Cinque Terre is five pastel fishing villages stacked on cliffs that drop straight into the Ligurian Sea — Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore, the "Five Lands" the name refers to. Coral, ochre and faded-yellow houses pile one above another around small harbours, and behind them the whole hillside is terraced: vines and olives on narrow steps that farmers cut out of bare rock over roughly a thousand years. The dry-stone walls holding those terraces up run to some 6,700 kilometres — laid end to end, longer than the Great Wall of China. The slopes are so steep that growers still bring the harvest down on little cogwheel monorails, and the best grapes go into Sciacchetrà, a golden dessert wine pressed here since Roman times.
The villages are car-free, linked instead by train, by boat, and by footpaths threaded across the terraces, where the sea swings back into view at every bend. At dusk the facades glow pink and the first lights begin to shimmer on the water. It is a fragile place. In October 2011 a four-hour cloudburst dropped a third of a year's rain at once, and a wall of mud buried Vernazza and Monterosso, killing four people; both were rebuilt street by street. The most famous walk, the cliff-hugging Via dell'Amore between Riomaggiore and Manarola, was closed by rockfall in 2012. It reopened only in 2024, after a twelve-year, €23-million repair, and is now crossed in small timed groups so it is not worn away.