Genoa

 Day One- Arrival and Recon

Day Two- the Porto Antico

So when you go to Italy, you are going to end up in a LOT of museums.  You kind of have to- I mean, some of the most famous works of art in the world are here.  Are you just going to take a pass on the Sistine Chapel or waltz on by Michelangelo's David?  But here is the thing- as I have written, though all of the Museums are housed in magnificent old buildings, and are inarguably stuffed with antiquities, they are a mixed bag when it comes to curation.  The archeological museums, for example, were often lots of really old coins, busts, and pots displayed in cases with dates next to them.  Several of the art museums are vast collections of unexplained religious art- which unless you are an art historian or a fervent Catholic, run together pretty quickly.

I know this is about the least sympathetic argument I may have made in this entire blog, but it's HARD sometimes eating so many vegetables!  I'm just mentioning it to explain our motivation today to drift away from the classical museums for a bit and check out the offerings of the "Porto Anitico"- the historic port of Genoa.   Along the waterfront, there are more modern attractions perhaps more aimed at children and cretins such as myself and my bride who need a little break from another gallery of giant oil paintings about the Annuciation.   

First stop was the very excellent Aquarium, which apparently is one of the largest in Europe.   It's build out on one of the piers that just out into the semi-circular bay of Genoa- and some of it seems to be made of large barge-buildings floating in the water.  It's a modern aquarium, packed with families with kids, but we were early enough (crack of 9:30), and it's designed well enough that adults can still enjoy it.  A very nice change of pace, though I admit being a little queasy with the display of marine mammals, like manatees and dolphins- they seem well cared-for, but maybe too smart to be penned in like that.  Kinda like seeing the big cats or the great apes in the zoo.  But whoever is in charge of the coral and tropical fish displays- bravo.  

The Porto Antico pass also throws in a visit to the adjacent "Biodome"- which is a glass sphere that acts as a giant terrarium that is pretty small and maybe more the result of some re enthusiasm of an architect.  It has a bunch of tropical plants in there, a really bored-looking attendant, and a VERY feisty cockatoo who had a lot to say to me.  I tried to keep my cool as it came out of its open cage, whistling and glaring at me intently and advancing through the display greenery very much toward my face, dexterously using its talons and beak.  I was definitely getting "it would be very good for you if you had a bag of peanuts" vibe, and my mind was furiously trying to remember if cockatoos are dangerous or what.   Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to retire.   

We then headed to the also very excellent "Mueseo di Mare" down the shore a bit.  Are you listening, Venice?  THIS is what your maritime museum should be.  Not some dusty, forgotten collection of boat models off the beaten path- but a well-curated, giant museum which for some reason is a giant glass rectangle that encompasses the historic building.  The exhibits are modern and really interesting, explaining Genoa's rich nautical past with interactive displays and gorgeous historical maps.  Yeah sure, maybe they are a little overly proud of Christopher Columbus (who is from here, kinda), and maybe they gloss over Genoa's historical reputation as kind of being a den of very fancy pirates.  But I forgave the huge museum for any such sins when it gave me full-sized replicas of giant Genoese war-galleys that you can walk around in and  re-creations of the decks of 19th century sailing ships.  There were also a large (and thoughtful) section all about Italian emigration in the late 19th and early 20th century.  (Fascinating to see this from the Italian point of view, after a lifetime of images of weeping immigrants sailing past the Statue of Liberty, finally to be liberated from their hellish existence in gross old Europe and now to experience the limitless bounty of 'Murica).  The display then goes on to explain that since the 1970's the tale of Italy decisively turns from one of emigration to immigration, and doesn't sugar-coat the difficulties that has (and is) caused socially in the country.  If you had any doubts about those struggles, you can see them immediately outside in the streets, where lots of immigrants from sub-Saharan Africa struggle to make a living hawking cheap goods to, or just scamming, tourists.   Anyway, there is also a cool, if haunting, exhibit about the Andrea Doria- the luxury ocean liner built here that got smashed into in 1956 by a confused Swedish liner, sinking it to the bottom of the Atlantic.  I suppose the good news was that unlike the Titanic, the Andrea Doria was well-built enough that it stayed afloat for 11 hours after having the entire bow of a large ship shoved through her side, so almost everybody survived.  You wrap up the tour with a very cool walkthrough a Cold-War era submarine, moored just outside in the harbor.  

