Plucky Survivors See Europe Day 22: Rome to Genoa

I knew it was going to be a long day of driving – over 300 miles – but I, being me, turned what should have been a five-hour drive into a eight-hour trek. 

I did a bunch of research last night and found a road that is, essentially, Pacific Coast Highway only it winds up the western coast of Italy along the Mediterranean.  Well, the Ligurian Sea if you want to get really technical about it, but it’s the Mediterranean.  And the good news is that it doesn’t go through any limited traffic zones, or at least that’s what the research tells me.  If I get an angry call from Europcar at some point, I guess I’ll know that the research was wrong.

Getting out of Rome was even more difficult than getting into it because I had to cross most of the city to get where I was going and it was the morning commute to boot.  For surviving it, I treated myself to cookies and plan on treating PluckyMobile to a nice bath as soon as I find a car wash.

The drive north out of Rome is not exactly inspiring – a lot of industry and agriculture.  Then the topography starts to change, with more hills and more villages sprinkled about.

Then suddenly, I drove around a curve and there it was – the Mediterranean.  I haven’t seen it in almost 30 years.  It’s quite beautiful.

All along the coast are charming little seaside burgs like Santa Serva, Santa Marinella, and Civitavecchia.  I was grateful that none of the big cruise ships docked at the latter were from a certain company that shall remain nameless.  It would’ve flared my PTSD.

The Italian PCH merges back into the highway as it heads north through the Appenine Mountains, with more of that classic Italy countryside I can’t get enough of.

Since I was headed right by it, I figured it would silly of me not to stop at the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  It’s a tower.  It leans.  Cool.

The one thing that bugged me was all the people attempting to frame up one of those stupid photos that make it look like someone is holding up the pyramid.  Stop it.  It’s been done before.  It isn’t cute and you’re just in the way.

I had lunch at a little café about a block away.  Most of what they offered were pizzas and pasta and I still had two more hours of driving, so I didn’t think that was a good idea.  I went with another chicken Caesar salad and it was really good for a tourist joint in the shadow of the big leaning thing.

After leaving Pisa, the highway goes northwest, skirting the ends of the Liguarian Alps as they meet the sea.  More twisting roads, lots of tunnels, very high bridges that tweaked by vertigo, and some incredible views of the blue water followed.  It’s a stunning drive and I’m happy that the pummeling rainstorms that I drove through didn’t last long.

I got to Geneva around 5:30pm and got caught in a cluster-you-know-what of several cars arriving at the hotel at the same time.  The harried valet guy had me park in a bus zone but then a spot open in front of the hotel and I moved the car, but then then he yelled at me for that and I got so flustered I actually walked away from the car and made it into the hotel before I realized I hadn’t turned it off.  I had the keys but the car was still unlocked and running.  I can’t believe it was still there when I went back out.

I got even more flustered when they couldn’t find my reservations.  “Not again,” I thought. 

Turns out I was at the wrong hotel.  The one I wanted is a sister property located next door.  So, I schlepped my bags down a set of stairs, down the crowded cobblestone street, and then up a bunch of stairs to the right place.

The Hotel Continental is about a thousand years old, or so it seems, and while it isn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination, it is a little worn around the edges.  The elevator is a relic from a century long past, although I’m not sure which one.

I was hungry so I went out to do a little exploring and find some food.

My thoughts on Genoa, or at least the part I saw… No.  The old town area is a warren of little alleys and side streets that are dirty, filled with less than savory characters offering you everything from iPads to sex.  Yes, I quite accidently found the alley where the prostitutes hang out.  Lots of women propositioned me but I didn’t know how to say, “You’re barking up the wrong big, gay tree” in Italian so I just shook my head and moved on.

I won’t say I felt unsafe, specifically, but I certainly became hyper aware of my surroundings and tried to find my way out of there as quickly as possible.

I did wander by the waterfront.  There’s a Spanish Galleon moored there.  I found out later it is a movie prop.  It was built in 1985 for the Roman Polanski’s “Pirates” and is now a tourist attraction in Genoa.  Sure.  Why not.

What I didn’t find was food. Every restaurant I walked by was either closed or getting ready to close or didn’t look terribly appetizing.  So, I walked back to the hotel and found a little place half a block away that served focaccia, which is apparently very popular here.  I saw it on the menus of several places that weren’t open and some smaller joints are exclusively focaccia.

The place was called E Prie de Ma and I got the focaccia with ham and cheese inside.  It was delicious and I want to try to make one, although I’d add more stuff inside and maybe serve it with a side of marinara.  Would that be kind of a calzone at that point?  Whatever.  It was really good.

I’m back at the hotel where I’m staying until I head north again tomorrow to Zurich.  Not many side roads through the Alps, but even though I’ll be on highways once I get out of Genoa, the 200-mile journey should still take me about five hours.  Country number five!