Italian Travelogue Part 3: Cinque Terre/Lake Como

Sunday was the day we split up. My friend Brant was heading for Venice and Verona, while I was heading northwest to the coast at Cinque Terre. It was going to be about a three hour train ride from Florence.
I sat down in my seat and got my Ipod out of my backpack. I was trying to untangle the headphones when the man across from me leaned over and said: "Got yourself an Ipod?"
Amazing deduction, Captain Obvious, is what I thought. "Yes I do," is what I said.
Stupid tangled headphones. If they hadn't been tangled I could have been enjoying Over the Rhine (great Sunday morning traveling on a train music) instead of talking to C.O. here.
"Had nothing but trouble with mine," he said with disdain.
"Never had any trouble with mine," I replied, desperately untangling, my borderline antisocial disorder kicking in.
"Never worked. Always froze up. Trouble."
"I love mine," I said, probably a bit defensively, "Works great."
"Trouble."
The conversation continued in this fashion for several minutes. C.O. pointed out the various flaws, while I zealously defended my precious Ipod. Fortunately this man was traveling with family, and due to lack of seats his mother had had to sit a few rows up the train. I pointed this out to him.
"I don't mind switching seats so she can sit with you all. I'm traveling alone."
So tactfully I was able to move away from C.O. The train was pulling out of Florence and I sat back to listen to my music. And my Ipod froze up on me. Nothing had ever gone wrong with it until that very moment. C.O. had cursed it. I turned around to look at him. He was looking at me with a I told you so look. I hated him.
Anyway, it was on to Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is a group of five fishing villages hugging the rugged coast of northwest Italy. Since I had been there last it had been turned into a national park. The coastline is so rugged here that a couple of the villages were up to very recently inaccessible by car. When the train was built they cut long tunnels through the mountains so a couple of the stations are underground. A hiking trail high above the sea connects the five villages. It is absolutely beautiful. I hope that any future honeymoon takes place here.
I only get to spend two days here. I lay on the beach in the morning, and hike the coastal trail in the afternoon. Somehow I am able to resurrect my Ipod so I can listen to music again. I also finish my book, All Quiet on the Western Front, which really isn't a beach book at all.
On Tuesday I hop a train and head north to Lake Como, another absolutely beautiful locale at the base of the Alps. I meet up with Brant there. We're staying in a little village called Veranna, which sits across the lake from Bellagio. Apparently George Clooney has a house there. They filmed the stupid stupid love scenes from Attack of the Clones there, too.
Other than hiking up a mountain to see a castle, no real physical activity takes place here. The second week in Italy was less sightseeing and more relaxation. There was also more adjective-defying food. Sadly, after two days it was time to head for Milan to catch a flight back to the States.
Again, quite possibly the best vacation ever. It is my goal to return once a year.
By the final count, I had taken six rolls of film. Brant, my history buff Itinerary-carrying friend had taken somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty. He had also spent several hundred dollars on souvenirs. I had spent approximately five. I can always buy more next time.