Italy Has More to Offer than Hilltop Towns and Great Cities

By Daren & Esterina Anderson.

This week Daren and I are both contributing a little something to the Travelouge.

Pinch Me

by Esterina

Yesterday morning was Saturday. Even though we’re no longer working a traditional schedule, we’re still living by—and honoring (and honestly loving)—the rhythm of weekdays and weekends. Daren was making breakfast while I was cutting up fruit when I noticed we had quite a few oranges. On a whim, I squeezed a few and made fresh orange juice. Back home, we’d occasionally have extra oranges, and I’d always think about doing something like that, but it somehow felt like there was never enough time.

It took all of a few minutes. Standing there, I found myself wondering why we hadn’t lived like this before. And then I had one of those “pinch me” moments—realizing once again that I’m living a life I always wanted to live.

This week was full of those moments! We took a short midweek trip to see the lentil flower fields in bloom. Daren will share more about that below, but I want to say how deeply lucky and grateful I felt.

First, because there are so many fewer crowds during the week, and our schedules now allow us to take advantage of that. Second, because we live close enough to experience places like this without needing a major trip. But most importantly, because our lives are so much less hectic now, I am far more present and aware while we’re actually living these moments.

The places we saw this week were breathtaking—fields of flowers stretching beneath mountains that made me feel small and humble in the most beautiful way. Simple lunches. Healthy breakfasts. Enough sleep every night. I’ve never felt healthier or more blessed.

As we navigate this year, we’ve been doing a lot of spiritual reading and having long conversations about how we want to spend the next phase of our lives. I think we both sensed that we needed to step away from our old lives for a while in order to better understand how to become the best versions of ourselves—and how to leave the world a little better than we found it.

Our conversations can range from grand ideas—like giving up every worldly possession and embracing a Francis of Assisi path—to quieter ones, like the life of Dorothea in Middlemarch, where unsung goodness, ordinary kindness, and simple acts of love become their own meaningful legacy.

What I know for certain is this: I want to hold onto beauty, presence, and these little “pinch me” moments. They remind me that I’m living a purposeful life—one where even something as simple as an extra orange doesn’t go to waste, but instead becomes part of the beauty of an ordinary morning.

Take my breath away:

by Daren

I think we both needed to be pinched as we beheld for the first time the Piana di Castelluccio (Plain of Castelluccio). We stood in silence for a moment, staring out over stunning landscape unlike anything we had seen before in Italy. This Italian adventure has been filled with so many stunning and memorable sights, but our trip to the Piana was something different. Much of the grandeur of Italy comes from a blending of natural and human achievement: a walled city perched high above a green valley dotted with cypress trees, or a small town clinging to a ledge overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The Altopiano was all about nature—a place high above the tree line in the central mountains of the Apennines, where rugged rocky outcroppings and miles of flat green plains meet an endless blue sky.

Yet even here, people have left their mark on the landscape. As we descended from the mountain pass onto the plain, we first noticed a distant sheen of yellow, followed by patches of blue and red. As we got closer, we could see clearly demarcated fields forming a patchwork of colors, almost like a quilt. These were the famed lentil fields of the high plain, and we had arrived just as the flowers were beginning to bloom.

Before this trip, I knew very little about where lentils come from and had no idea the plants produced such delicate flowers. These tiny blooms, spread across thousands of acres of the Piana, create a natural spectacle that relatively few people outside Italy know about. I learned of them through my Coffee Break Italian podcast. One of the early lessons featured an Italian teacher describing the lentil blooms of this little-known region, and I added it to my mental list of places to visit. Since the blooms are at their peak in June and early July, we decided this was the perfect time to see them for ourselves.

We learned that the nearby town of Norcia would make a good base and set out for a two-day visit. Norcia is only about three and a half hours from our home in Gaville, and we stopped in Spoleto along the way after hearing it was worth a visit. We had a sandwich in the piazza overlooking the cathedral and wandered the old streets for a while, but the town felt dreary and dead. Perhaps we caught it on an off day, but it felt tired. The truly terrible sandwiches didn’t help. We moved on.

Norcia, where we stayed for two nights, was a different story entirely. It sits near the geographic center of Italy, where Umbria, Abruzzo, and Le Marche come together. Many Italian towns are famous for a particular product: Modena for balsamic vinegar, Genoa for pesto, Parma for Parmesan cheese, and Norcia, as we soon learned, for norcineria—the art of producing cured meats. Prosciutto di Norcia and a host of other types of cured meat, are considered among the finest in Italy.

