this was possible, but I liked the sound of it. Sure enough, the guide took us on a less traveled historical tour of the city and explored places such as the Venetian Ghetto, the church of Madonna dell’Orto and others.
After a couple hours of walking, and a delicious fish risotto, I decided it was time to go back to camp, and rest, for tomorrow I would continue this path east into Slovenia, where the promise of diminished crowds fed my motivation.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy battling through streets full of people, swerving around slower walkers, dodging people’s coughs and sneezes, and occasionally bumping an oncoming shoulder all while under the beating sun. I simply prefer different atmospheres. That’s not to say that, where I see the torment I just described, other travelers find their niche, they enjoy busy surroundings; beyond affecting them, they seek them out, and that’s okay. There are many different types of travelers, and it matters little which type you are, as long as you get what you’re looking to accomplish through travel.