Cinque Terre: A Vacation Inside a Vacation

Without the slightest provocation or warning Father blasted the door open and began galumphing trough the hotel suite-triumphantly waddling from bed to cot quacking vague commands hooked to shouts of encouragement. C'mon! Up and at 'em! Let's get cracking! Father has no patience for jet-lag, for peaceful dreams, for lazy vacations. He paid good cash for this trip to Europe, and so help him, he's going to get his money's worth.

Confidently donning an American?-You bet your eye, I am! ensemble, replete with hip-pack and Vivela visor, Father shakes and wakes-ruffles his sleepy-eyed contingent into wobbly lines and then it's out-the-door! Humming a merry tune and swinging his arms wildly-as though hacking through the underbrush-Father stampedes towards any and all forming lines of attraction: Museums, cathedrals, statues, souvenir stands; give it a name and a line and Father blazes a trail there, kow-towing family in tow. Boy, who knew vacation was such hard work?

But, if you've tired of bumbling and bee-lining through Europe's more established coddles of culture, perhaps the time has come to hoof it down to Cinque Terre-five snuggly-nestled hamlets on Italy's Riviera-for a vacation inside of that larger, more taxing one. So, pop two sedatives in Dad's seltzer water and hide that pesky itinerary. Trust me, he'll thank you when he comes to.

To many tourists, the word Riviera ordinarily implies gaggles of snooty Frenchmen upturning their noses and carelessly careening down one-way cobblestone paths, wildly gesticulating the whole time-the unmentionable driving the unfixable. But can Cannes. The Italian Riviera offers travelers the selfsame breathtaking scenery as its neighbor to the west, with a dash more serenity and a side of affordability.

Long cloistered between theMediterranean Seaand soaring cliffs, the five sleepy towns of Cinque Terre (Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore) are internationally renowned for century old, laboriously-terraced cliffs teeming with vineyards, lemon orchards, and olive groves. Recently recognized as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, Cinque Terre, despite rising numbers of tourists, remains off the beaten path of Euro-trippers. Blame the impervious rocky bluffs, which ward off automotive traffic, for this serendipitous turn of events.

Getting yourself to Cinque Terre is hardly hard, though. It's getting yourself away that proves much more difficult. Trains-the Italian word for late-routinely burrow through tunnels into Monterosso al Mare, the largest of the five towns. A stone's throw from the train station, the tourism office will happily refer off-the-cuff travelers to a reasonably-priced pension (25 euros a night) where one can wind-up unwinding in a hospitable and comfortable room; if more accommodating accommodations are desired, phone ahead to make reservations-Cinque Terre abounds with swanky suites.

While surveys conclude Cinque Terre's most popular activity to be lazing by the beach-gorging oneself on regional cuisine and sluicing down bottles of indigenous white wine-a distant second is hiking along the rugged, picturesque coastland. An eight-mile trek, the scenic path worms you through lemon copses and carefully tended vines, connecting the five hamlets together. Though the hike will leave you short of breath, the views from atop the precipitous bluffs are simply breathtaking. It's not often I claim an eight-mile hike to be worth the effort, but in this case it is so.

Traveling the beaten path has its perks-majestic landmarks, cultural icons, fascinating museums, etc-but also a certain lack of authenticity, of immersion into a culture. In remote towns akin to Cinque Terre, museums inhabit the sprawling vistas; culture turns up under corks and melted provolone. So, filch dad's day planner, spike his drink, and find yourself snaking through the charming terrain of Cinque Terre. Did I say two sedatives? Better make it three.