They are heralded as one of the great works of mankind, the collective labor of man against nature, turning an inhospitably steep landscape into arable bits of turf on which to scratch out a living. The terraces of the Cinque Terre are one of the major highlights of visiting this area.
While true, there is also another story about the terraces. The one about how many people break their necks while pruning outlying olive branches and falling 15 feet, the one about chasing power tools down into a gully while they stubbornly refuse to come to a standstill, and the one I had today:
While attempting to rid ourselves of an old piece of furniture, I let it go from my hands on one terrace, from which it fell to the one below, and despite being of rectangular form, started rolling, picked up speed, and smashed into the hood of a parked car below. F&*#ing terraces!
