A shameful admission ... perhaps, but I didn't fall in love with Verona. I don't know what I expected. I may have accidentally watched Letters To Juliet once and you might say, that serves you right, Di.
It was a very pretty movie set in an Italian summer. Meanwhile I was there in September on an overcast day and I couldn't help noticing how much they had tidied things up for the movie. And I think I was disappointed.
I really like Genova. I like the extremes of Genova. And it doesn't pretend to be anything it's not. The gritty is there, right next to the pretty, in that northern Italian city located on the edge of the Ligurian Sea.
Trieste didn't seem to be pretending, not at all, during the few hours spent there. And the local restaurant we found served food that I'm still dreaming about. I love Rome but not like Genova. Rome is simply something else. Magnificent.
Acqui Terme has fabulous food and wine. And the people were lovely but still, I preferred Genova.
Venice ... rainy, overcast, crowded. I don't know, it didn't capture me but perhaps I need to go back there in summer, or spring. On a sunny day anyway. And Cinque Terre ... I'm still muttering about the crowds I found there.
Naples, that was something something else! It was like nowhere I've ever been before. Not like Istanbul, nor Cairo. Not Singapore. Naples was just its ownself. I loved it but I imagine it's obvious by now ... not like I love Genova.
I write all of this in a bemused state of mind. I need to pop in and visit Florence one day, and maybe drive through this Tuscan countryside everyone raves about. Even if it only confirms what I suspect ... that Genova has everything, and more, of what I prefer.
Maybe Italy is like a pick-a-path story. Maybe you simply find what you love best there and stay loyal to it. I don't know but that's how it is for me.
