The final leg of my Italy tour: Genoa. I knew absolutely nothing about this place before arriving, except that I thought salami was from here. Not quite right. But I did soon find out that Genoa is home to pesto and Christopher Columbus, two exports that have left the world with wildly different aftertastes.

My first impression of this city: absolutely stunning. After shuffling through countless micro-towns in Puglia small enough to fit on your grandma’s postcards; after trudging through Rome, which was amazing but feels like Disneyland traded its rides for ruins — Genoa was a complete breath of fresh air. The city boy in me rejoiced, and how often do I find myself rejoicing or even using that word. Finally, an actual city!

After arriving by train from Rome, my girlfriend and I walked through much of the main city center. I felt immediately at home with the flow of foot traffic beating up and down Via XX Settembre, with massive walkways lining all the shops and cafes. Genoa keeps all the aesthetic charm you come to expect from a European city: the sweeping columns, carved arches, elaborate stonework, grand fountains, quaint alleys and of course, all the terrace seating. We also walked down to the marina before going back to the apartment.

That night we ate a much-appreciated home-cooked meal with my girlfriend’s parents, including my first real pesto pasta experience. Buonissimo!

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A quick geography lesson: Genoa sits right on the Ligurian Sea (part of the larger Mediterranean Sea), along Italy’s northwest coast. Again, I knew none of this pre-arrival, as I’ve developed this strange habit of traveling the same way I watch movies: no trailers or spoilers — I want the full effect of seeing it all unfold with childlike surprise.

And that’s exactly how Day 2 started. My girlfriend’s morning appointment took us to some hillside by car. After that, we began a walk back home. It was like a cinematic sequence with the camera tracking along an obstructing wall, holding the reveal just out of frame. Then out of nowhere, boom — the Ligurian Sea. Right in front of us, literally at arm’s reach, breathtaking navy-blue waters, dancing and sparkling under the perfect Italian sunlight. This particular area was Boccadasse, known for its pastel-colored houses stacked along a small bay. We continued with our picture-perfect seaside walk until we reached the apartment. Just two days in and Genoa was already becoming my favorite city in Italy.

The next morning, we took a 20-minute train east to a town called Pieve Ligure. A short downhill hike led us to the edge of a cliff, the whole horizon swallowed by more open sea. We climbed our way down the stone path until we found a flat bit of rock to rest on. From there, our bodies slipped into the clear blue, while our minds tried clinging to this moment knowing we’d soon have to go back to real life.

If all this wasn’t enough, we spent the next two days sailing! Unfortunately I discovered I’m less Aqua Man and more Water Boy, and so spent most of Day 4 seasick, on my back, eyes closed, playing the “are we there yet?” game in my head for four hours. We finally docked in a small town and spent the night on the boat. Not my best sleep, for sure.

I took a nausea pill the following morning, which quelled my seasickness. We sailed back to Genoa, but not before stopping to catch a glimpse of the iconic Portofino bay. For about ten minutes on that boat, I felt blissful and weightless, like I’d reached life’s arbitrary finish line and the world had nothing left to demand of me.

And then we sailed onward.

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And that’s it for my time in Italy. An amazing 17-day trip capped by staying in by far my favorite city in the country. I’ll be back in the future for more sea and sky. Arrivederci!

Genoa

Rome & Vatican City