a conversation.
“We’re going to Vernazza!” I said to the vendor who sold me a soda at the airport.
“Have you heard of Vernazza?! We’re headed there now!” I said to the train attendant checking tickets.
“Hi! Where are you headed? We’re going to Vernazza!” I said to the elderly woman sitting across from us on the second leg of our journey. She didn’t speak a word of English, but I could tell she was happy for me. Maybe. She did get up and switch seats awfully quickly. Probably just didn’t want me to see how jealous she was.
I never thought we’d actually arrive. The journey isn’t for the faint of heart. It felt like we’d been traveling for seven days and seven nights before I finally got my first view of the ocean. I slapped my hand against Ben’s chest.
“The ocean! Ben! THE OCEAN!”
You would have thought Clifton Cove was a mountain town with the way I droned on. It’s like I’d never laid eyes on a wave before.
When the small regional train pulled up to our station and we rolled our suitcases out, I cried upon first seeing the village. Ben assumed it was mostly due to my hormones. I’m right in the middle of my second trimester and if I so much as see a sappy commercial, I cry for a solid fifteen minutes.
He was wrong, though—Vernazza’s beauty would have made me cry with or without this baby girl in my belly.
“I can’t believe I’m here. I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M HERE!” I repeated over and over again as we made our way down the cobblestone lane.
Ben had searched high and low for the bed and breakfast I’d mentioned to the tattoo artist.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said. “It’s not as if these places have websites or anything. Everything here is a little old school. I only found the phone number after hounding Eli about it.”
He found it, though, and it was just as I imagined. Small. Quaint. Tucked right in the heart of Vernazza’s main town square. The view was split between the rolling waves hitting the breakers and the countryside sloping up behind the stacked buildings, each one a different pastel shade: blue, yellow, red, orange. Their facades were cracked and old, but their age only enhanced the beauty of the square. I wanted to cry again, but I kept it together.
Il Mare was painted on the plaster above the door.
When we strolled inside, a young woman with dark brown hair stood behind the main desk, arguing with the tall man beside her.
“Julianna loves kittens. You have to let her keep it! You’ll crush her if you insist otherwise.”
“She already has a cat. She doesn’t need another.”
“But it’s Mopsie’s child!”
He threw his hands up, defeated. “Child. Georgie, these are cats you’re talking about!”
Just then, a large white cat hopped up onto the desk, wagging its tail tauntingly. The woman—Georgie, it seemed—pointed to it. “See, he knows we’re talking about him.” She reached out to pet him lovingly. “Don’t worry, Mopsie, I won’t let this old bugger win.”
The woman’s opponent shook his head before reaching down to whisper something in her ear. Her cheeks went bright red and she pressed her hand against his chest just as her gaze finally caught on us.
“Oh! Guests! Sorry about that,” she said, pushing him aside and straightening her dress.
She was beautiful. They both were. Eli had described them perfectly, even down to their English accents.
“Luca, hurry—go get their bags. They look exhausted.”
I felt a little self-conscious then. I probably did look a little haggard.
They helped us check in and chatted with us about the village and everything we had to see and eat while we were there. The following evening, we joined them for dinner out in the square, exchanging stories about Clifton Cove and how it compared to Vernazza.
“It sounds a bit similar,” Georgie said, nodding. “Beachy town with loads of rich people. God, everyone here is pretty much just fancy Brits wanting to get away from it all.”
“Like you two?” I asked, wondering if that was what had brought them there.
Georgie turned to Luca with a wink. “Our story’s a little more complicated.”
During that dinner, they recommended that we trek over to Monterosso, one of the other villages in Cinque Terre, to lay out on the beach since the weather was so nice and warm.
We’re there now, lying under umbrellas, roasting and getting as warm as we can stand to be before we take another dip in the ocean. We’re in no