I will describe the past couple of days and then give you some thoughts on the trip.
Genova is a gem. It is old with tiny streets running at crazy angles and filled with bakeries, cheese shops, meat shops and about everything else. The city is quite a bit off the tourist routes (other than a transit spot to and from the cruise ships that pick up passenger). It of course has a long seafaring history that it is very proud of. And rightly so. We stayed in a hotel on a pier. The hotel was generic, like any other bigish hotel. But being on the water was super nice. We could watch the sailboats and fishing boats coming into and going out of the harbor and that was a nice change.
We wandered aimlessly most of one afternoon. We found a fantastic, tiny hole-in-th-wall fish joint (called a friggitoria) where we had fantastic plates of mixed types of fish – anchovies, smaller fish that apparently don’t have an English name, squid, octopus, shrimp, and some other stuff. The store doesn’t have a name or a sign – just walk in and order some fish and enjoy (no tables, either). That seems to be a fitting allegory for Genova – just figure it out.
| Fantastic assortment of all kinds of fish |
| The guys who cook it |
| Trying to figure out what/how to order |
| The result: anchovies and small fish and a beer |
A
very late dinner featured fish, too.
Lorie started with mussels while I was dying for a fresh salad. The mussels were the best we’ve had. For the main course, Lorie went for a seafood
risotto and I had spaghetti alla vongole with fish roe. Both were fantastic.
| Lots of big yachts in Genova |
| And classy pretty ones, too |
| Art in the harbor |
| The view from our hotel room |
| Mussels |
| Seafood risotto -- a lot like paella |
| Spaghetti alle vongole with fish roe |
Genova. Go there if you can and when you do, stay in
the old quarter by the old harbor (the “porto antica”). It is really a gritty area, some shady but
colorful characters and some pan handlers, but totally safe and, to be honest,
magnitudes more comfortable than walking around in downtown Portland these
days. It isn’t praised on the tourist
information sites but Genova is fantastic.
In
the morning we loaded up the bike and rode to the train station, which was
about 3 miles deeper into the heart of the city. We found it easy enough and bought tickets on
the “regionale” train for Milano. I’ve
probably mentioned it before, but in Italy bikes are only allowed on the
regional trains and you need to buy a ticket for them. And not all regional trains allow bikes –
there has to be a bike symbol on the electronic scheduling boards. We needed to make one transfer in Alessandria,
but that would be easy enough.
Our
first train was an “originale,” which means that it originated in Genova. The train car that carries the bikes is
clearly marked with a bike symbol. Our
early arrival made life really easy and we could load the bike on leisurely without
knocking anyone over. In fact, we were
the only bike on the train at this early hour.
The only people in the bike car.
In
Alessandria we had thirty minutes until our train to Milano departed. But the train that was at the station didn’t
have a bike symbol on any cars, although the electronic scheduling board
clearly showed that this was a bike-OK regionale. So we tried to inconspicuously move to the
very last car in the train and we loaded the bike into a space where it would
pose minimal disruption to other passengers.
We just hoped that we wouldn’t get kicked off.
A
few minutes before the train left an old woman, maybe early 80s, approached our
car. She was towing one of those suit
cases with wheels and she had a very concerned look on her face. She asked if this was the train to Milano and
we assured her that it was. But she said
that she couldn’t find a ticket validator machine and so her ticket was not
validated (Italy also requires that all tickets be validated before getting on
the train – to not do so results in a big fine). So I volunteered to run to the station to
find a validating machine. I had about 2
minutes so I moved fast. Down in the
tunnel where the validators are, there was nothing. Dany.
So I ran through the tunnel and found one about five platforms
later. I crammed the ticked in,
validated it, and ran back to our platform and up the stairs and to the rear
car of the train. I made it just as the
doors were closing. Whew! The woman was very thankful.
It
was a good thing that we were the only bike on that part of the train and we
were in the last car, since the train was filling up at each stop. A few stops later a couple of other bike
riders loaded onto the train and we all kind of jigsaw puzzled the bikes
together while they had a laugh about the size of our RV of a bike. It made me feel better that there were more
bikes onboard – at least we knew that we were OK.
The
ride to Milano was fast but I had to stand the whole ride to hold onto the
bike. Lorie sat close to our luggage as
there was a group of young drunks who were really obnoxious. They didn’t bother us, but they were
bothering the woman for whom we’d validated the ticket. Her solution was to move close to Lorie and
put her suitcase next to her. That resolved
her concern but we still had to listen to 5 or 6 idiots (it was only maybe 1000
in the morning. After the girl that was
in their bunch tried to panhandle from everyone in the car, we were glad that
they got off a few stops away from Milano.
We
rode easily from the Centrale station to the BnB where we are staying and got
settled in. A few minutes later we got a
text from Silvia and Marco – the friends we’d met when we first arrived,
wondering if we wanted to join them for dinner.
They’d written down our schedule and were expecting us back today. We had a wonderful evening at a pizza place
run by a family from Napoli – just a tiny place but about the best pizza we’ve
had anywhere. The crust was sublime.
| Yummy pizza |
And
in closing, a few thoughts about places we visited. The Alps and the Dolomites are wonderful and
we’ve never had a bad day there (even when it is cold, rainy, snowy and we had
blown out tires). Anywhere in the Alps
or Dolomites. San Martino di Castrozza
was a favorite, but Ponte di Legno, the Gavia, Aprica, Trento, Sorriva. And
east from there, you have to go to Valdobiadenne for the prosecco.
Tuscany
is fantastic riding on small roads and through tiny villages. You have to go to
Florence for its history, art and architecture.
But it is over run with tourists and that it is painful. So also take the time to venture outside of
the core area to the outer bands of the city.
You’ll like it there. But popular
villages like Montepulciano, Siena, San Gimignano are not worth the time. These villages
are interesting only for what they used to be.
There are no “villages” any more, just shops selling junk to tourists
because these are ancient and beautiful villages that have figured out that the
tourist economy is more vibrant (at present…) than anything else. Skip them entirely and stay in the
countryside.
Lucca
is unique, beautiful, and unspoiled.
Definitely put it on your list of places to see. It is small and authentic and the
architecture and narrow streets will fascinate you.
Cinque
Terre. It is pretty visually, but the
towns are the same as in Tuscany – way too crowded. It is worth going to Corniglia and hiking to
the other villages to look at them from the trails, but the towns themselves
are like being in Disneyland. But again,
once you get out of town the real beauty of Italy can be found in the small
villages where nobody can understand a word you say, but when you smile they
smile and do whatever is needed to get things right. Where the small roads are uncrowded and make
bike riding a pleasure. Where it is
challenging to find a place to sleep but there are so many options.
And
a final note on Italian drivers. We’ve
heard many folks say that bike riding can be dangerous given the zany
drivers. We experienced just the opposite. In 900 plus miles of road riding we did not
have one incident – oh, I might have said “screw you” to a guy in a roundabout,
but drivers showed us complete courtesy, even when we slowed them to a crawl on
narrow country roads. Truck drivers were
the best and they take pains to make sure that riders have enough room. Again, even when we slow them to a crawl on a
hill. Riding is wonderful here.
We’re
looking forward to heading home tomorrow – it is time to be at home to see
family, friends, and all of our critters.
We’ve had fun with the blog – hope that you have enjoyed it. Until next year,
Ciao!