Nothing’s the Matterhorn

Posted on July 9, 2014 by liguriansun

In the fall, I received a text from my great friend Kat in New York City. She just started a new job and did not have many travel days, although she found an amazing airfare ($676) to Milan. “I can’t turn this down. When are you available this January?”

Many friends don’t like to travel to Italy when it’s not peak season, especially in the dreary days of winter, when even the Italian Rivieria can get soggy and cool. Yet such a great friend, Kat was only interested in seeing me and catching up, knowing we will always find great adventures.

Kat arrived last March and got lucky with great, warm, blue-skied weather for her visit as I posted here: Whirlwind Weekend

Again, this year–although I know Kat just wanted to see me–I was determined to find something wonderful to do during that short time. Why not take advantage of the winter weather and the proximity to the mountains? “Kat, do you want to ski the alps?”

“Why not?” she said. “I’ve always wanted to.”

This was extra special because for the second year in a row, I had to sadly miss our annual ski retreat in New Hampshire with great friends. Every President’s Day weekend in February, we would drive up to the cozy hilltop farmhouse where my friend’s mother lives, arriving after midnight on a Friday, waking to sunshine and mountain panoramas on Saturday, bacon and eggs for breakfast while someone prepared our sandwiches, then we’d drive to Mount Sunapee for a day on the slopes, chatting on the ski lift, laughing over our crazy antics, and convening for lunch and hot chocolate in the cafe. As the day grew to a close, legs weary and ice on the slopes, we’d call “last run” and meet in the lodge for the best moment of the day– the orgasmic crying out of “Ski Boots!” as they are removed. After, we’d indulge in craft brews and live music for Apres Ski, then eventually a winding car ride home with a stop at the grocery store to prepare dinner. Taking turns for showers, we’d gather around the dining room table, rosy cheeked and vino filled, for philosophical conversation, great laughs, and the kind of moments that can only happen on a retreat like this with special friends. The following day, we’d sleep in then depending on the weather, we’d head out to the slopes for a half day, go tubing, or find other random activities in sleepy New Hampshire, followed by another great dinner.

Since I’ve been gone, the crew always calls me from the slopes or Apres ski shouting “Ski Boots!” Kat and I have had many great conversations on chairlifts, and we were eager to do the same in the Alps. I chose Cervinia, the Italian side of the Matterhorn, with an easy bus connection from Milan. (The Swiss side is Zermatt). I told Kat to enjoy Milan when she arrived, then I would meet her after work.

Kat now works for a luxury travel company in New York. For work, she was able to get us two free nights in luxury hotels. Kat told me to cancel the bookings I made at budget hotels by the train station because on Friday night, we were staying at The Four Seasons. Saturday, we kept our cozy hotel suite in Cervinia. Then on Sunday night, we were treated to a room at the Park Hyatt right next to the Duomo. Ahh, luxury!

At 3:35pm on Friday, I made my usual mad dash to the train station, arriving just in time to take the 4:10 train to Milan. Although, the 4:10 was not on time. It was 2 hours delayed due to heavy rain. Only in Italy would there be train delays because of rain. Meanwhile in Switzerland, the train goes up snowy mountains. Anyways, despite Trenitalia’s frequent success in aggravating me on my departure, I eventually arrived in Milan. After enjoying a bit of of the city and a few winks, Kat gave me a big hug at the station, then escorted me to The Four Seasons. This budget traveler–who often grabs rooms in hostels, sometimes even sharing a dorm–was absolutely mesmerized for the treat. This room can cost almost 500 euros. A snack, fruit and prosecco were waiting for us along with some delicious truffles. After indulging, Kat and I were exhausted yet made it out for dinner in a local restaurant. With good wine and conversation, we strolled back in the misty evening, enjoying living how the others live. (It’s not really the other half . . .)

Welcome from The Four Seasons

delicious chocolate truffles

The next morning, we awoke for a very early departure, but first Kat ordered the American breakfast to the room, where we indulged in French toast and bacon!

My backpack on the floor – a travel buddy since Australia 2002!

Next, we dragged our gear to the metro and then hopped on the bus that wound its way up into the alps. It was snowing when we arrived in cozy Cervinia, an idyllic welcome to a quaint town. We dropped our bags at the hotel, suited up in ski gear, and grabbed skis and passes to get on the slopes as soon as possible. The heavy snow meant an abundance of fresh powder. Yet it also meant almost zero visibility at times. I was sure there were beautiful views of the Matterhorn and nearby mountains. We just couldn’t see them.

