After our 12 hour, 15 mile, hiking endeavor, Zach and I promised each other that the remainder of our trip would not be overly demanding. With that promise came daily doses of gelato, generous amounts of wine, and many hours spent laying out beneath the powerful Mediterranean sun, which, had not been too kind to my western European pastiness. The night that we returned home from Cinque Terre, my skin began to radiate a stinging, bright pink that turned into an even deeper shade of painful red as I tossed and turned in the contrasting white sheets. Most sun burns I’ve had have faded within 24 hours, this one was different. I peeled for a solid week. The following morning, we went straight to the pharmacy and made a steep 18 euro purchase on SPF 50 sunscreen, a big step up from my SPF 4.. That next day, as we relaxed on the shores of Manarola a second time, I tried to keep my shoulders and back covered with towels, shirts, whatever worked. Diving into the Mediterranean with Zach was the only refuge my skin could temporarily find, soothed by the cool, clear, sparkling liquid. We decided to swim over to a little cove that we spotted from above, which included several large tidal pools with lots of marine life. I was a timid, crawling over the jagged, seemingly volcanic rock with my virgin feet. Zach went ahead of me, holding his hand out as always. I placed my feet where he told me to, and then plopped into the perfect pool on the other side. It felt as though I was swimming in an aquarium display- colorful fish, lush varieties of marine fauna, and pearly white sand covering the bottom a few feet below. As I cut my hand through the mirror like surface, I couldn’t help but wonder if this really was a dream.
On the way out, Zach jabbed his toe right into the needle of a black sea urchin that was sticking to a rock. It drew a little blood, but he’s lucky that it’s probably not like the kind you might find where he’s from, in Australia. I jumped off the top of the little rock on the other side of the tidal pool, feeling adventurous and free. A few moments later, I watched nervously as Zach climbed to the top of a rock that had to be over two stories tall, boys and girls backing out last minute in line behind him. He waved to me before he jumped off, I wanted to close my eyes, but I watched his body splash through the water a few seconds later. I was overjoyed when he popped his head up through the surface, a smile big enough for me to see from many feet above. His free spirit and radical love for adventure were two of the main reasons I fell for him in the first place, now, my admiration for him has grown by leaps and bounds. I couldn’t be happier accompanying him on journeys and adventures, even if it
meant that I had to be the camera girl because I’m too chicken to jump off giant rocks.
The remainder of our time in the Liguria region was perfect. We spent hours by the water, lazing in the sun on slanted rocks, swimming happily through the sea, watching sunsets until almost 10pm, eating fresh basil and olives, and losing ourselves in conversations about a montage of the deepest topics. As the sun rose again upon La Spezia, Zach and I packed up our things and admired our perfect little Italian apartment once more. We lugged our bags back up the hill towards the La Spezia Centrale train station, peeking over our shoulders for one more goodbye as the golden sun highlighted the streets of the rugged little town. I would very much miss the beautiful Italian coast, but I was also super excited for our next destinations: Pisa, and Florence.
PISA
No surprise, our train was delayed upon arrival into Pisa. However, we made the best of our time as we always do, playing games of Uno and telling each other corny, punny jokes. I was happy to finally have some gnocchi, which for some reason was hard to come by in La Spezia. Zach had tortellini, both our dishes absolutely drenched in creamy cheese. There wasn’t too much to be seen in Pisa, as I’ve heard from many other tourists, but the famous leaning tower itself was pretty cool to see. It’s name is appropriate because it really is leaning more than I thought. Zach and I decided to take a break before our next train to Florence, so we laid out on the lawn of the leaning tower, against an ancient looking wall. We drank Birra Moretti's and snacked on olives and fruit left over from the La Spezia marketplace, then dozed off in the shade of the towering wall. When I opened my eyes again, I noticed a tiny, bright white object sticking out of a crevice in the stones of the wall. I shifted upward and reached for it, to find that it was a little square of paper with Italian scribbled on it. Curious of what it said, I hung on to it to translate later on.
