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Published: September 24th 2016
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Moving onto Italy . . . I flew from Barcelona to Genoa because it was a cheap flight and near where I’d need to go to orientation for my English summer camp program. I gave myself a few days there to get acclimated to Italy. I’d never been there before, and like most of the places I move to, not a place I ever imagined living. I guess that’s strange, but looking back, I never had any huge interest in West Africa, the Czech Republic, South Korea, or Spain, but it all worked out in the end. I guess it’s because I’m interested in everywhere that any place is just fine to experience for a while.
I was in Genoa (‘Genova’ in Italian) about three days, which I think was just the right amount of time, but one more day would be great if you want to check out palaces/museums or go to the beach. The weather in early June was generally cloudy/rainy, and I was happy I’d packed long pants, a fleece zip-up, and an umbrella (as I’m writing this, I’m thinking about how many umbrellas I’ve gone through in the past year—lost, stolen, broken . .
. grrr).
Initial thoughts from the airport bus were, “ITALY! Barbed wire around the airport roof. Moped parking area. 4 lanes of traffic (2 each direction) and mopeds driving up the middle or in the opposing traffic’s lane, weaving in and out! Buildings with peeling paint, shutters slightly different colors, everything solid but slowly deteriorating—character!”
That first evening, I was homesick for my apartment and my roommates in Ourense. The hostel was actually really great, but it was disorienting to be in a different country with different landmarks on maps and surrounded by another language, knowing that that situation in Ourense would never exist again, that it was only in the past, and I was in this country for the next three months not knowing what the future held.
I was already feeling a bit ‘touristed’ out. I like seeing new places, but I always feel compelled to see as much as possible wherever I go, so I get exhausted easily.
But when I woke up in the morning, I was ready again. I walked, walked, walked, mostly through the center of the center, wandering in the old
part of the city. I saw signs for Columbus’s house, so I thought I’d head for that. It was only fitting since I’d seen his coffin/statue in Seville in February. But as much as I went in circles around where it should have been, I just could not find it. I happened upon a great plaza (Giardini Luzzati) which should be in guide books. There’s a kind of top level with a community garden, a lower level with tables and shaded areas, and everything is painted brightly. It’s in a bit of a rundown area, so it’s placed perfectly.
In the old center, everything is built haphazardly. At times, it felt like India in its grittiness. It’s the contrast with the haphazardness plus stability that is so striking. Buildings pass over streets by being built with arched tunnels at ground level. There’s lots of graffiti, like in most of Europe, but lots of it is more of the ‘street-art’ variety than ugly tag signatures. I found another beautiful plaza full of plants as well called Piazza Don Andrea Gallo, which I’d totally recommend if you want some green.
After exploring the old center, I
walked up a lot of steps near Corsos Carbonara and Firenze, and got great views of the city and the sea. Unlike Barcelona, Genoa has a hilly center, where it pays off to walk up hills. The architecture there is well-adapted to the hills. Many apartment buildings were built next to hills, so that there was an entrance on the lower ground level, and a bridge from the higher hill over to the roof. Whoever heard of entering a building from the top and going down?!?
The next day was rainier. Although I’d packed an umbrella from Ourense, at some point I realized it had been stolen from my backpack pocket in Barcelona. It hadn’t even been rainy there! I’m usually pretty conscious about securing things away from thieves, but I never expected someone to steal a cheap umbrella. Anyway, I bought a new one from an African immigrant selling them on the street.
It was too rainy to really walk around, so I checked out the Oriental Art Museum, which was nice. It wasn’t that big, but had a lot of Japanese pieces. I wasn’t impressed, but I’ve also been to lots of
museums in Asia, which (rightly) have more to offer. The gardens surrounding the museum were beautiful and open to the public. On a less rainy day, it would be a calm spot for a stroll or picnic.
The rain had eased a bit, so I headed down Via Garibaldi to see some of Genoa’s palaces meant for visitors. Yep, these guys were so rich and powerful they had their own palaces uphill (where I’d gone the day before), and then they built more palaces for guests closer to the city. You can pay to enter at least three of them, but it’s free to peek in to see the courtyards and entrances. Even what you see from the free area is impressive, but I also get a bit bored with too much extravagance.
After a lunch of a warmed-up croissant sandwich (‘brioche’ is a croissant in Italian) in a kind of regular-Joe bar-cafe, I walked down to the ports. The area facing the port on the hill side of the road is a bit seedy, but full of relatively cheap lunch places. There are also lots of immigrants there selling their wares, and you
really get a sense of the diversity of Italy today.
The rain had dissipated more, and crowds were out and about. There was a Sicilian festival happening, with typical foods and dressed-up people dancing. I got the sense that it was like a carnival—that they travel to different towns toting their Sicilian heritage to make some euros, but it was still cool to see.
The port area on the water side is modernized, with paths to walk around near the aquarium and farther down towards the Fiera. Families wandered with small kids, couples sat on dates and watched the sunset, men sat together drinking beers, and I talked to my mom on Skype.
The next morning I was heading to ACLE orientation. Genoa had grown on me, although I still couldn’t tap into its soul. I think the presence of tourists was one reason. Another is that it has at least four distinct areas: the grimy, confusing old center; the hilly upper-class areas overlooking the sea; newer, cleaner-feeling palace area near Via Garibaldi; and the relaxing port area. But, its hilliness allowed me to navigate pretty easily. After a couple of
days there, I felt much more comfortable, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go on to ACLE.
The good news is that ACLE was a fine next step. More about that soon!
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