Portovenere to La Spezia to Sarzana - a dreary march away from the water

9/1 - Portovenere to La Spezia to Sarzana
17.72 miles walked

The walk from the refuge to the center of Portovenere was a short downhill affair lasting about fifteen minutes, and marked the end of many days of ups and downs along the sea. Of course, Italy is a country of hills - actually, many, many more than I had anticipated - so this was not the end of hills in general, just those stretching along that part of the Ligurian coast.

Portovenere is a beautiful little port town, with many similar features to the Cinqueterre. There are lots of beaches, a couple islands, and some dramatic architectural-historical landmarks, especially the church, which seems to thrust its way out of the rocks. I could have easily lingered here all day, but I was eager to cover some distance, and reach Tuscany by the following day. Simply put, I was ready for a change of scene.

So I covered some distance, making great time all the way to La Spezia, home of the vast and terror-inflicting Italian navy. This military stronghold was also the city where I had planned to meet Franca, Teresa's daughter, for lunch. Franca was kind enough to wait around for my arrival at 2:30, and we had a late lunch together, followed by a gelato (it's never too late, or early for that matter, for a gelato). Franca then showed me a bit of La Spezia, though it was a big city and my time was limited. Still, it was a pleasure seeing her once again and chatting some more about the rigors of work, the necessity of vacations, etc.

Actually, I probably stayed a little longer than I should have, as I still had a good eight or nine miles to my campground when I left at 5:00.

The walk, which was away from the water, was a bit somber, especially as it cut through a notably dreary portion of industrial landscape. I smiled and trudged along but was not exactly thrilled to walk next to a putrid, polluted, brackish stream of plant runoff. It is tough to go from the deep blue Mediterranean to that grey sludge in the same day, but fortunately it did not last long, and I was soon marching through increasingly charming little towns, suburbs of La Spezia.

The final piece of the walk was a long bridge over a river, and as the sun set behind me I darted as quickly as I could over the bridge and the oncoming traffic, which happened to be coming from a freeway off ramp. A couple kids on their motos cursed at me, pointing to the unoccupied sidewalk to my left, which unfortunately was blocked off by a three-foot-high barricade. No way in hell was I going to clamber over anything after seventeen miles, so I just pushed on, forcing cars to give me a wide berth by my menacing stare.

Needless to say, I was missnig comfy cozy Vernazza by the time I walked down the gravel ramp to my campsite, itself also a gravel square facing the mosquito-infested river, which was obscured by a tall fence. As I went to bed, I mused that I was getting all the smells and insects of the river without the view. Great.