Chapter 2: Genova

I will never understand why we translate city names out of their native language. Road signs are x10 more confusing when you're a young handsome American lad who doesn't know if he's supposed to be heading to "Genoa" or "Genova". Despite the linguistical flaw, I made the two hour trip to  GenOVA in a skin-blistering four hours and twenty minutes. This is thanks in part to the fact that my scoot's little 125cc engine can only scoot so fast. This means that I'm banned (no big deal, I've spent a week in Italy and I'm already banned from something) from using the high-speed motorways and must resort to the smaller Strada Provinciale or SP roads.

I don't mind taking these SP roads because they force me to really take my time and enjoy the Italian countryside. The roads to Genova were especially bendy, which made them a hotbed for gutsy motorcyclists that pass you on blind corners as casually as if they were stopping for a stop light. For my first trip I felt like I did alright - I managed to stay upright which is always a win and, by my calculations, only 10.4 motorcycles passed me per hour. When I pulled over for lunch I think my scooter was the only vehicle that had under 100 Horse Power.

Genova itself was a mixture of beautiful and interesting. Interestingly beautiful if you will. The city itself was HUGE! When I came out of the tunnel and into the view of the city I let out an audible gasp. I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't this:

The city is also on the coast, so there were, of course, some very Italian-esk beautiful beach towns like Boccadasse and Portofino. My hostel manager said he would rather starve than buy a meal at any of these beach towns, so I headed his advice and brought my cool little sack lunch - a turkey and provolone sandwich, an apple, and some gross Italian chips - and burned daylight.

That brings me to the interesting part. I'm officially naming Genova the unofficial scooter capital of the world. The place had more scooters that people, that's an unofficial fact. I rolled up thinking I would be a mini-celebrity in my sweet little throwback Vespa, but I was vanilla ice cream compared to some of these scooters. I almost wish I would have broken down here because there must've been a repair shop every thousand feet. Knowing my luck though I'm sure I'll break down somewhere West of Tahiti.

It was also just a weird place in general - the tourist attractions ranged from historical UNESCO-protected sights to an exhibit for the blind to the largest aquarium in Europe. Also, I almost got round-house kicked by some Italian dude who yelled at me for god knows what, so I'd pin that under weird too. I can't believe I thought of this place as an in-between city.

I'm a week or so behind on my recaps, but I kind of like doing it this way. Maybe it's because I like to chew on the intricacies of my travel experience and digest it into the belly of introspection and thought-provoking discussion, or maybe it's because I'm super lazy. Either way, my recap of Cinque Terre is on the horizon.