Day 2: Arrival in Vernazza

We arrived in Vernazza late afternoon after a long train ride west across the top of Italy. I need to tell a story here. Jared had booked a room in someone's home and had called her from Venice to let her know we were coming. She said she would meet us at the train station. When we arrived at the tiny train station in Vernazza (a town of little over 1,000 people) and looked around for our hostess. After about fifteen minutes of wandering around the station, looking very American and very lost, we decided to try to find the home on our own. We hiked up a steep, narrow, meandering alley and knocked on a door that looked like it hadn't been opened for about twenty years. No answer. So we walked down the main street. There on a bench sat three elderly Italian ladies chatting away. When we passed, one of them jumped up and looked straight at us shouting "Room! Room!" I said, "Are you looking for Jared?" "Si, si," she replied, beckoning us over to her. Later, I discovered that "room" was one of about three English words she knew. We followed her up another very steep, winding walkway (Vernazza is built on a hill overlooking the sea) to the house of her friend who had one room for rent. After friendly greetings, we began negotiating a price, which I found strange as Jared supposedly already had done this. We settled on a price (my three months of Italian came in very handy here!) and got comfortable. Jared had some nagging doubts. Was this the right woman? Wasn't her name Barbara? Things didn't exactly add up. On our last day when it was time to settle the bill, I spoke with the woman who showed us the room. "Do you know Barbara?" I asked in Italian. She looked confused and shook her head. She told me there was a Barbara in town who also rented rooms. So. Our suspicions were confirmed. As we were looking for the woman with whom we originally negotiated, a complete stranger jumped up and hooked us into renting a room. Later, Jared got a strongly worded email from Barbara's friend wondering where we went. She had waited at the train station for an hour and we never showed up! Sorry, Babs!

Our first view of Vernazza.

A typical street in Vernazza. No autos allowed. They wouldn't fit anyway.

This is the street that led up to our room. Our mystery hostess climbs this every day.

The next day can be found here.