Honeyed Gelato & Salt-Kissed Stone: A Personal 72-Hour Porto Venere Reverie

Day one in Porto Venere begins with the tang of salt spray on your lips as you pause before La Palazzata’s ochre-and-terracotta tower houses, their narrow facades still guarding the harbor like silent sentinels. I remember tracing the peeling frescoes with my eyes, the early sunlight warming the stones beneath my fingertips. Along the waterfront, bobbing fishing skiffs share space with sleek yachts, and the distant chorus of gulls mingles with clinking rigging as you duck into a sea-scented wine bar for a glass of chilled Vermentino.

Passing under the 12th-century Porta del Borgo, I slipped into Via Giovanni Capellini’s medieval heartbeat—each boutique bakery and gelato shop perfumed with freshly baked focaccia and lemon custard. Insider tip: Veer off into the silent ‘carruggi’ just a block inland to find hidden courtyards and espresso bars where locals linger.

Later, the fairytale silhouette of Chiesa di San Pietro rises on its rocky promontory, the sun glinting off its Genoan-Gothic arches. Tread carefully on the centuries-worn loggia—its stone polish is as glossy as river-smoothed pebbles—and if the church is open, step inside for a moment of hushed cool before climbing the narrow stair to the rooftop, where the Ligurian Sea unfurls in shimmering turquoise below.

Our uphill trek to Doria Castle finds Byron’s Grotto tucked into a shady nook, its echoing waves a secret symphony, and the Communal Cemetery’s white crosses framed against endless sky. For €5, the castle’s ramparts and sunlit gardens reward you with panoramic views of Palmaria, Tino, and Tinetto as the breeze carries the scent of thyme and wild rosemary up the hill. Finally, a gentle descent brings you to the pale stone of San Lorenzo, where the soft glow of its Madonna Bianca icon seems to bless your first sensory-rich day on the Italian Riviera.

We greet the morning with a salty breeze as we board the 9 am Levanto–Cinque Terre ferry, its hull rocking gently while the Ligurian sun melts the dawn mist. I still recall the thrill of rounding Riomaggiore’s pastel cliff-side hamlet, the scent of brine and diesel mingling as fishing boats slipped into hidden coves beneath us. Insider tip: Take the upper deck on the starboard side for unobstructed views of Corniglia’s terraced vineyards and Vernazza’s rainbow-bricked harbor.

In Vernazza, the warm stone of the main drag glows underfoot and the air carries the perfume of lemon blossoms from hillside groves. I wandered past the crumbling castle ruins, tasted sweet Albariño-soaked gelato, and climbed to the old church to watch nets dry under a sapphire sky. Don’t miss the waterfront promenade at high tide—waves lap the wooden pilings in a soothing cadence as local children chase stray gulls.

By midday we’re back on the ferry to Manarola, where the pastel houses shimmer like confetti and the salt-slick rocks invite bare toes. Stroll through the trattorias on the main road, then follow the cliff path to Nessun Dorma’s terrace—ordering bruschetta crowned with vine-ripened tomatoes feels like a taste of sunshine itself. Personal note: I’ve never forgotten the hush that fell over me as I sipped a glass of Sciacchetrà while watching fishermen haul nets at sunset.

When the sky deepens to lavender, we return to Porto Venere for dinner at Palmaria Restaurant. From the veranda, the setting sun bathes Palmaria Island in molten gold and the scent of rosemary drifts on the evening air. Book ahead for a sea-view table—the flicker of candlelight on the water makes every bite of fresh pesto pasta a moment to treasure.

We greet dawn aboard a catamaran as the Ligurian sun crowns Palmaria’s rocky silhouette, the salt-tipped breeze tugging at my hair and the first light igniting the water in molten sapphire. I recommend booking a small-group speed-boat tour from the Porto Venere waterfront—ask your operator to steer us through Tino’s hidden coves and past Tinetto’s sheer cliffs, where the sea churns like liquid glass under ancient watchtowers. Insider tip: Pack a dry bag with a light snack and refillable water bottle so you can linger on a remote beach without running back to shore.

At Palmaria’s Blue Grotto, the water glows an electric cobalt that glimmers beneath our hull—lean over the rail, and you’ll see schools of silver fish darting through sunken arches. Don your swim goggles and slip into the warm embrace of Byron’s Grotto next—a sun-warmed rock ledge becomes your diving platform, and the hush of limestone walls echoing crashing waves feels like swimming inside a cathedral carved by the sea. Micro-tip: Visit at low tide for easier access to the grotto’s sandy shelf, and stow reef-walking shoes in your dry bag for better grip on the slippery stones.

After a sun-soaked swim, return to Old Town for a siesta—I still recall the drowsy lull of cicadas mingling with church bells as I napped beneath a striped awning. As dusk falls, reward yourself with a seafood feast at a tucked-away trattoria: I recommend the catch-of-the-day carpaccio paired with a chilled Vermentino, the briny tang dancing on your tongue as lanterns flicker on the cobblestones. For a final flourish, slip back onto the water for a sunset sail—the horizon blurs into pink and lavender, and the sea’s lullaby carries you gently into night.