Cervinia

Kat on the Ski lift

After playing on the slopes for a while, enjoying the fresh powder experience, we decided to go up as high as we could. We originally anticipated skiing to Switzerland, but sadly, those lifts were closed–so we would be stuck there with no real transfer back. Instead, we went up as far as we could to the high lifts on the Italian side of the Matterhorn. The altitude was very high, and as we emerged into the horizontal icy conditions, I felt lightheaded and lost my side vision. Skiers struggled, falling because apparently it was so steep. If I had the views, I might have been very intimidated, but for me, that worked to my advantage as I struggled just to focus in front of me. I was also so dizzy that I was extra cautious, and somehow made it down the steepest part, hair soaking wet er rather, frozen . . .along with my eyelashes.

We found our way to a mountain lodge. In many American ski resorts I’ve visited, such a lodge would have overpriced hot dogs, hamburgers and other processed, greasy foods with little flavor. Here, we had real Alpine meals. We indulged in bresaola (cured beef), salad, cheeses, and realized our restaurant was featured in Bon Appetit magazine. We just had to pose for a picture with the owners, who were so sweet and proud of their work.

Bresaola

Swiss Bliss.

The article in Bon Appetit

The owner. Kat has a cute one with all of us including the chef.

How did they even get supplies there? So high up. So delightful. after navigating the not so delightful squat toilet in ski boots and pants, we enjoyed the slopes for the rest of the day, although never got any views.

That evening, after a glorious “Ski Boots!” experience and a warm shower, we strolled through town, finding a quaint restaurant for fondue and great conversation.

flaming fondue

We were not interested in staying out late for dancing, although even sleepy Cervinia had that option.

The next morning, we awoke for a quaint breakfast, then decided to ski again! Why not!?

morning views from our bedroom

quaint decor at breakfast

We checked out of the hotel, back into our ski gear and up the slopes, and again . . .it was snowing. We enjoyed another amazing meal on another part of the mountain, although sadly . . . we still couldn’t ski to Switzerland.

dancing on the slopes — Italy loves to play music for skiers!

You can see the actual snowflakes!

We hopped off the slopes just in time to grab the bus back to Milan where we checked into the Park Hyatt before an amazing dinner. They recommended a restaurant in the museum Nove Cento, which had panoramic views of the Duomo along with absolutely amazing cuisine. The prices were very high, but the flavor, ambience and service were wonderful!

The Park Hyatt was right by the Duomo, so we had a relaxing walk through quaint neighborhoods, and tried to get some sleep before my very early wakeup call. Kat ordered us breakfast!

Then I grabbed the 6:10am train back to Genoa and work, napping along the way with sweet dreams and great memories of another fabulous whirlwind weekend!

A Weekend in Genoa

Posted on December 4, 2013 by liguriansun

When I first accepted my job offer in Genoa, I knew very little about the city other than salami and her seaside location near the 5 terre. A NYC colleague told me, “You have to see the movie with Colin Firth . . . it’s filmed in Genoa.”

Luckily, that movie happened to be streaming on Netflix, and I watched it over and over and over as I prepared for my departure. I was mesmerized by the medieval center, the stunning coastline, the scooters, and other aspects of the city. I couldn’t wait to immerse myself in La Superba!

Before my departure (as well as several times after) family and friends have shared this great NY Times Travel Article: 36 Hours in Genoa. I have hit many of these items, but a few remain (including the aquarium).

Anyways, with all of my crazy travels, weekends in Genoa are actually quite rare. I love exploring with a visitor, and this time it was with my Dad. Dad celebrated his 60th birthday just a couple of days after I left NY this summer. I was so sad to miss it, and I wanted to make it special. This visit was about seeing me, but also about seeing Europe and celebrating this milestone.

[important note: My parents are happily married of 37 years, but they do not travel together because of the cats. Ask me later . . .]

So, I came home from work and began preparing a special birthday dinner for Dad. I wrote a letter of recommendation for Fordham University for a student / daughter of my colleague. As a thank you, the mother gave me a jar of delicious homemade sauce.

I used that sauce to make some fresh pasta, and I whipped up one of my favorite treats: I take round focaccia (oily, crispy yum found only in Liguria . . . well, it’s only good here), and spread it with pesto (again, only good here). I slice tomatoes and bufala mozzarella (sometimes just regular fresh mozzarella), and spread on the focaccia followed by garlic powder and fresh ground pepper. I bake in the oven until it smells amazing and serve. It’s absolutely delicious.

