CINQUE TERRE, Italy -- -Iblame the limoncino.

We were somewhere between the cliffside villages of Vernazza and Monterosso al Mare, and somehow we had strayed from our main hiking path. We walked higher and higher up the mountain, through olive groves and vineyards. We knew we were lost because we hadn't seen any other hikers in more than an hour.

And we kept coming around a bend, expecting to see Monterosso. But it wasn't there. Not even in the distance.

So we did what many lost people do: We kept pushing forward and hoping we would somehow figure out where we were.

Preserving heritage

Cinque Terre -- Italian for the "five lands" -- is a string of villages built into the mountains along the Mediterranean Sea. The towns lie between Genoa and Pisa, in an area known as the Riviera di Levante in Italy's Liguria region.

The land and sea of the Cinque Terre are part of a national park where the government is working to preserve not just the natural beauty, but also the agricultural heritage of the area. Generations of locals have grown grapes, lemons, olives and other crops on the terraced hillsides. Shops in the villages sell wines, preserves, olive oil, canned fish and other items produced by cooperatives.

The five towns are connected by a train line and by a network of hiking paths. Some also can be reached by ferry. Cars are banned from the towns' historic centers, creating a paradise for walkers.

My companion had seen a travel program about Cinque Terre and was captivated by the images of centuries-old stone houses and steep narrow streets, with the mountains on one side and the shimmering sea on the other. I didn't need much persuading.

We stayed in a small hotel in the southernmost village of Riomaggiore, where the terrace offered a view of the main street below and the hill rising behind it. In the morning, we watched a resident tend his garden plot on the mountainside across from us. Lush gardens and orchards were everywhere.

We set aside a day to make a leisurely hike from village to village, working our way northward and planning to explore each place for a while and stop for lunch along the way. We had read that the most popular seaside route was fairly easy and the most scenic.

We set out around 10 a.m. for the first, and shortest, leg of the journey. As soon as we passed the ticket booth where hikers enter the path, we found ourselves walking along a stunning, rocky drop-off. Aqua waves crashed into the rocks below, and huge cactuses clung to the cliff side. I started taking pictures, but it seemed impossible to capture all the beauty.

This section of the trail, known as the Via dell'Amore (roughly, "lovers walk"), took just 10 to 15 minutes to walk. This stretch is not pristine. Vandals have carved their names into the leaves of agave plants and spray-painted graffiti in a tunnel. A small snack bar was perched along the edge of the cliff. But there were breathtaking views that hinted at what was yet to come.

Good footwear a must

The next village, Manarola, was filled with lemon groves. It was early June, and the trees were loaded with bright yellow fruit. Old wooden presses decorated the streets, reminders of the area's winemaking industry.

At the waterfront, big rocks created a natural pool. Metal handrails and a few ladders had been put in to aid swimmers. The water was cold, but several people lay on the rocks to warm up, then egged on one another into jumping in. Colorful wooden fishing boats had been hauled up from the water and left on the piazza and nearby streets, where they waited for their return to the sea.

We continued our walk, headed to Corniglia.

Soon, the path that had been paved with large, flat stones gave way to a rockier, uneven surface, and we sometimes were walking near drop-offs not protected by railings. We also found ourselves -- and heard other people -- huffing uphill for several stretches.

We passed a few unhappy hikers who were sweating in jeans and stumbling in sandals. Though this trail is billed as moderate, a good pair of sneakers is a must.

Along the way, we came upon a bouquet of flowers propped against the railing, which offered a sobering reminder that there is danger in the rugged beauty of this coastline. A handwritten note attached to the flowers said, in Italian, that they were in memory of a 44-year-old mother from Turin who had fallen from that spot to her death. When the accident happened in June 1989, the note said, there was no fence or railing along that stretch of the trail.