A Cemetery With A View

Imagine spending eternity in Vernazza high on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. It's not like you would know it – you'd be dead. But if you lived in this seaside town, you know where you could end up, and it’s not too shabby.   

We were planning an Italian vacation, and it was my children’s first time to Italy. I had this feeling we needed to see Cinque Terre since we were down in Florence. It made a nice diversion before Roma, our last stop.   

They use boats as taxis; they stop in each of the five towns on Italy’s most famous Riviera. 

Harbor at Vernazza. This is where the taxi "docks," and probably has in this same spot for hundreds of years.

The Cinque Terre, or five lands, is the Italy I wanted to see, and the Italy I wanted my children to know. 

This is the Ligurian region, where pesto is culinary king, and anchovies are a delicacy that will make you rethink everything you thought you knew about seafood. And how luscious are these frutti di mare! Walking through old town with a paper cone of fresh calamari fritti makes any day complete. The medieval shops in these towns boast pesto bars, wine, gnocchi and trofie genovese, and the smell of fresh focaccia fills the salty air with its intoxicating aroma. 

It's perfectly acceptable to get a gelato at 10 in the morning.

We set out to see the towns from our home base, Monterosso. Although we took the train in from Florence, we opted for the water taxi, which is more like a good sized double decker boat. The first stop south is a lively little town, Vernazza. 

As we approached the harbor of Vernazza. On the upper left of the photo is the cemetery.

This tunnel is how each town in the Cinque Terre connects by land. In one to two minutes you could be in the next little jewel over. Imagine our surprise when we were on our way in to Monterosso from Florence, headed into a tunnel, and came out with the water like this right out the window. You simply cannot prepare for such a visceral thrill. 

You will gasp.

Trattorias await the bustle of the lunch crowds.

On our way getting lost. Of course I can't help but notice we are passing yet another place to eat. When you travel, it's all about eating and when you can do it again.

Here is where the narrow paths climb up the hillside to the cemetery, and it’s unfathomable that people live here. The fortune! On a winding path through the tiny lanes and alleyways that lead to the terraced houses (why yes, this would also make a perfect studio), we made our way up towards the top.

 

On the right path

The view was spectacular. In Cinque Terre, they grow grapes in terraced plots that dot the hillsides. Some even have little carts on tracks that take you up into the vineyard to sample the wines.

Each one of those terraced plots in the hillsides represents hundreds of years of hard work, harvests, and family devotion.

Warm earthy smells of the Mediterranean coast filled our lungs as we made our way up the ancient stone steps.

The last incline

And we were there. Walls of white marble hold the remains of Vernazza’s residents, and many include photographs of the deceased. The contrast of the bright fake flowers against the white marble graves presented a visual feast. 

And a sliver of a sea view

Vacancies

The baby graves are the saddest. They are so small.

 This cherub wears a diaphanous nappy so as not to offend.

Here is another view up to more terraced hillsides.

There’s something about visiting cemeteries that is therapeutic. All these souls have lived, laughed, loved and died, just as we do and will. Unavoidable death is life's price of admission. Yet here it seems blissful. If you had to be interred anywhere, Vernazza cemetery would certainly be appealing. But maybe not. I sort of felt like an outsider, a stranger amongst friends and families laid to rest here. I didn’t feel like I was intruding; more like I was paying respects to those who made a home in this region. 

Perhaps I was also envious of anyone who has had the fortune of calling this place home. So many thoughts went through my head. It made me happy to think of the community's connection even in death.

Life is a weird thing. When you die, you are suddenly not you. You become a shell. Something leaves your body; this I know. But the memories and love shared is real. It was moving to see so many family members laid to rest close to their friends and neighbors. Each person had a story, a life. And here it is celebrated.

 

With a view, of course.

All photos were taken by us this past April.

Map of Cinque Terre courtesy of cinqueterre.com

Cherub drawing © Johanna Westerman 2016