I served these things for Dad along with salad and some beer. Then off to the city center for drinks with a bunch of my coworkers. Yet another fun al fresco night in Piazza del Erbe, the social center of Genoa.

The next morning, I made Dad coffee and French toast, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with cinnamon (can’t find maple syrup here). I finished the recommendation process for the student while Dad took a stroll down to the sea. Upon his return, we took the bus to the train station then transferred to the metro to the port. Genoa’s metro only has a few stops, but it’s convenient even if it doesn’t have any maps at the stations! Once down there, we visited the resident submarine at the sea museum.

Watch your head!

The museum was such a surprise. After a visit to the sub, we had an hour and a half to explore. We didn’t realize that we spent almost an hour on the first floor at the Columbus exhibit; as we finished that first floor, two workers came to tell us that we had to hurry as there were only 45 minutes left and 3 more floors to see.

World Traveler

Replicas of Columbus’s ships

It was well-layed out, interesting, engaging, and fun. The top floor featured a replica of a ship that immigrants would have taken to the USA and Ellis Island. I was retracing the steps of my great Grandfather who came from Podenzano (near Piacenza). He left the port of Genoa for Ellis Island!

My great grandparents came over in similar quarters

The museum closed before we got to finish, rushing a bit at the end, so I will certainly be back. What a wonderful suprrise!

Then to dinner along the port, in one of the most stunning settings — something I will miss dearly whenever I decide to move on from my life here in Genoa. We enjoyed absolutely fantastic appetizers (fried vegetables), a great meal and ambience.

pernod!

We had great conversation, and then dessert. I had pernod flambet — it was like absinthe and I couldn’t feel my lips. I was perfectly content as was Dad. What a nice life.

Back to my apartment and to sleep.

The next morning, we had cereal and coffee, then out for a scooter ride. I took Dad onto Corso Europa, the fastest highway I can go on with my 125 — then we wound our way up a local mountain before heading back. It was exhilarating. Come along for a ride with us:

Then back for our bags and to the Genoa airport for a quick flight on Volotea to Palermo, Sicily — where Dad’s maternal grandparents emigrated from!

Without Reservations: Travels of an Independent Woman

Posted on September 15, 2013 by liguriansun

Back in Italy for year 2. Three weeks after landing, I’m getting settled back into my routine, learning to let go of home again, and moving forward. I had such a relaxing, restful summer with the people I love most, so it broke my heart to leave again. Yet Genoa welcomed me with sunshine and stunning views, and along with some wonderful people, she reminded me that this is home too.

My flight landed on the 25th of August, and I began work on Monday the 26th — a week preparing for our students with evenings swimming in the Mediterranean or scooting about with Stella. The next weekend, I was lucky enough to return to Venice as one of my best Fordham friends and her boyfriend were about to depart for a 2 week Adriatic cruise. We shared an apartment one vaporetto stop away from the train station, and enjoyed a delightful Friday night strolling the streets, searching for the most perfect restaurant while catching up. I was jealous of their upcoming cruise, but Kristen reminded me that I live in Italy. Even if I had to go to work on Monday, it was the start of a new school year at a job I love, a far cry from the chaos and stress of the life I left behind in the overcrowded schools as one of many frazzled and under appreciated NYC teachers. On Saturday the 31st, before they boarded the “People Mover” to their cruise, Kristen handed me her copy of Without Reservations, a book she mentioned over dinner in the US this summer. A woman leaves her job for about 9 months, to follow her dream of immersing in several European locales without reservations. She was going to avoid planning and to see what happens.

I began the book yesterday. The best and worst aspect of living alone far from home is Saturday morning. I wake up in my cozy, renovated apartment with its terra cotta and marble floors, exposed brick, and garden views. I wake up too early due to the ever present bells, birds, and scooters. I make some coffee. Maybe turn on Netflix or Apple TV. I check to see if I got any iMessages or texts on WhatsApp. Scroll through email. Scroll through my Twitter and Facebook feeds. And it’s only been 15 minutes. The weekend looms before me, all mine for whatever I want to do, whether that is nap on the couch, stare at the wall, or travel somewhere. But as exciting as independence is, it’s also lonely. We are wired for family. And I left mine in the States.

