Summary
Hiked to the port for our day-long boat trip. Disembarked for an hour in tiny, picturesque Camogli. Had coffee on the harbor at Sea Bar Bistingo then popped into an unexpectedly beautiful church with filled with gilt and crystal chandeliers. From the sublime to ridiculous, our next attraction was “the world’s largest frying pan”. Back on boat to San Fruttoso then a different boat to Portofino, our desired destination. Excellent lunch on the harbor at La Stella founded in 1850. Afterwards, took a long flower-filled hike up and around almost to Paraggi. Took the boat back to Genoa, aperativi port side then dinner at a tiny local restaurant with Genoese specialities.
Details
We’re reluctantly up at seven. We have to be on our way by nine, so we rush. Given the writing I’d done on the train yesterday, I’m able to get a blog post off, whew. We get dressed and head down to the lobby to meet Ron and Nancy for breakfast. Their alarm was still on Turkey time, so they got up one hour earlier than planned.
It’s another stellar breakfast. Lots of luscious thinly sliced meats, including mortadella, which we find we really love. The cherry tomatoes are fresh and as sweet as cherries. As instructed, I take some focaccia (with green olive) and dip it in my coffee. Divine!
Our 9 am date is a walk to a pier where we’ll get on a boat to motor down to Portofino for the day. It’s 55° out now but the sunshine and blue sky suggests warmer climes ahead. The weather report from Apple in Cupertino agrees: high of 66° and sunny. Of course it’ll probably be a tad cooler out on the open Mediterranean.
We walk the 20 minutes to the harbor. Our surroundings suggest that this was once a bustling, prosperous port, but now food and goods have a lot more options for transport.
Vouchers exchanged for tickets, we’re eventually onboard, seated at the bow, leaning back against the wheelhouse. Here in the harbor the water is like glass, maybe due in part to the massive, long cement breakwater. Motoring out to open water it’s equally calm, so I guess today’s tranquil waters are more due to the weather and nature of the Mediterranean. In the still of the harbor, docked, the air is still and the sun is hot. Underway, on the open water with the wind in our face, everyone’s suddenly scrambling for their jacket or windbreaker.
Underway we gather this isn’t a narrated voyage but more is about the destination. The sights, though, are pretty. Our first brief stop is Camogli where we have a brief sit for coffee, what we call our “elevenses”. Karen and I order “Americanos” and Ron and Nancy “Lattes”. Given Latte in Italian means “milk” our waitress ensures they mean coffee with milk.
There’s a few more minutes before our boat departs so we figure out our plan, between the world’s largest frying pan and a church. We go for “Out of the pan and into the friar”. Both are impressive but the view and flowering plants even more so. We see healthy, tightly manicured trees with big trunks. They’re pittosporum. Where we come from they’re bushes.
Back on the boat we motor on to San Fruttuoso. We meet Larry, the friendly British wiener dog. Larry meets Lutfi the crocheted dragon Nancy made and brought along. Neither look too fierce.
At 12:40 we get to the beach/isolated micro-village of Fruttuoso. Everyone off. Most are confused. This isn’t Portofino. We take a bus? No, a boat, it’ll be here in two and a half hours. (Groan) “Or, you can catch that boat over there but you have to pay again.” We hurry over there and find it’s just 11 Euros so we are happy pay it as the owner is saying “quick, quick, we have to go”. Something like 95% of our earlier boat will be sitting on their duffs for quite a while.
As we motor into Portofino it couldn’t be more picturesque. The weather and sun are perfect. Ashore we plop ourselves down for lunch at Lo Stella, pretty much picked at random. In the end it’s delicious and oh so expensive. Oh, well, we’re in Portofino, it’s to be expected.
To burn off a few of the calories from our lunch we walk around. In the distance, across the water, we see people obviously on a walk to somewhere, and we’re curious. We visit another very ornate church and then are drawn to a walking path with wisteria and other flowers. One step leads to another and soon we’re a mile down the path. It’s seriously well built, in good condition and has good protection from falling down the cliff. We might not have known about this path but obviously a ton of French, Germans, Italians and visitors of other origins certainly knew. This is a thing. We’ll have to investigate further.
We turn around with a view to the beach at ‘the next cove’. The noise we hear is a helicopter delivering or removing something from a gorgeous villa on the hilltop across the water.
Stop and smell the Pittosporum. We play the ‘name that plant’ game. So many different varieties and so many in bloom and all so healthy. They do like this Mediterranean climate (as do we).
We walk back to town and do some “shopping”. We tickled to see socks for sale with ‘Dolce Far Niente”. We buy a postcard and some yummy (calorie-filled) gelato. We walk more and see so many more healthy, happy flowering plants.
After our “invigorating” boat ride back, in the waning sun, we head ashore and straight to a bar for some aperitivi that the hour calls for. At dinner at a famous, rustic restaurant where we don’t have a reservation, we’re told we can eat if we can do it in 45 minutes. We can.
We pass a big, old short and wide wood-fired oven with a three foot wide round pan cooking chick pea bread, spinach cake, and other traditional delicacies. It’s unusual and delicious.
Our table is decorated with a small healthy basil plant we gather we can use like we’d use a salt or pepper shaker. Dinner’s delicious if unusual. Very rustic. And we finally get our pesto with the customary frolie pasta. Very tasty and we can see what all the fuss is about. For dessert we split panda cotta with basil, of course.
As we settle our bill at the front we practice our rough Italian with the owner. He asks where we’re from. “Switzerland?” he suggests. No, we from the US, er, we mean Canada. “Ah, yes”, he says, understanding. Helpfully he offers, “We say we’re from Switzerland”. Apparently there’s some embarrassment about being Italian, too.
On our walk home we see a bonkers, gorgeous black and white striped church. Apparently it was the style of the time. We also see, in spades, the ‘seedy underbelly” side of town. We never really feel unsafe but we’re glad there are four of us. We are very much the minority in this part of town. If you need any African groceries, this is your part of town.
Back at our hotel we crash, happy to know tomorrow’s more of a down day. You can only take so much excitement and coastal beauty.
Photos
