No one in our family swims well. But when faced with cliffs, gentian seas, and no girls willing to challenge the guys, what's a teenage girl to do? My daughters, apparently, knew the answer. Jump off thirty-foot cliffs.
I could handle this only because I watched through the lens of a camera. Somehow, this distanced me from the actual events, and I did not have to cope with the fact that my offspring were hurling themselves into the Mediterranean from heights greater than our rooftop.
The rocky beach of Manarola wasn't the sand and sun of more popular beaches in the Cinque Terre. It was better. It was (literally) high adventure.