The house is meant for real 5 Terre - lovers, who want to spend a unique holiday in an absolutely private and natural environment, but at the same time be within walking distance of Riomaggiore, the train station and the beach.
The property is located about 150 meters above sea level, trims on the crest of the hill and extends over 1500 square meters of terraced land, cultivated with the grapes of the Cinque Terre Which are used to produce two locally made wines. The eponymous Cinque Terre and the Sciachetrà, both made using Bosco, Albarola, and grapes Vermentino.
The cozy country house is built over 2 floors, ideal for a couple, but with the possibility to accomodate other 2 people in the large shared living room. The master bedroom on the first floor has a private access to a nice terrace overlooking the sea and the garden, this guaranties privacy. We only accept children on your own responsibility as the cliffs might be dangerous.
The floor and ceiling of the bed room, as well as the railings and some furnitures in Under Milk Wood House are antiques from old ships. You get the feeling to be on a boat cruise.
We have heating in winter.
The property enjoys large outdoor living area with various sunsets, sun, summer kitchen with sink, barbecue and outdoor shower under a shaded pergola wine. Everywhere breathtaking sea view on crystal clear water, the bay where you can see the dolphins swim and the small fishing port, as well as the village Riomaggiore.
1. The house is only accessible on foot, you need to walk about 8-10 minutes from the car park. To reach the car park from the train station you need to walk through the town, which is almost entirely uphill, so please pack light! Good shoes and not too big luggage, possible backpacker packs is recommend. There are different possibilities: from the top, you reach by little city bus departing from the train station or the police station/ tourist office, getting out at the Bar 180 Gradi by about 5 min walk down the path with old stair steps, Which then leads to the cemetery (bus stop) of Riomaggiore (can be taken also upstairs from the graveyard to the top) or, more easy, you park your car on the federal road leading to Riomaggiore (or get the bus to the near bus stop) and reach the house via a very simple path through the wine-cultivated land and parallel to the road in max 10 min walk to the house. For this solution there are only few steps to take.
If you are traveling without a car you can reach Riomaggiore or by Ferry or train or bus and then walk to the house (from the cemetery via the stone path upstairs), or take the small bus from the village and get over or under the house and then take the path to the house (easier with luggage).
2. We try to respect Nature and environment, we cultivate our grapes with natural methods and produce our hot water with Thermo Solar System and the heating with Infrared. No air-condition is available, but the place is good ventilated by the exposure over the sea and the large stone walls are keeping the house fresh anche in summer.
3. Wi-Fi available.
Why Choosing it
At Under Milk Wood you will have everywhere breathtaking sea view on crystal clear water, the bay where you can see the dolphins swim and the small fishing port, as well as the village Riomaggiore. If you want to spend your holiday in a paradise, this is the property you are looking for!
The name, Under Milk Wood, takes inspiration from the famous Dylan Thomas‘s radio drama (1954) commissioned by the BBC and later adapted for the stage. In the play an omniscient narrator invites the audience to listen to the dreams and innermost thoughts of the inhabitants of the fictional small Welsh fishing village Llareggub (“bugger all” backwards). The owner of Under Milk Wood found a similarity of images and feeling in staying at this lovely property in Riomaggiore and that made the name history!
Dylan Thomas, Under Milk Wood: A Play for Voices (1954) [Silence]
FIRST VOICE (Very softly) To begin at the beginning:
It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless
and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishing boat bobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat
there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows' weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.
Hush, the babies are sleeping, the farmers, the fishers, ...