Boil a strand of spaghetti until it’s overdone. Pluck it from the hot water, then toss it into the air. Let it splat onto the floor. The resulting squiggle will resemble the
serpentine coast of Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre, the narrow national park that hugs western Italy’s Mediterranean coast, sandwiched between the sea — with its fishing boats, sailboats and ferries — and the mountains — with their terraced gardens, lemon groves, olive trees, vineyards, irises and poppies growing wild, geraniums cultivated carefully.

It’s the rare national park that visitors can walk end to end in less than a day — although a strenuous walk, it is along a well-trod, predominantly uneven, rock-strewn trail that winds up and down and around, forcing dusty hikers at some precarious points to squeeze against the dry-stone walls to let others pass. Even rarer is the national park that, during a single day, offers multiple opportunities to stop for a gelato, or a glass of local wine, or freshly caught grilled sardines, or a shot of potent lemon liqueur made from fruit harvested from nearby trees.

The park gets its name from the five villages — Cinque Terre — spaced irregularly along its 18 kilometers: Monterosso al Mare near the northern end, and then winding southward through Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore. Those are the quintet of quintessentially picturesque villages that appear below cliff-side walkers as they round curves in the trail and tantalizingly beckon as oasis-like incentives to keep going, despite the pain in the calves and the heat of the summer sun.

Those villages are the stopping places for refreshment, for lodging, for the inevitable postcards and souvenirs. Most motor vehicles are banned from their tight streets, so there are no exhaust fumes and car engines to disturb the pleasure of dining al fresco on bread dipped in locally pressed olive oil, cheeses, mussels cooked in saltwater and calamari.

Visitors too tired to continue on foot can pick up the train that runs through all of them or the ferry that stops at all but inland Corniglia.

But Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre is more than merely a scenic tourist destination whose offshore waters are known for whales and colorful reef formations and are designated a marine protected area.

As a United Nations Educational, Scientific & Cultural Organization world heritage site, it’s on a select roster of natural and cultural treasure sites deemed worthy of international protection. It’s also an historic area, inhabited and cultivated for thousands of years, where intact communities thrive within the borders of a national park rather than separate from it.

In its 1997 report evaluating the site for inclusion in the world heritage list, a UNESCO advisory committee talked of the “contrast between the wild and impenetrable nature of the Mediterranean and the controlled order of the geometry of terraced fields, still maintained by a small group of people.”

It is those lessons of inclusion rather than isolation and of the contrast between wild and tamed that distinguish Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre from the traditional model of national parks, the familiar model where gates and fences and borders demarcate place from people, resource from inhabitants.

“Heritage is our legacy from the past, what we live with today, and what we pass on to future generations,” according to UNESCO. “Our cultural and natural heritage are both irreplaceable sources of life and inspiration.”

If that’s true, then a lived-in national park may illuminate both values — mutually enriching rather than irreconcilably conflicting values — of a place. So when UNESCO describes its world heritage mission as including encouragement of “participation of the local population in the preservation of their cultural and natural heritage,” it doesn’t require creating a living museum where local residents are on display, frozen in a quaint time warp or reenactment, while visitors gawk and gush and then go home.