We also learned that Norcia was devastated by a major earthquake in 2016, and nearly ten years later the city remains an enormous construction site. Much of it has been lovingly restored, including the cathedral, city walls, gates, and main street. Yet many buildings remain wrapped in scaffolding, and piles of rubble and vacant lots still mark places where structures once stood, a reminder of the destruction that transformed this beautiful town.

Despite the construction, Norcia felt vibrant and welcoming. Perhaps it was the reconstruction effort itself, but the town seemed full of energy and optimism. The main piazza shone brightly with white stone buildings, and there were very few tourists. Every other storefront seemed to be a norcineria, selling cured meats, truffle products, and local pecorino cheese. Beyond a handful of restaurants and cafés there wasn’t much else, but it proved to be the perfect base for exploring the region.

We stayed in a lovely hotel right in the center of town, home to the Michelin-starred restaurant Vespasia, where we enjoyed—one of us more than the other—a multi-course tasting menu. These dinners are designed to unfold slowly, with each course presenting a creative combination of flavors, textures, and colors. Since dinner starts late in Italy, we ate well into the evening and bumped against our usual bedtime, leaving us tired and stuffed—a poor combination for a good night’s sleep. The bill took our breath away, and by the end of the evening I think we both concluded that Michelin-starred dining is not for us, especially if dinner begins at eight o’clock at night.

The next morning we packed a picnic of fruit, cheese, bread, olives, yogurt, and local cured meats and headed for the Piana di Castelluccio. The road wound back and forth into the mountains outside Norcia. It felt as though we were ascending into the sky. Then, as the road bent sharply north, the entire Piana suddenly unfolded before us. The landscape seemed impossibly vast: green plains stretching to the horizon, framed by steep mountain walls and an endless blue sky. We were above the tree line, and all we could see were green fields extending for miles in every direction.

As we descended onto the plain, we began noticing well-marked walking trails inviting visitors out into the fields. Koji was extremely enthusiastic about this idea, so we parked the car and started walking. Over the course of the morning, we stopped in several locations to explore the fields and admire the wildflowers in full bloom. At one point, I experienced a moment of genuine, spiritual awe. Standing alone in a field of blue, red, purple, and yellow flowers, I suddenly found myself surrounded by pale blue moths with spotted wings fluttering around me. Several landed gently on my shoes and pant legs. The soft colors of the flowers and the moths added flashes of color to the green canvas of the plain, creating an impression I will not soon forget.

Far in the distance we could see a town perched on a hill overlooking the plain. This was Castelluccio, the center of lentil farming in the area. As we approached, it became apparent that much of the town remained in ruins. Castelluccio had been devastated by the same earthquake that struck Norcia, and reconstruction here appears to be progressing much more slowly. The residents have created a temporary village just outside the historic town consisting of cafés, norcineria, and small farm stands selling lentils and other local products, including one of the best pecorino cheeses I have tasted in Italy. We stopped for coffee and a snack before taking one final walk onto the plain.

From a distance, the landscape around the town appears as a patchwork of colored fields. Some are pale yellow, while others appear purple, white, blue, or red. As we got closer, we could see the flowers responsible for these different palettes. Some fields were planted with lentils, while others were filled with wildflowers in bloom. The lentil flowers created subtle washes of yellow when viewed across great distances. Other fields were dominated by brilliant blue cornflowers mixed with red poppies. Some parcels were left fallow. Viewed from afar, the entire plain resembled a giant quilt stitched together from green, yellow, blue, and red fabric.

We enjoyed our picnic just off the road overlooking the fields before continuing to Forca di Presta, a high mountain pass just across the border in the region of Le Marche. Beyond the pass, the landscape changed again. High craggy peaks gave way to steep valleys, and the region of Le Marche stretched before us toward the Adriatic Sea in the east.

There was also a street food vendor selling stuffed olives, a specialty of Le Marche that we had first learned about from Stanley Tucci’s television series on Italian food and regional culture—a show I highly recommend. Naturally, we had to try them. They did not disappoint.