I went to move my scooter, but it was so beautiful and sunny that I couldn’t just go back inside after circling the block, so I rode along the coast. I hit a snag of traffic and tried something new . . . passing the huge line of cars, crossing into oncoming traffic cautiously, and relishing the true pure joy of owning a scooter. Winding high in the Ligurian Hills, with the Mediterranean to my right, glittering in the sun, I could smell flowers and fireplaces. I saw my reflection in the rearview mirror, and I was smiling. I paid a price for this, but what bliss! As I reached Recco, known for inventing delectable focaccia formaggio with its flaky crust and liquidy stracchino, I climbed high into the hills on unexplored little roads, treating myself to sublime views. I stopped Stella and was about to reach under the seat for my iPhone but realized I didn’t have it. I just stepped out for a minute . . . didn’t plan this. So, free from social networks, free from sharing the experience, I was able to fully immerse myself in it and enjoy in the moment. It felt more special and pure as a result.

I wound my way down the hill, past super fit bikers challenging their lycra-clad quads, and headed back home where I changed into a swimsuit to hit the beach before the good sun was gone. The pebbles were strewn with seaweed, providing a softer than usual bed. I fell asleep to the cadence of Italian voices. When I awoke, I practiced deciphering the sounds, realizing that I understand more than just snippets of conversation these days. “Watch me, watch me uncle!” “I can’t believe what she said.” “We had ravioli and prosciutto and [kisses fingers] it was delicious.” “Children, it’s time to go.” Real conversations.

I waded into the choppy water for a good workout. Instead of just swimming, I have been using the aqua-size skills I learned from Mom’s class at the Y. And since the salt water makes us more buoyant, I can do these exercises without the flotation belt. It’s fun, and I can do both cardio and strength training while enjoying the stunning scenery all around me. After a half hour of cross country skiing, reverse jacks, hamstring curls, etc . . .I swam back and towel dried. When I reached into my bag, I saw the book from Kristen, and as the sun turned into the Golden Hour, I began. Over a year later, I’m still in awe at where I am and what I am doing. The old me would have read this book with complete longing, traveling vicariously through the author. Now I read it as a companion to my own journeys.

I was drawn in right from the opening inscription:

There are years that ask questions and years that answer. -Zora Neal Hurston

This is my time for answering, I suppose. While I am temporarily rooted in Italy, I have the freedom to wander on weekends and breaks, or even after work. I have the mental space to reflect and allow my mind to wander. And after all the hard work of settling in last year and prepping for 5 different classes while learning the IB and catching up students who were behind . . . ahh . . . I have space and free time this year. It is wonderful, and I have earned it.

When Alice Steinbach left for Paris, a friend said “Cheers to a successful trip.”

What I didn’t say was that “success” was not something I was seeking from this venture. In fact, I was determined not to judge this trip, or its outcome, in terms of success or failure.

As I noted in previous posts, expectations breed disappointment. I am trying to take this adventure as it comes: the good and bad, the wild and relaxing, the painful pining and euphoric awe . . . filling my days with wonder and writing my story. I’m writing some of it here as I reflect along the way. But my mother reminded me, “Your story is not yet written.” Who knows what is next? All I know are my plans for class and the trips that I have booked. Sitting here on my couch, shipped from NYC, with my cozy favorite blanket and a bottle of Barbera del Monferrato vino . . . I relish my freedom and independence. I don’t want to live like this forever, and I won’t, so cogliere l’attimo. Back to my book.

Spring Break 2013

Posted on June 28, 2013 by liguriansun

I posted my spring break memories in April so they are in the appropriate timeline. However, I’m posting the links here so you can read the journey if you are interested:

Part 1 – Genoa

Part 2 – Roma

Part 3 – Swiss Alps

Part 4 – Genoa Medieval Center and Milan

Send me on my way

Posted on June 21, 2013 by liguriansun

Today’s a special post. Live from my office at my school on the last day of work. 10 months to the day since I boarded the plane in a whirlwind of emotions, leaving for my new life in Italy. The amazing, challenging, fun and incredible year has come to a close. My 9th year as a teacher. 6th year as a high school teacher. 2nd year teaching middle school. And my first year in Italy! It was a huge and exciting decision, and I can’t imagine if I had not accepted this amazing offer which has changed my life so positively. So much joy, beauty, adventure, some loss and lots of reflection. I spent much time thinking about NYC and my family, missing home and the familiar comforts. I spent much time getting excited about my travels and exploring the gorgeous landscape and culture of Liguria, but I was also always counting back hours to see what time it was in NY, looking at the weather, and messaging friends at home. Yet over all that time, Liguria became home. Tomorrow, I have a ticket to fly home. Where is home?

