Genoa

Medieval alleyways, seafaring history, and the home of pesto

A stiff breeze catches the rigging of neatly arrayed yachts. Gulls call in the warm air. The scent of sea salt and freshly baked focaccia breathes past you. St. George’s bunting decks the cobbled alleyways. The English say it’s their flag, but the Genovese know better.

Genova La Superba. “The Proud”. And proud it may well be. In this city, they know their history. Before Garibaldi made Italy one unified power, it was a boiling peninsula of armed conflict. Genova (“Genoa” in English), Venice, Amalfi and Pisa were the 4 great maritime republics. Genova’s old port still speaks of that era.

Amid modern freighters, private yachts and fishing boats, you’ll swear you’ve seen the flutter of topsails and banners, the bob of a crow’s nest. You’re almost sure you heard the clang of a bell as a wooden galeone heaved to and surged towards the New World, cannons bristling.

“Bracini corti”, other Italians joke of the Genovese. That’s “short arms” to you and us – arms too short to reach their pockets, if you catch our drift. Just be careful who you say that in front of. No wonder Christopher Columbus, a Genova son, had to chase funding from the Spanish for his America voyage.

Take in the seafront – the Bay of Genova is every bit as beautiful as the Bay of Naples (be careful who you say that in front of too). Its grand, pastel-coloured apartment buildings guard the way to the “Vicoli”, the lanes. This historic tangle of cobblestone promises boutique shops and local restaurants.

Focaccia and pesto as green as emerald. Churches and porticoes. And much more besides. It all awaits you within, beyond the shoreline. But we’re not telling you anything else – come and see it for yourself.