|Some of our staff|
The Cantina (almost the whole staff) packed up our beach bags and headed to the nearby little village of Bonassola, which is outside the Cinque Terre, just after Levanto, and usually much quieter then our busy little villages during the summer. Manuel's cousin went a week ago, and came back to work Thursday raving about the empty beaches, the great seaside lunch, the cocktails, volleyball courts and boogie boards, so it wasn't a difficult sell. We got on the train, some with their children, some with little brothers, and a few waiters sporting near-fatal hangovers, and took the 8 minute ride to Bonassola.
|The walk to Levanto through the old train tunnel|
The again hungover waiters complained like children, but I marched ahead quickly. "Americans", muttered Stefano, our food runner/barback, as he tried to keep pace with my East coast walking speed, convinced I was trying to kill him in the 100 degree heat. "Why do you have to walk so fast?"
"Italians", I responded, "Why do you have to drink so much at Hawaiian parties?".
"Ehhh," he conceded, sighing.
|Arrival in Levanto|
|Fun in the waves|