Le Cinque Terre

The villages perch precariously, just out of reach of the waves, houses of every shape and hue clustering like barnacles on the dark rocks. Yellow, orange, green, blue. They clamber eagerly over each other like chicks in a nest as they compete for air, giving birth to narrow, confused streets, starved of light for most of the day. The sea sucks at the rocks below and the houses huddle closer.