Cinque Terror
In March 2019, Italian officials announced that flip-flops would no longer be welcome on the wending walkways that connect the five hillside villages on the Italian Riviera that are known as the Cinque Terre. Furthermore, anyone attempting to saunter the rugged trails in The Official Shoe of Vacation could face fines of up to $2,826. The authorities who oversee Cinque Terre—a national park and UNESCO World Heritage Site—were fed up with rescuing ill-equipped tourists from the narrow paths, sometimes via helicopter, which costs about 5,000 euros per hour.
Stranded sandal-wearing hikers are just one of the many side effects of overtourism in the region, where 2.5 million annual travelers—most of whom are from Europe, the US, and Asia—flock to the jewel-toned medieval fishing villages carved into picturesque coastline. Once considered an off-the-beaten-path destination, Cinque Terre has received increased publicity from travel outlets over the years, with many laying the blame at the feet of Rick Steves, the hugely popular American travel writer and TV host.
All year long, cruise ships disgorge hundreds of thousands of tourists at the nearby port city of La Spezia, who are then loaded onto buses and transported to the tiny towns. Others arrive via a railway that connects the villages, which often becomes so packed that commuters wait several deep for their chance to ride and, once aboard, are wedged in shoulder-to-shoulder.
Once considered an off-the-beaten-path destination, Cinque Terre has received increased publicity from travel outlets over the years, with many laying the blame at the feet of Rick Steves.
Locals complain that the visitors, particularly those who arrive via cruise ship, are mere daytrippers, spending whatever money they can in a few hours, and not availing themselves of the local lodgings. Worse, some actively deface the ancient villages and terrain: scrawling graffiti on train cars, rocks, and sign posts, barreling past “No Trespassing” signs to trample the delicate landscape while they snap a photo, and scratching their names into cacti. Some locals have complained to reporters that because their little towns don’t have enough bathrooms to accommodate the hordes, visitors have taken to urinating and defecating in backyards and doorways. Cinque Terre is known for producing a sweet wine called sciacchetrà, but now tourists can avail themselves of more familiar resort-style fare, such as bucket-sized margaritas with bottles of Corona upended in them.
Some tourists actively deface the ancient villages and terrain: scrawling graffiti on train cars, rocks, and sign posts, barreling past “No Trespassing” signs to trample the delicate landscape while they snap a photo, and scratching their names into cacti.
Cinque Terre is known for producing a sweet wine called sciacchetrà, but now tourists can avail themselves of more familiar resort-style fare, such as bucket-sized margaritas with bottles of Corona upended in them.
There is one place where Cinque Terre looks placid—and that’s on social media, where a hashtag of the region’s name pulls up over 1.6 million Instagram posts depicting a serene seaside enclave devoid of people. If humans feature, there is usually only one, looking wistfully out to sea or posing before the improbably stacked technicolor buildings. To anyone scrolling through their feeds at home, Cinque Terre may seem isolated, resplendent. What they’re not seeing is how easy the verticality of the landscape makes it to take a picture that way: just angle your camera up to the hillside and snap, cropping out the mobs below.