Columbo

So, we took a day trip to Genoa to eat Pesto from the source and to visit Christopher Columbus´ home town. My Italian grandfather wanted to name me Columbo Giuseppe because I was born on Columbs day, October 12th, also our nephew Robert´s birthday. Now, we only took a day trip because the guide book made it seem that it was a wretched hive of scum and villany. We pretty much thought we would get shot after sundown. We should have known not to trust a book about Italy with a damn croissant accompanied with a strawberry on the cover. I mean seriously, with the pantheon of Italian food available to be on the cover, you choose the croissant!! I mean, it has been weeks and we haven´t even eaten a decent croissant. They all have ´marmalada´or ´crema´ in them.
Anyway, we found Genoa to be a grand, charming city (with castles, not mentioned in the book) which admittedly was a bit rough around the edges, but it is no Flint Michigan.


There is an aquarium there which is one of the biggest in Europe so we checked it out. We wandered around the city checking out the beautiful, grand buildings which were of an enormous scale, built when Genoa was a maritime power. We saw Christopher Columbus´ childhood home, which was anticlimactic at best, but a decent pilgramage nonetheless. We went to a church which was one of the most oddly laid out we have ever seen. At every corner it kept opening up into other cloisters and chapels that seemed to never end. There was some peculiar artwork in there which included a saint with a hatchet buried in his head and a freaky wooden jesus.

We bought some Pesto which was some of the best we have eaten, except for my mom´s of course. Pesto is made with both Parmesean and Peccorino here which gives it a bit more body. Bruschetta (pronounced Bruce-ketta) is from here and we got some of that with pesto and tomatoes and had a little picnic in our room when we got back to Cinque Terre.