Manarola

These small villages sit on the sea, literally. 

Fishing boats are parked like cars on a traditional street. I'm curious how the locals get these boats from the harbor to these small side streets. 

While enjoying these views we noticed four gentlemen hauling sheet rock up these ever steep inclines to a home at the top of another set of stone steps. Each man balanced sheet rock on his back and ever so steadily climbed the path and then on toward the staircase where he would tilt and maneuver himself and the sheet rock up the narrow staircase until we lose sight of him inside the building. My sister and I talked about how every single task of construction is done by hand with brute strength and determination. 
Because we were there in the off season there seemed to be a lot of construction and renovations to properties being done. We also watched several places being worked on where the demolition debris was handed down by rope from the top story of a building in 5 gallon buckets!
I'm certain we stared at the way this culture took this all in stride and the striking contrariety of our own culture. 

Sitting on those timeworn stones as we looked silently at the sea was a humbling experience.

We watched families enjoy each other's company while a brother teased his sister just out of sight of mom's scolding.

Manarola, you are a gem and you know it.