When I purchased this ticket — Thanks Dad! — my father then said, “You should have stayed a week or so to enjoy Italy and your scooter . . . or even to travel.” To be honest, I’m low on my travel budget, everyone’s heading off, and I just was really looking forward to a long, relaxing, extended time in NYC and Jersey with family and friends I have missed so much. And my cats! But now the weather is absolutely stunning, day after day. The turquoise blue waters call, and I dive in after work, then bask in the warm glow of sunshine sprawled on warm, smooth rocks and pebbles. I head to my friend’s house for vino on her balcony, which faces a castle, as we watch the sky turn pink then an inky indigo, long after 9:30pm before walking home under the stars. I stroll uphill to my apartment, past balconies strewn with beach towels, couples walking dogs (everyone has a dog here in Genoa), and smell the flowers in full, lush bloom. Genoa is at her finest right now, and I have chosen to leave her. And that hurts.

One of the many beautiful beaches along Genova’s coast.

Genoa will be stunning when I return in August, as I have learned from last year’s arrival. I was able to swim well into October. It was sunny almost every day in those months, and it will still be lovely. I have so many adventures, good times, wonderful conversations, beaches, lakes, mountains, hikes, fire pits, great food and smiles waiting for me at home. I guess I’m just really realizing the huge effect of a transatlantic move. My heart belongs here as well as there. I’m very grateful that I have another year to return and enjoy, and now that I am settled, the lessons are planned, the books read, and the details sorted — I can enjoy it all even more!

I’m overwhelmed with emotions. Last night, I just said goodbye to a choir friend who is moving back to Lithuania. (A great excuse to travel one weekend in the fall!). We had an excellent sushi meal followed by Neopolitan pastries, and then stood in the parking lot, lingering, delaying the inevitable. Now, my classrooms are cleaned, posters torn off the wall, drawers emptied, my office tidied, papers purged . . . and it was all a crazy trip down memory lane with flashes from the past school year. It really was wonderful and joyful. This is a special school.

At graduation, we said farewell to our seniors. Administration prepared a special slide show, showing pictures of the kids through the years. 3 of them started at age 3! I managed to hold back the tears until that rolled across the screen to one of my favorite songs “Send Me on my Way.” A few days later, the seniors returned to our farewell ceremony, to give some more speeches, lots of hugs, and then . . . on to their lives. It was an honor to be their teacher, to get to know them, and to be part of their lives. They have touched my heart, and while we had so much work to do, I always looked forward to class.

It is my last day of work with my colleagues, friendly faces I met on an August day before sharing focaccia formaggio by the sea, sharing aperitivi in Piazza del Erbe, dancing till early morning, laughing in the office during stressful times, and over time, becoming cherished friends. Off to lunch, one final meal for the school year.

Send me on my way now, but just for the summer.

Spring Break: Genova, Roma, and the Swiss Alps (part 1 – Genoa)

Posted on April 9, 2013 by liguriansun

One of my best friends, Brendan, has always wanted to visit Italy. When I got the job offer last January, he already started talking about his visit. We decided on Spring Break, so I could be the female Rick Steves, and take him around my beautiful local hood as well as Rome and the Alps, as he requested.

Our spring break began on Friday March 29, which gave me a day to chill and take the train to Milan. Brendan got the shortest and best airfare to Milan, arriving at 7am on Saturday March 30, Easter Eve. Since I was off and eager to enjoy the city, I said I’d meet him at the airport. I booked a single room at the Bio City hotel, an eco friendly, brand new hotel that was just before its official opening. At this point, I let out a big “Ahh” as I looked around the cozy room. The weather was not cooperating, with a chilly drizzle, but I was just glad that my much-needed vacation had started. For teachers, breaks always come just when you think you can’t handle another day. I checked the mini bar, and for reasonable prices, I saw natural soda and super yummy sesame seed bars, which I devoured while watching BBC news. I tweeted a couple of pictures and fell asleep knowing I had to wake early tomorrow to get to the bus for the airport.

Brendan walked through the gate, and I ran to give him a hug, amazed at how guys can pack all they need in a little carry on duffle bag. Well done. The weather was cloudy, but I was hoping the rain would hold off. We caught up on the bus ride, then by the time we arrived in the city, the rain turned into a downpour. Luckily, I still had the hotel room, so we had it for a few hours where I figured Brendan could take a nap and I could enjoy my free breakfast. As soon as he passed out, though, they started drilling. (They were still working on the hotel, so I knew this might happen). He managed to fall back asleep . . . until the belt sander came on. “We’ll find this funny later,” he said. But clearly not now. The poor guy was exhausted, having not slept on the plane. So I went outside and asked the guys if they could move, which they so kindly did.

