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Genova “Genoa” Diary – Part 1

About an hour and a half from Milan, we arrived by train in Genova on a Saturday night. A bag in one hand and the other tucked tightly inside my jacket pocket. We maneuvered through the subway station dodging people from left to right. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but, it seems the space in Genova was tighter than normal and I mean, “close” where you can hear them breathing next to you. A few times on the way to our Airbnb apartment, I lost my balance and tripped. The roads were uneven and damaged. Although, a few women still wore high heels (props to them). I’m going to be blunt. Genova is not your picture perfect city nor is it considered pretty. We also passed through prostitutes in some of the narrow streets and I wouldn’t suggest coming here alone. However, despite of the city’s imperfections, they are still active with tourists and youngsters.
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Upon entering the Medieval Gates.IMG_1871IMG_1898IMG_1877
Piazza de FerrariIMG_1879
You can go in circles within Genova but, you’ll always loop back around Piazza de Ferrari.IMG_1880
Piazza de FerrariIMG_1881IMG_1882
Christopher Columbus’ homeIMG_1868IMG_1862genova2genova_pestoI had to try a pesto dish because they’re known for it and yes, it lived up to my expectations.IMG_1850IMG_1869IMG_1849
St. Lawrence Cathedral

I admit, Genova was my least favorite city I’ve visited since I arrived in Italy. It was one of those moments where it tested my patience, especially, when the waitress during lunch time couldn’t get a simple salad order correctly and when, I wanted no ketchup on my cheeseburger at McDonalds. In addition, my friend didn’t bother booking a return train ticket and I couldn’t seem to understand why. When we decided to return home, we were faced with the fact that the earliest train ride back was much later than we anticipated. I had a stint of frustration at the train station and while, I waited for my friend to sort out the tickets, some lady tried to ask for my help. She was talking so fast that I couldn’t even understand if it was in Italian or something else. Eventually, she understood that I didn’t speak her language. Normally, this wouldn’t bother me because heck, I’ve had worse situations and I’ve read a few blogs where they had experienced the disadvantage in traveling, well, this was mine. Mostly, it was due to the fact that overall, I didn’t feel comfortable. But, sometimes these things need to happen because, I’ve never been more sure about the decision I’ve made about coming here.
More info. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genoa

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