I accidentally stumbled upon the congregation of the Cinque Terre villages back in 2018 whilst searching for a new adventure easily reachable from the UK. I longed for the enchantment of the morning sun illuminating the colourful buildings perched high above the turquoise waters of the Ligurian Sea.

Once the peak of the spring became apparent, I decided to return once again to this wonder on the coast of the Italian Riviera. After a short flight, I landed at the Pisa Airport – a two-hour long train ride away from my marvellous destination. I veered away from the bustling crowds and was keen to soak up all the sun available and planned my accommodation in Levanto, a short journey away from all points of interest.

I began my day towards the first of the villages at sunrise and opted for the charming town of Riomaggiore, the first of the five picturesque destinations that make up this UNESCO World Heritage Site. Upon arrival, the narrow cobblestone streets remained empty of tourists during this early time of the day whilst the sweet scent of freshly baked focaccia mixed with the melodic chatter of locals going about their day gave me an insight into the Italian way of life.

From terraced vineyards cascading down the cliffs to secluded coves where the sea lapped aggressively, Riomaggiore is renowned for its dramatic ascension, almost inaccessible to some visitors because of its physical challenge. After I refuelled for the day and delighted my taste buds with the most delicious cuisine, I found my way towards the famous Sentiero Azzurro, also known as the Blue Trails amongst the English-speaking visitors – a hike towards breath-taking views of the coastline. With each twist and turn of the trail, a new vista more stunning than the last unfolded before my eyes.

As the sun intensified, and driven by thirst and hunger, l arrived in Manatela the second of the five wonders, keen to explore more of the regional cuisine. As I left the wooden chair of the family-run restaurant where I remained sat longer than intended enjoying the delicacies, l intended to discover the village’s traditional cultural heritage, effortlessly displayed outside well-shaded stalls, burrowed under buildings painted with vibrant shades of yellow and orange.

I stepped away from the pushing crowds towards the rocky shoreline where I submerged with the horizon as I watched the fishermen sail out to sea in their traditional wooden boats, their laughter reaching me on the salty Mediterranean breeze. 

I departed from my exhilaration and I was involuntarily brought back to my senses once I approached the station where the loud announcement for the arrival of next train towards Corniglia prompted the crammed crowed to move across the platforms in search of the departing carriage.

I chose to stand facing the coast as the train emerged from the tunnel to ensure that I could witness once again that premature glimpse of the shoreline. A sense of familiarity immediately flowed through my veins and my subconscious took over my feet as they guided me to ascend the steep stone steps that led to the town of Corniglia, perched high on a promontory.

In search of the most prominent panoramic viewpoint, I followed the keen hikers through the towns’ ascending paths and I found a spot from to gaze out at the azure expanse of the Mediterranean, navigating an overwhelming feeling of freedom and exhilaration as the sun burned my already golden skin.

Afterwards, I made my way to Vernazza, the smallest but perhaps the most charming of the five villages, with its bustling piazzas and lively waterfront. I took the path towards my favourite restaurant, strategically perched up high above the rocks where the sound of the agitated waves crashing intensely covered the loudness of the human presence.

Sipping on a carefully crafted cup of cappuccino, I watched as the children played and listened to the elderly locals exchange gossip in the shade of lemon trees. As I felt the palpable community and tradition, weaving a tapestry of connection that transcended barriers of language and culture, I knew it was time to rush towards the final grandiose experience for the day. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, I approach Monterosso al Mare, the final village of the Cinque Terre site.

Almost hypnotically, I departed from witnessing the golden light of the setting sun, bathing the town in a warm glow and the cliffs and rooftops in hues of amber towards the rocky beach. Challenged in finding a comfortable spot, I sat to listen to the gentle lull of the waves and watched the profuse ball of fire submerge under the distant sea. Reflecting upon my return to Cinque Terre, I acknowledged that this magical corner of the world impacted my state of mind and perception of existence unlike ever before.

This western part of the Italian Riviera is a place where time seems to slow down and where the simple pleasures of good food, good company and natural beauty prevail. As I boarded my plane to return to a rainy Manchester, I longed to remain in this place where the brightness of the colours and the sweetness of the air will linger in my memory like the echo of a distant wave on the shore.