At 11, Brendan was in a sound sleep but I had to rouse him for check out. “You said I could sleep,” he said like a school boy talking to his mom, wanting to go to school late. I know the feeling. I remember telling my mother, in my sleep, that “The lake is closed today,” when she tried to wake me up for my lifeguarding job and I knew I just couldn’t make it.

I felt so bad, but I had to get him, up. We checked out, and luckily they didn’t tack on a fee for bringing a second person into the single room. Then we had to brave the rain again. We originally considered the thermal spa, which I love and have posted about before here: My New New York . But it was not the weather for wandering or sightseeing, so we boarded a train for Genoa, gliding through the soggy landscape to Liguria.

2 hours later, we boarded a bus to my neighborhood as exhausted zombie Brendan said, “How much longer?” It might be initially more convenient to fly to Milan, but ultimately it’s a big pain in the butt, unfortunately. Once in my hood, we had to find food. As it was the day before Easter, nothing was open, so we walked through the hills for 10 minutes to Jungle Pizza, which is always open with its 100 varieties. But alas, even that was closed. Back to my apartment where I offered some of the food I had purchased and Brendan passed out into a deep sleep. I used this time to go on my second ever scooter ride!

The clouds cleared, the sun came out, and I enjoyed stunning views over the sea as I tried to keep steady and not tip over. Back at the apartment, I had to wake up Brendan again, afraid that if I didn’t he wouldn’t sleep the night. Arrival day is often very hard, especially when the weather is not helping. Starving, we walked down the hill to restaurants by the sea, looking for something open. He gave up meat for Lent, so we went for some pizza or pasta at 5 Maggio, a place I had enjoyed many times, along the sea by the monument. We shared pasta, cooked in foil in the brick oven, foccaccia formaggio and one other kind of pizza as well as creme brulee for dessert.

Brendan wanted to meet one of my friends, and I wasn’t sure who was in town but remembered that Robin was both in town and nearby. At 11pm, I called her then we showed up at her apartment (with its splendid castle view), and got her ready to go out dancing down by the sea. At that time, Brendan felt it was time to ditch his Lenten beard, so Robin lent him a disposable razor. And off we went.

The club was fun, and unlike some of the other ones further downtown, where guys like to come up and grab you while you are dancing, the people were older and a bit more chill — but the vibe and music were great. We even got free shots from the bartender because we were from NY! 🙂 We walked Robin home, then up the hill to my apartment where Brendan realized it was Easter, running to the fridge and tearing open the packages of cured meats I had bought for his arrival.

Easter Sunday bells rang at noon, but Brendan was still sleeping off his mega jet lag. He had tried to warn me it could get like this, but I had never seen jet lag this bad. Around 1:30, he woke up and we tossed the football-sized Easter egg that I bought for a charity fundraiser at school. It broke to reveal the gift inside — a boxed silver-toned bracelet. Not bad. Apparently, these chocolate eggs are very popular as Easter treats for kids.

Soon we went outside into the warm sunshine for one of the prettiest days of our trip. Buona Pasqua!

We piled onto my scooter for my third ride, and my first ride with a passenger. Once I mastered the weight balance, we took it nice and slow, heading straight to Nervi. It was Brendan’s first time on a scooter, and he was thrilled. Once we parked, we went for a walk along the gorgeous passageiatta — bright turquoise water, waves crashing into the jagged rocks, Portofino in the distance, and families and friends, tourists and locals strolling along for a Happy Easter. The vibe was perfect. The flowers were blooming, but unfortunately so was Brendan’s hay fever. We didn’t let it get in the way of our fun, though.

Happy Easter!

We did not have reservations for dinner and were worried about finding quality food on a day when so many locals head to the restaurants. Luckily, even though we were in Italy, both of us were craving sushi, so we planned for that. While we were waiting for the restaurant to open (Many places in Genoa open for dinner at 7:30 and close by 9 or 10 for a small dining window), we wandered through gorgeous Nervi, through a local park watching families with their dogs, bacci balls, and picnics. Then we found a little church on top of a hill and decided to see if there was an evening mass. We walked in sometime near the beginning, and enjoyed a special, beautiful Easter service.

