As I walked the worn trail toward the village of Vernazza in Cinque Terre, I looked toward rugged mountains on the one side, some painstakingly cultivated by traditional farmers, and a steep, rocky drop to mermaid green water on the other. You feel half-tempted to respond to that deep-sea Siren call with one wide-armed jump, but are pulled back to reality by dusty earth, terraced vineyards, and a well-trodden path to a colorful, welcoming village.
A fat, brown angel with paper-light wings and a crown of stars appears in the branches of a Christmas tree, bringing grandma-kisses all the way from Hawaii.