That took up pretty much the whole afternoon, so we ambled down the dockside a bit, had a nice spritz at one of the numerous little bars along there, then went back to the aquarium area.  Mainly because I am at heart kind of cheap and also a completest, we used the final perk of the Aquarium pass and rode up the "Bigo"- a strange round capsule suspended by an art-crane built in the 90's perhaps as a gush of EU optimism.  (it's kind of faded since-could really use another coat of paint) It does give a very nice view of the city and harbor though, and I chatted with the guy running the ride (?) about the very big plans the city has in store, where it was easy to point to them.  The art-crane also suspended a big tent-like structure used for events and festivals, so we wandered in there to discover there was a colorful event clearly put together by Italian NPR-listening types, with lots of international food booths, vendors selling multi-cultural knick-knacks, and a stage for podcasters doing a live show which seemed (i'ts all in Italian) to be celebrating the idea that Italians should be nicer to immigrants.  I guess I will park my own opinions about this at the door (oh hell, here goes- I agree, Italians SHOULD be nicer to immigrants), but the immediate benefit was a great dinner we made of Kenyan and Persian food.  I was a little sad to see the Norway booth be a little deserted- I guess not a ton of demand for pickled fish and black bread.   

Having stayed up shockingly close to dusk, we retreated up a LOT of stairs to our nice rented apartment and a restful slumber.      

Day Two- Vegetables- The Strada Nuovo Museums and the Lanterna

Well, I tried.  It seemed like the Strada Nuovo Museums would be tours of the fabulous mansions the merchant-princes of Genoa lived in, and be dazzling walks through gilt and chandeliered rooms.  And it was that- particularly in the Palazzo Rosso.  Funnily enough, one of the families decided to live in the mezzaninie level because it wasn't as ostentatious as the grand rooms below, but then proceeded to deck out the merely 8-foot ceilings with elaborate frescoes, gilded carvings, walls of mirrors, and so on.  Guess they just couldn't help themselves.  So that was fun.

But then the entire rest of the museum was no doubt priceless collections of most religious oil paintings on our familiar themes: the Annunciation, St. Sebastian looking scerene while getting shot with arrows, the play date with baby Jesus and John the Baptist, etc.  I suppose I am being unfair- a few of the rooms were filled with very old coins, or very old and fancy china, or very old musical instruments.  But it's 80 percent religious oil paintings.  It's a crisis of conscience, really.  I want to love looking at room after room after room of master works of Renaissance art, but a) I am not an Art History major, so it generally seems very similar and I don't know what I am looking at, b) I am not a Catholic, so the religious themes aren't particularly moving to me (though they are familiar from Sunday school) c) I am not Italian, so these painters are unknown, or only vaguely familiar to me.  

 I fall back on a metaphor I probably overuse- it's like model trains.  I mean, you see a big display at Christmas and you think, "Neat.  Somebody worked really hard on that," and you go on with your life.  Unless you are really into model trains.  I have no problem with model trains, they seem fine.   I am just not particularly taken with them.  I like other stuff, like old boats and whitewater rafting and building.  It's fine.  I don't expect other people to share my interests.   

But imagine you go to a continent where 70 percent of the museums are filled with model trains, and the museums are huge, and every model of the Lionel "1939 Greased Lighting X-34" series is on display, and would you look at that detailing of drive train!  And the exquisite brasswork on the secondary steam stack!   And you are just staring dully at it, your brain a muddle from the caboose room, the tender room, the flatcar room, the boxcar room, the roundhouse room, the signal light room...  And you are thinking, what is wrong with me?  Everyone here is fascinated with this!  There is a French guided tour group passing by right now, its participants craning over with childlike wonder admiring the 700 E Hudson Brass Prototype (Mon Dieu!  Tres Magnifique!) and meanwhile I stare listlessly at the extremely rare 213 Lift Bridge with the same understanding as a dairy cow, the dullest glint of recognition in my dim bovine eyes.  

So anyway, we felt kinda tricked by these museums, and after dutifully moving through them, we had some lunch at a particularly nice little cafe nearby and tried to reset by visiting the "Lanterna," which is the signature medieval lighthouse on the edge of the bay.   To be more accurate, it was originally built in the middle ages (which, given its size, is astounding), but then destroyed in a war in the 1500s, then rebuilt good as new soon after.  It was a key part of the city defenses as the city-state of Genoa grappled for power with the other city-states and successive waves of hegemonic power, from the French, Germans, and then the French again in the form of Napoleon, who, like in Venice, brought the whole merchant Republic thing to an end.  

To get there, you walk along a neat boardwalk attached to the old city walls with occasional interpretive signs about the working port you are looking out over.  There is a brief museum thankfully free of Renaissance oil paintings and instead full of interesting lighthouse stuff, and then you climb up the many steps of the tower.  You can only go halfway up, because the top is still occupied by the military, but it's a great view of the port.  It's also interesting, based on what we learned in the maritime museum yesterday, because you can see where the mega-infrastructure is going to go all along the coast.  There were a few dredges out there doing some of the work, but if you want my input, I think they are going to need a lot more out there if they want to do what they said they do!  

So that ended up being a great activity, and the fresh sea air bouyed our spirits.   We had a pleasant dinner over by the aquarium again and got ready for the next phase-  the fabled Cinque Terre!