The sun was starting to tinge the sky pink, promising an awesome sunset. I regret not heading back to the passegiatta because I know Brendan would have appreciated it, but we were already at the restaurant, where we enjoyed a lobster roll among some others. As Brendan gave up meat for Lent, he also gave up sushi, so this was a treat. And for me, who was growing quite sick of Italian food, I was happy for the change of pace.

Back to the scooter and home to prepare for tomorrow’s trip to Rome! The fastest train was at 7am, so it was gonna be another early morning for us. I popped Mad Men on Netflix, and we enjoyed a chill evening.

Here’s a small slideshow with more photos:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

–to be continued in Part 2 – Roma–

-written 26 June, but posted in April for timeline purposes

Whirlwind Weekend

Posted on March 4, 2013 by liguriansun

When I departed for Genoa, one of my best friends Kat was there at the airport to send me off along with my parents. Kat gave me lots of luck and hugs, and said “I’ll be there soon. I’m also good with postcards.”

Kat kept good on both promises, with postcards arriving frequently to brighten my day and a whirlwind weekend visit planned. In the fall, Kat called and said “I can’t get much time off from work, but I’m coming. Alitalia has good fares. How about March 1st?”

Kat arrived fresh from JFK on a Friday and departed on Monday morning, for a fantastic, fun-filled weekend adventure. What perfect timing. Work was at its most chaotic of the year, with International Baccalaureate assessments and paperwork due — super high stakes work. As this was my first time through it, there were a lot of nitty gritty details and stressful aspects (work to be redone, late work, formatting) that I didn’t anticipate. All of us IB teachers were like zombies walking through the day. Usually, Friday arrived and I was relaxed and peaceful with a light schedule, all classes completed by 11:30. When Kat arrived from the airport, I was in a meeting with a student, and didn’t even have a minute free to run down to the office to notify them of Kat’s arrival fresh from the Genova airport. Luckily, she met the director who asked around and found me. When I exited the classroom with my student, there was Kat’s smiling face. How can she look so awesome and fresh from an overnight flight? Amazing.

Originally, Kat said she was up for anything and just wanted to spend time with me. But this was her first time in Italy. She was also a Medieval Studies major (along with Spanish), so I knew she would appreciate a lot of the wonder of Siena and Florence. In the days before her departure, I said, “I have a crazy idea. Want to spend a night in Siena? It’s beautiful. Then we can visit Florence before heading home on Sunday.” When I saw that the train to Florence stopped in Pisa, we planned for that as well. 3 nights, 4 cities. And we did it!

I gave Kat a quick tour of the school, which she noted was beautiful. She also asked, “How do you like it with all the little kids?” As a group of 3-year-olds walked by in a neat little line like ducklings. “I love it. It always brightens my day,” I responded. The director had generously given us lunch tickets to enjoy a meal in the cafeteria. I had hallway duty upstairs for the first part, so Kat took the opportunity to meet many of my coworkers, noting that they were extremely sweet, friendly and positive. That truly is the vibe of our school.

I joined Kat when my duty was over, and she was in mid conversation about all the wonders of Siena. One coworker said, “You will eat well. This lunch food doesn’t count as your first Italian meal.” It’s ok for school food, but this is true.

I walked Kat down to my apartment, which is just minutes from the school, where she settled down for a short winter’s nap, and I went back to work until the end of the day.

Back to my apartment, I roused Kat as we prepared for an evening in Nervi, a nearby resort neighborhood along the sea — where I take all my guests on their first night much like the school brought me when I first arrived. There is no better welcome to Genoa and the Ligurian Coastal beauty.

We walked along the passegiata and walked into a quaint seaside restaurant called Chandra, with views of the waves crashing against the rocks. With a slightly Indian vibe, we enjoyed the quaint decor, snacked on the free snacks with our drinks, and then ordered our meal, featuring focaccine (friend dough filled with soft, yummy stracchino cheese). I had chicken tandoori and Kat had a pasta dish, I believe.

I’m showing off the beautiful new necklace Kat bought me at the Met as a hostess gift along with plenty of other practical and fun goodies and meals to spoil me.

We chatted, caught up, enjoyed the sea, and then enjoyed the live music as it began to play. With jet lag for Kat and general fatigue for me, though, we couldn’t last through more than a couple of songs. Back to Genoa for bed. A big day ahead of us on Saturday.