As we were enjoying the olives, a large flock of sheep passed by under the supervision of a shepherd and three sheepdogs, their bells clanging softly in the mountain air. Koji got to discuss work with one of the dogs and learn about life as an Italian working dog. Actually, they mostly sniffed each other for a few seconds and then moved on.

We spent nearly the entire day walking through fields, with Koji running happily ahead and the two of us simply enjoying the colors, the vistas, and the pure mountain air. Our eyes constantly shifted between distant beauty and close-up beauty: towering mountains, blue skies, and endless plains on one hand; delicate wildflowers and colorful moths on the other.

Back in Norcia, we enjoyed a light dinner and a good night’s sleep before heading home the next morning. This journey felt different from many of our previous Italian adventures. There were no great museums, famous churches, or remarkable works of architecture. Instead, the memories we carried home were of open space, wildflowers, mountain air, and a landscape that seemed almost impossibly vast. As we plan our upcoming trip to the Italian Alps, we are hoping for more moments like this—places that remind us how much beauty exists beyond Italy’s celebrated cities and towns.

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To see a short video of this trip, check it out on YouTube here: https://youtu.be/HPgJvQzDDU4?feature=shared

Reflections on Cinque Terre and an Unexpected Find

by Daren Anderson

There is a place in Italy where mountains plunge straight into the sea and colorful villages cling to cliffs and tiny coves along the shoreline. Houses painted in shades of yellow, orange, and ochre cling to cliffs over the water. Above them, terraced vineyards and olive groves produce crisp local white wines and flavorful olive oil. There are five towns in all—Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare. Together they comprise Cinque Terre (Five Lands), one of the most stunning and scenic places in Italy. If you’ve ever seen a screensaver or postcard featuring a picturesque Italian seaside village, chances are it was depicting one of these five special towns.

Hoping to see Cinque Terre before summer tourist season was in full swing, we headed to Liguria, the coastal region we have come to love. Here you’ll find the fabled Italian Riviera, the great port city of Genoa (the birthplace of Christopher Columbus) and, of course, Cinque Terre.

The towns of Cinque Terre were, in days past, reachable only by water, leaving them isolated and heavily dependent on the sea for food and transportation. Today, a train line runs straight through the mountains and emerges at a station in each of the five towns, making a visit remarkably convenient. Travelers can easily move from town to town by train or arrive from one of the many nearby cities and villages outside the region.

In addition, a well-maintained network of hiking trails connects the towns and provides an opportunity to walk along the cliffs, through terraced vineyards and olive groves, and enjoy spectacular views of the Mediterranean. These trails are not for the faint of heart or the out of shape. The climbs can be strenuous, although the paths are in excellent condition and exceptionally well-marked.

While we failed spectacularly in our effort to avoid tourists, we were nonetheless completely enchanted by the beauty of the towns and the magic of this special part of Italy. In a year filled with superlatives, Cinque Terre stands out as one of the very best places we have visited, and perhaps our favorite so far.

To experience Cinque Terre, we chose to stay a few miles north of the region in the seaside town of Chiavari. The five towns themselves offer limited and often expensive hotel options. In retrospect, I think we would enjoy staying in one of the villages for a few nights, allowing us to experience the early mornings and evenings before and after the day-tripper crowds descend.

On our first day, we took the train from Chiavari to the southernmost town, Riomaggiore. Koji joined us, and we planned to walk from there to Manarola, having learned that this route was the shortest and easiest. Koji is feeling his years and is probably no longer up for a difficult hike involving steep climbs in the hot sun.

Fortunately for all of us, the path connecting these two towns, known as the Via dell’Amore (Way of Love), was not really a hike at all but rather a beautifully paved walkway high above the sea, offering incredible views without any significant climbing. The sea was rough, and waves exploded against the rocks below us, sending plumes of spray into the air. The constant roar of the surf added to the unforgettable vista and provided some of the best photographs of the trip.

We enjoyed a light lunch in Manarola and spent some time wandering through the town. These villages are difficult to describe. You have to see them. Even photographs struggle to capture their charm and scale. After some gelato and a bit more exploring, we returned to Chiavari to enjoy the hotel pool and a great dinner at the hotel restaurant.

We had planned this trip around the travel schedule of our good friends Cheryl and Mike, who were spending a week exploring Provence. We arranged to meet them, along with their traveling companions Greg and Suzanne, in Ventimiglia, a Riviera town located right on the French border.

