Rapallo: Spectacular Cablecar to Montallegro

Yesterday, we rode a spectacular cablecar to Montallegro, at the top of a hill behind Rapallo. By cablecar, I mean the things that have gondolas hanging in air, suspended from and drawn up a mountain or tall hill by probably sturdy, reliable cables. By gondolas I mean the people-carrying boxes used, for example, on ski lifts, not the small boats in canals in Venice.

I called it a “spectacular” cablecar because that’s the adjective one of my sister’s tour books used to describe it. Spectacular is, of course, a subjective term. Some people might describe the cablecar as “almost, but not quite spectacular.” Others might call it “borderline spectacular.” Spectacularism purists, to coin a term, may use “spectacular” without adding anything to it, while people who are generous with their praise may go with “very spectacular” or “spectacularly spectacular.”

I could continue on about the gradations of spectacular for several more paragraphs, but I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself. For me, I’ll go with the purists and just say “spectacular.” Really. How can you top “spectacular?”

On the way up, the cablecar afforded great vistas of Rapallo, the surrounding hills, and the sea. The views of Rapallo from up there made it clear that it’s a much bigger city than I thought.

So far, we’ve explored mostly the old section of Rapallo, close to the waterfront. And I didn’t realize there was much more to the city. But Rapallo extends quite a distance up a valley between two hills. While it is hard to tell from high up in the air, the part of Rapallo that protrudes into the valley looks newer and less interesting. And the tour books don’t mention anything in that section. So we probably won’t bother venturing into it.

I couldn’t get a good picture out of the cable car windows, so none of the photos you see here depict the cablecar’s spectacularness, to coin another word. You’ll just have to trust me on that. Or not. Your choice.

The View

The view from Montallegro is also spectacular.

Hills. Valleys. Trees. Sea. City views. It has it all.

There are a few pictures on this page for your viewing enjoyment. If you don’t enjoy them, I’ll give you your money back and you can take your travel journal perusing elsewhere. Who needs you?

I’m not sure if the spectacularness mentioned in the entry in the tour book my sister read referenced only the cablecar or if it also referred to the view from the top. So I don’t know if the book agrees with me on the, to continue my word-coining, spectacularity of the views. Regardless, the caveat about the subjectivity of spectacularness still applies.

You will find a few pictures of the views from Montallegro on this page. So, you can judge for yourself.

There are some short hiking trails along the hills from Montallegro. Actually, there are some long hiking trails. But if you don’t head out too far before you give up, turn around and come back, they are short to you. I speak from experience on this.

Thanks to the patrons and pilgrims of the Sanctuary of Madonna di Montallegro (see below), one of the trails included stone landmarks of the Stations of the Cross. I’d speak more about this except that, being an atheist Jew, I know absolutely nothing about the Stations of the Cross.

I suppose I could look it up, but I’m travelling and I just want to enjoy myself. And, not being the least bit interested, looking it up wouldn’t be enjoyable to me. So, to expand on the Stations of the Cross on the trail at Montallegro, I’d have to make it up. That would be enjoyable for me. But believers would likely be extremely upset with the irreverent inanities I came up with. So, never mind. LIfe is too short. And the extremists among them might try to make my life shorter.

Sanctuary of Madonna di Montallegro

In Mongallegro, near the top of the high hill, sits a church, the Sanctuary of Madonna di Montallegro. I think Madonna di Montallegro eventually shortened her name to just Madonna and went on to have a very successful singing career. But I might be mistaken. (Sorry about that inanity, believers. Please don’t kill me.)

Come to think of it, I probably am wrong about that. The sanctuary was built in the sixteenth century. That predated Madonna somewhat.

Faithful make pilgrimages to the sanctuary to ask the long-deceased Madonna di Montallegro to cure whatever they or their loved ones suffer from. Plastered on every wall, nook, and cranny of the church are pictures of people the Madonna allegedly cured. There are also often brief inscriptions thanking her. And it’s not just pictures. In some cases, people attach little figures of the body parts, such as a toy leg, that the Madonna allegedly cured.

What are not on the walls are pictures of the people who prayed to her, but didn’t receive a cure. I have no way of knowing, but I suspect they are much larger in number than those whose pictures and model body parts adorn the walls. Go figure.