A Place in the Sun(66)

“I’ve seen you staring at me. You can’t go back to sleep now.”

I’d managed to pull the sheets back overhead, burrowing myself under the covers. I felt kitten paws on my stomach and glanced down right as Mopsie circled round and curled into a ball.

“Mopsie and I have reached a majority decision that we deserve a bit of a snooze.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm. Also, Mopsie has requested a hot cup of tea with two sugars.”

Gianluca laughed and finally managed to pry the blanket from my hands, tugging it down to expose my naked torso. I always started the night with a full pajama set, but Gianluca somehow managed to strip me as soon as I hit the bed. Very inconvenient, really, as it got quite cold at night.

“Rise and shine, both of you.”

I grinned. “I know what today is.”

“Oh?”

“It’s your birthday,” I said with a wide conspiratorial grin. “I heard you chatting about it on the phone a few days ago and I have an entire day planned for us.”

His brows arched in surprise. “Have you?”

I grinned and sat up, reaching to the side table to pull out a little paper birthday crown I’d made for Mopsie the day before. I had one for me as well. We put them on (Mopsie chewed on his) and then I sang Gianluca “Happy Birthday” so loudly and off-key that a shout came from the square in Italian.

“What’d they say?” I laughed.

“That your singing is beautiful and they’d like you to continue all morning.”

“Well sorry for them because we’ve got to be at the train station in”—I glanced at the clock beside my bed—“ten minutes!”

“What? Are you mad? I haven’t even had breakfast.”

“It’s all been taken care of, birthday boy. Now get on and get dressed in something more outdoorsy. No jeans!”

A few minutes later, we were on our way. I still felt a bit off, tired and achy, but my head felt fine. I knew some caffeine would help, and fortunately, Massimo was standing on the platform with two cups of espresso for Gianluca and me. Surrounding him was our small group of friends. We’d invited Paolo and Matteo, Sofia, Massimo, Kat, and even Taylor. I hadn’t expected him to show up, passing along an invitation as an afterthought, but he reached out and gave Gianluca a big pat on the back as we arrived, excited to be included in our activities for the day. I felt glad I’d invited him. I knew firsthand how lonely you can get traveling by yourself.

“You’ve done all this?” Gianluca asked once he’d gone around and greeted everyone in the group.

I smiled. “Massimo helped as well.”

“Where are we going?”

I’d planned a hike between two of the seaside villages in Cinque Terre: Riomaggiore to Manarola. There was a popular trail between them called The Way of Love that wound right along the coast. It had amazing views and wouldn’t be too much of a trek. We’d stop for lunch in Manarola and then spend the afternoon wine tasting.

Unfortunately, I was shite at planning and hadn’t thought to confirm that the trail was indeed open. Apparently during the massive storm a few weeks earlier, a good bit of the trail had become impassable. They’d closed the whole thing for repairs and the group of us were left at the entrance, facing the DO NOT ENTER sign and then turning to one another with awkward smiles.

“It’s no problem. Let’s take the trail through the national park,” Massimo said, pointing back toward the train station. “It’ll still take us to Manarola and it leads right through the mountains. It’s a bit harder and most people prefer the easy stroll along the lover’s trail, but we’re all young and fit. It should be fine. Plus, the views are second to none.”

I looked to Gianluca; after all, it was his day. He nodded and smiled. “I haven’t done that trail before. It’ll be fun.”

Oh how very, very wrong he was.

We started out on a lovely path, winding along old houses and blooming hydrangeas. We even stopped for a group photo or two with the sea at our back, but while the Via dell’Amore forked off and remained relatively flat, this trail was laid directly up the steepest part of the mountain. A quarter of the way up, I genuinely wondered whether scientists had missed this peak when deciding that Mt. Everest was the world’s tallest.

And then we hit the first set of stairs.

Yes, stairs. On a hike.

They’d been carved from the mountain and they stretched up as far as the eye could see, like some kind of sick analog StairMaster.

“It won’t be bad,” Gianluca promised, coming up behind me and pressing his hand to the small of my back. It was meant to be encouraging, his hand there, but in the end it was more of a nudge than anything else. I should have bowed out from the start. I’d worn Converse instead of proper tennies. I’d assumed we’d just be walking, y’know, on a flat surface, but by the time we’d made it up a hundred or so stairs, the backs of my heels were already rubbed raw.

Lovely.

Paolo and Matteo lead the group at the front, taking the stairs two or three at a time like they were part mountain goat. I had a feeling they were trying to impress Sofia, who was right behind them with Massimo and Kat. Gianluca, Taylor, and I made up the rear, and the longer we hiked, the more distance fell between the three groups. I couldn’t even see Paolo and Matteo anymore. Taylor and Gianluca were doing their best to hang back and wait for me, but I felt embarrassed and told them to go on.