We drove north that morning, passing through Genoa before arriving in Ventimiglia for a leisurely seaside lunch and an enjoyable afternoon with friends from home. The road along the Ligurian coast is a remarkable feat of engineering. At times it felt as though we spent more time in tunnels than out of them. Italy has built an extraordinary network of highways through some very challenging terrain. The drive provided a good demonstrated how dramatically geography has shaped Italy’s history. Mountains separated regions for centuries, helping create the strong regional identities, dialects, and traditions that still define the country today. The vast network of tunnels, highways, and rail lines have been revolutionary in connecting, for the first time in history, these disparate regions and fostering a deeper unity that existed before.

Back in Chiavari, we decided to return to Cinque Terre to see a few more of the towns and tackle a more ambitious hike. This time Koji remained at the hotel, and he did not seem particularly disappointed when he learned how strenuous the route would be. He held down the fort and guarded the room from his travel bed while we headed out to the train station.

We began in Monterosso al Mare, the northernmost of the five towns and the only one with a true beach. Our first glimpse featured the classic Italian seaside scene: perfectly arranged rows of colorful umbrellas and hundreds of people enjoying the warm weather from lounge chairs or the water itself.

While it is technically not yet summer, Italy is already warm. Days have been sunny, with temperatures in the 70s and 80s—perfect beach weather.

Monterosso quickly became our favorite of the towns we visited. It featured a beautiful church, narrow winding streets, colorful flowers, and a relaxed atmosphere that encouraged lingering. We spent quite a while exploring before beginning our hike.

The trail out of Monterosso wastes no and immediately starts climbing straight into the hills above town. We ascended for at least an hour, passing through terraced vineyards while taking in views of the Mediterranean far below. There were plenty of fellow hikers on the trail, ample shady spots for rest breaks, and clear signs directing us toward Vernazza, the next town along the coast.

The highlight of the hike comes when Vernazza suddenly appears below you. Hundreds of feet beneath the trail, the village is tucked into a narrow opening between the mountains and the sea, its colorful buildings clustered around a small harbor. A medieval tower overlooks the town, and later in the day we climbed it to enjoy yet another remarkable perspective on the coastline.

We had a mediocre pizza for lunch—proof that there is bad food everywhere, even in Italy. Food was not the highlight of our visit. In heavily touristed destinations like these, finding an exceptional meal can sometimes be difficult. Restaurants catering primarily to tourists do not always meet our increasingly finicky standards.

Even so, despite the crowds and the dozens of languages we heard around us, including plenty of American English, we thoroughly enjoyed both the towns and the region. We will undoubtedly return, perhaps a little farther outside the high season next time.

I cannot end this blog without talking about Chiavari, which somewhat unexpectedly has earned a place on our short list of favorite towns in Italy.

We selected Chiavari simply because of its proximity to Cinque Terre and because we found an attractive hotel at a reasonable price. What we discovered was a gorgeous and authentic town featuring a seaside promenade, fountains, parks, a beautiful piazza, rocky beaches, a marina, and miles of elegant porticos.

We knew almost nothing about the town before arriving and spent many hours wandering its streets and stumbling upon beautiful surprises. The town was clean, well maintained, and refreshingly authentic. There were relatively few foreign tourists. Instead, the streets and promenades were filled with Italian families, babies, teenagers, parents, grandparents, and people with disabilities, all sharing public spaces together. We saw circles of teenagers chatting on the beach. Groups of elderly gathered on park benches together, families with strollers, and dogs everywhere. There were small dogs, large dogs, elderly dogs, puppies, all walking, running, sniffing, tugging, and occasionally barking. Hands down this was the most dog-friendly town we’ve seen in a country that is renowned for its dog-friendliness.

The combination of such a rich mix of people, a lovely and well-kept city, and a relaxed seaside atmosphere created a great sense of energy and vibrancy. Chiavari felt alive in the best possible way.

As always seems to happen with places we love, our days in Liguria passed far too quickly. We returned home with sore feet, hundreds of photographs, and a growing conviction that Liguria may be our favorite region of Italy. We came for Cinque Terre, but in some ways it was Chiavari, the unexpected discovery, that lingered most in our minds.

Either way, we’ll be back!

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Feel free to check out the Instagram posts from this trip: