Here you can browse through my blog posts prior to February 2022. Currently I'm sharing my travel experiences, candid opinions, and what's on my mind solely on my Facebook page. — Rick

After the Flood: Small-Town Grudges and Mother Nature’s Nudges (Part 2 in a 3-Part Series)

I woke to the sound of miniature cement trucks and jackhammers. These were happy sounds to me, as physically, Monterosso and Vernazza are being put back together after the recent devastating flood. Socially, too, it’s been a time of reconstruction for both communities. Being small towns, they were rife with cliques and ancient grudges. With the challenge presented by the flood and recovery period, locals marvel at how everyone came together. Today, many locals enjoy better relations with old enemies, but there is a new divide: between people who joined in the community-wide effort, and those who only took care of their own business needs (or even left town during the chaos). In both towns, while a large percent of the businesses were essentially destroyed, lots of people and hotels that were on higher or luckier ground came through unscathed, losing only their water and electricity for a while. Some of them ignored their business needs and became heroically involved. And, as it goes in small towns, those who didn’t will long be remembered for turning their backs on neighbors in need.

People commented on how, having experienced this tragedy, they have a new empathy for distant people dealing with similar natural disasters. Others commented on how, now, every time there’s a big rain, anxiety sweeps through the community.

The tourist business in 2011 was very strong. October 25 was at the end of the season, when locals were ready for a much-needed winter break. While the flood hit at the perfect time from a business point of view, locals, already exhausted after a very busy season, had to immediately plunge into a nonstop rebuilding period, pushing to be ready for the 2012 season.

Vernazza's beach is swollen by mud from surrounding hills. Soon the hard-working tractor will be replaced by lazy sunbathers.

For travelers wondering if it’s OK to travel to the Cinque Terre, here’s my take: Three of the towns were unaffected (Riomaggiore, Manarola, and Corniglia). They have plenty of tourism and don’t need your business as much. I’d choose between the two flood-ravaged communities. Monterosso is completely ready. Vernazza, with a few hotels and restaurants already open, expects to be ready for prime time by June. Crews have worked tirelessly to get the trails put back together and the best hikes are wide open. This is a great time to visit, to both stoke and celebrate the recovery, and to be one of the first to enjoy the charms of either town, post-flood. There’s a camaraderie in the air and an appreciation of tourists that is palpable. Even in late April, over the course of several days, I saw countless travelers enjoying their visits as they would if there had been no flood.

Monterosso: Overloaded drainage canals and ancient streams swollen under the streets caused pavement to burst upward.

Monterosso's six under-street channels stand ready to allow future floods to flow unimpeded through town and into the sea without taking businesses and dreams with it.

The people of the Cinque Terre are being taught a tough lesson. It’s their beautiful land that brings the tourists. With the affluence brought by tourists, locals abandoned their land — leaving the vineyards unplanted and the centuries-old dry-stone terracing to crumble — for less physically demanding, more profitable work in tourism. (Grapevines are lighter on the land and have far-reaching root systems to combat erosion. Traditional vintners keep the stone terraces in good order.) But after a generation of neglect and abandonment (while the Cinque Terre enjoyed and profited from tourism), the land was washed by violent weather into the towns. It’s like nature was speaking: There will be no tourism to harvest without proper stewardship of the land. The question that remains: Will the lesson be learned, remembered, and heeded? (Tomorrow: the last in this three-part flood series.)

Groups of expat American women (who fell in love both with the towns and their men) are helping organize relief and communications in the aftermath of this disaster Rebuild Monterosso and Save Vernazza. For all the latest in both towns, see these websites or reach them through our Cinque Terre News page.

Cinque Terre Flood — Six Months After (Part 1 in a 3-Part Series)

On October 25, 2011, after a very dry summer, a freak rainstorm hit the Cinque Terre, an idyllic string of five Italian Riviera towns. Within four hours, the region got 22 inches of rain — a third of an average year’s total. Because of the topography and the ability of the flash flooding to drain, three of the towns (Riomaggiore, Manarola, and Corniglia) were undamaged, and two were devastated. Much of Monterosso and Vernazza were buried under three meters of mud and left without water, electricity, or phone connections. It was a day residents will talk about for the rest of their lives.

I visited on the six-month anniversary of the flood (April 25). In the next week, I’ll share my Cinque Terre experience here on my blog.

The day after the flood was hot and dry and everyone came together, starting a winter of digging out and rebuilding. In Monterosso six canals run under six streets to the sea. Debris from landslides filled these up, clogging things so the deluge went over ground. Trees, furniture, cars, buses, and tons of mud and rocks plowed through the city. Water pressure from drain pipes below caused streets to explode upward. Medieval wells in basements became geysers. Rivers of raging mud rampaged down the streets, stranding people, and ultimately leaving shops and restaurants on the main streets of old Monterosso and Vernazza buried.

The mud that buried Vernazza on October 25 destroyed every business on its main street.

Vernazza's mayor, Vincenzo Resasco, artfully and tirelessly kept the rebuilding of his town on track and people working together. Six months to the day after the flood, he proudly showed me the town's impressive progress.

With that first post-flood sunrise, tourists were evacuated, emergency workers came in, and locals rolled up their sleeves and began shoveling. Through the winter there were no weekends as they set out to rebuild in time for the next tourist season.

While April 25th, the six-month anniversary of the tragedy, was also was Italy’s Independence Day, and holidays here are normally sacrosanct, everyone was still hard at work.

The destruction occurred mostly along former ravines, where, historically, streams ran through the towns. In the last century, the ravines were covered with roads, and the water drained through canals under the pavement that, over time, were not properly maintained. Like congested arteries (made even worse with all the debris that washed into town), the drainage canals couldn’t handle the raging flow. Monterosso’s streets are now repaired. Big new grates allowing ready access to the canals and the sound of rushing water assure townsfolk that the streams are flowing unimpeded below.

Vernazza is built around one street (built over the stream in its ravine), with the surrounding hills like a funnel directing flash-flood waters right through the middle of town. After six months, the upper half of town still feels like a war zone, with no businesses open and many apartments and homes still unoccupied. But the harborfront has come back to life. Alpine engineers have been imported from Switzerland to analyze the drainage challenges and put nets above the town to protect it from more landslides. Thankfully, the structural integrity of the buildings is generally fine.

While both towns incurred about the same amount of destruction, Vernazza is smaller and more isolated, so a bigger percent was devastated. It was still rebuilding with most of its businesses yet to open. Monterosso, a bigger town with better access to the outside world, was essentially back up and running. Restaurants and businesses at street level in affected areas were gutted and today have replaced everything: tables, chairs, plates, walls lined with bottles of wine, stoves, and so on.

Chef Gino, of Monterosso's Ristorante al Pozzo, shoveled mud through the winter with his family. Now Gino cooks again. While many of his best bottles of wine survived — but with labels obliterated.

Nearly every business in Vernazza — mostly humble mom-and-pop shops — spent their winter literally digging out.

A week or so ago, the president of Italy came to Vernazza in a show of support. The town’s most venerable restaurant, which had just reopened, cooked him the region’s signature dish: pasta with pesto. The president enjoyed it so much, he’s flying the chef to Rome to cook and serve it at the presidential palace.

Talking with locals, a phrase I hear over and over is “piano, piano” (little by little). Little by little, they are rebuilding. I was told, “The reality of a tragedy like this is: Eventually the government aid dries up, the sympathy fades, and it’s just you and a shovel.” (Tomorrow, part two.)

The Unimaginable Labors of a Young Tour Guide

My son and I crossed paths in Barcelona this week. Andy is finishing up his second year (fourth semester) of offering three-day weekends to American college kids on European study-abroad programs. This has been his best semester yet, with about 500 participants in his various “Weekend Student Adventures” (also the name of his company). I spent a few nights hanging out with his gang. I couldn’t help but notice some similarities in our evolution as tour guides and tour operators. When I was in my mid-20s, it was generally me and eight girls on a minibus (this photo is from one of our very earliest tours…must have been 1978). Thirty-four years later, Andy is enjoying a similar ratio. Actually, on this particular weekend tour, Andy had 23 girls and 2 boys. These are smart and fun kids, hungry for new experiences. And, with Andy’s guidance, they’re having plenty. At this stop on his tapa pub crawl, the gang ate about a hundred little anchovies—yes…heads, tails, bones, fried guts, and all. For about half the kids, this was a first. (Later on, with my encouragement, out came the big plate of oreja—pigs’ ears.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vicky and Cristina! Gaudí’s Dream Is Coming True!

I’ve long said, “If there’s one building I’d like to see in Europe, it’s Gaudí’s Sagrada Família church in Barcelona…finished.” The church has been an epic work-in-progress for over a hundred years now, and in the last couple of years there has been huge progress. In fact, my breath was literally taken away during my visit today, as the main part of the church interior is enclosed and ready for worship. It was consecrated recently by the Pope. The stained glass needs to be put in (which will heighten the already magical ambience of its awe-inspiring interior), the towers need to be completed (the central one will be the tallest church tower in Europe by a long shot — functioning as a beacon to cruise ships far out at sea), and hundreds of condo dwellers need to be bought out so neighboring buildings can be demolished to make way for the regal esplanade, which will approach what promises to be the most exciting church built in our lifetimes. The hope: to finish the church by 2026—the 100th anniversary of architect Antoni Gaudí’s death. By then, it’s my bet that Gaudí will be sainted. If there is a miracle anywhere in the world of architecture, it is this building.

If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.

The Tooth Fairy (and Other Delights) of Madrid

In Madrid I love to have a room with a tiny balcony overlooking the Times Square of all of Spain, Puerta del Sol. This square, like so many in Europe, has gone from a traffic nightmare to a park-like people zone. Within a 10-minute walk I can (and did) visit the third greatest palace in Europe (Madrid’s Royal Palace), my favorite collection of paintings under any single roof in Europe (at the Prado Museum), and the ultimate town square (Plaza Mayor). And even more exciting, I went to a tiny museum busy with enthralled and wide-eyed little Spanish kids to meet their mystical little mouse, “Ratón Pérez.” This amazing little guy, a kind of four-legged tooth fairy, gives candies to Spanish kids when they lose a tooth and put it under their pillow. There was ample evidence of the little mouse Pérez everywhere in the museum, but the magical little rodent himself was nowhere to be found. (The Ratón Pérez museum is one of many fun new listings I’ve added to the upcoming edition of my Spain guidebook.)

If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.