We were blessed with glorious spring-like weather that weekend, with temperatures climbing into the low 60s, a delightful break from the soggy 50s we had in the week leading up to her visit. Saturday morning we had breakfast, then headed into the city to see Genoa. I showed Kat the medieval center, the port, Columbus’s alleged birthplace, and we even had some time for boot shopping . . . while there were some good potential options, we didn’t find exactly what Kat was looking for but we enjoyed the browsing experience.

Back on a bus, we grabbed our overnight bags, then back on a bus for Brignole train station, then to Siena via Pisa. I slept most of the train ride, absolutely exhausted from work. Kat began her many postcards (I believe she sent 30 something). The sun was in that glorious golden hour, and with our latitude, it lingers longer than in other parts of the world. We consulted the map, and made a mad dash for the iconic slanted architecture.

It leans a bit more every year, and as I had not been since 2004, I could really feel like it was leaning noticeably more. After posing for the obligatory “let’s hold this thing up” pictures, we strolled back through town, past postcard shops and touristy knick knack pushers, back to the train and towards Tuscany and Siena.

At one random station, we stopped to get a snack and read the board for our connection. Our train was cancelled! Ahh, Italy . . .always full of frustrations. We had to sit in the station and wait a bit for the next train, but we were grateful there was a next train. We rolled into Siena a bit later than we anticipated, but glad to be there with fresh air and stars peeking out of the inky sky. Having not been there since 2002, I was very pleasantly surprised by the redo of the train station. Previously, you had to board a bus, grab a taxi, or walk up a very long hill to the city, with the station settled at the base of a big hill. But now, they have constructed an elaborate system of escalators and people movers that bring you easily and conveniently to the top of the hill, where you can then stroll through the medieval wall and right into town, all lit up in its serene romantic beauty.

We were tired from the travel, but captivated by the magic of the city. Siena is special, and I will always choose staying her over Florence. It’s a popular day trip place, but to stay allows you to experience the real magic when the tourist crowds disperse, and you can wander and enjoy in peace and serenity. Kat had articles from the New York Times Travel Section and she had a recommendation for a restaurant in the main square. We found it, and enjoyed an absolutely delicious meal with a view of City Hall. Then a short stroll just outside of town to our hotel, which we were so excited about. We chose a quaint b&b with 360 degree views of the hillside.

Upon arrival at our hotel, we experienced a bit of a snafu. They accidentally gave away our room to someone who arrived looking for a room. The person working the desk was not a regular, so she made a mistake. I was so exhausted and irritated by that point, but Kat works in hotels and knows this can happen. They rebooked us in a nearby hotel in the same area. We ended up with two single rooms, and the rooms were on the road instead of secluded like the other hotel. However, the quality was excellent as was the service. The original hotel was very apologetic and offered us discounts on future stays. So it’s all good — and these things are part of the travel adventure. I slept very well, and we awoke to a beautiful breakfast with views over the hills and valley in the bright sunshine. Delicious. No complaints. Another gorgeous day awaited us.

After some photos in the garden, we saw the civic museum with its famous mural. Kat educated and entertained me with her wealth of medieval knowledge, enhancing the experience. We then boarded a train to Florence and headed to the Duomo for a quick photo stop then straight for the Uffizi Gallery, where we had booked “Skip the line” tickets for a nominal fee. This was my 5th time in Florence, and I was finally getting to see the Uffizi. So much outstanding, famous and beautiful art to contemplate. We spent hours there soaking it all up, took some photos outside along the river, stopped for some yummy pizza, then back to the train. Yes, there was unfortunately a lot of clock-watching on my part to make sure we could do everything — and it wasn’t as laid back as I would have liked to be. But we made it happen, it was a great adventure, Kat was in awesome spirits, and I had a blast.

We rolled into Genoa that evening, and instead of going straight to sleep, I hung out in the living room with Kat for a sleepover style late-night chat.

Here is a slideshow of our adventure:

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Kat left for the airport 5:30 the next morning, with a stop in Paris long enough for her to enjoy the city then back to New York. What an amazing, fabulous adventure. Thanks for visiting!

“I’ll be back!” she said. I’m looking forward to our next adventure, whether it’s a weekend somewhere in Italy or Europe, or a longer break. We shall see. Until I post our next adventure, you may be interested in checking out Kat’s photography blog: http://hhphotogsummerstreets2013.tumblr.com

-written 26 June 2013 but posted in March for appropriate timeline

Under the Ligurian Sun

My life and travels while living La Dolce Vita in Genoa, Italy.

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