Genoa!

For her 70^th birthday, my friend Faith invited me to accompany her on a pilgrimage to Italy and Ireland.  We attended a spirituality conference for health care workers in Assisi for 9 days before heading to Ireland to stay in the facility with the Brothers of St. John of God, who we came to know during their time at St. Mary Medical Center, where we both worked. 

One of the days we were in Assisi, Faith and I took a day trip with two new friends up to Gubbio, another beautiful city in Italy.  We drove on tiny back country roads, often having to pull over so that oncoming vehicles could pass.  When we arrived, we took a tram up through the mountain before beginning our exploration.  While we were walking the streets, eating gelato, and visiting basilicas, I remember telling myself that someday, I would return to Italy with my love. 

Today, I woke up remembering that promise to myself.  And here I am, in beautiful Italy, with my love. A dream has come true. We have just one day to explore Genoa, and true to who he is, Shawn has researched the best way to see Genoa in just one day.  He tells me we are going on a walking tour, and off we go.

We walk through the city, explore the little narrow streets and talk about eating pizza for lunch today. We head up thousands of stairs to reach a known viewpoint called Belvedere Castelleto.  I laugh as I recall that I hoped we would get enough exercise during our trip!  The view proves to be spectacular, and we are able to see the Lighthouse of Genoa near the port, which was built in 1543. I love seeing again how staircases and buildings are all snugged together in various mazes to make use of every inch of the hillsides. 

Shawn knows that I absolutely love exploring cathedrals.  I love the reverence I feel when we enter, each time respectfully covering my shoulders with a light wrap I remember daily to pack in my bag.  I never tire of the intricate details, art and architecture.  Today, the first one we see is Cathedral di San Lorenzo.  We go in together and I pay the three euros to take the narrow, winding staircase to the upper levels and out to an area where I can see the city.  There is a cool breeze and there are only two others up there with me.  We sit quietly for a period of time.  My heart is full of gratitude.

On our way to our next stop, we find ourselves on a street where we see many prostitutes out waiting for business.  They are wearing skin-tight, revealing clothing and very high heels.  Their hair and makeup is done and many are very large and curvy. Honestly, I feel like I am witnessing artistic expression.  I want to ask if I can take pictures but my savvy intuition guides me away from making this request. We walk through the area quietly and respectfully.

We next go to Piazza De Ferrari where we see the fountains and lovely buildings and artwork.  We find a place to enjoy pizza and drinks for lunch.  A young Filipino lady sees us looking at the menu and asks us to come into the outside patio to eat.  She said, “It will help me because nobody is here and they won’t start to come unless they see others eating here.”  We laugh and are happy to oblige, as we’ve been walking for hours and have worked up a thirst and an appetite. 

 She tells us her name is Rochelle and she came here from the Philippines 17 years ago.  She has an 18-year-old son, her husband and her sister here with her.  She has a home in the Philippines and a home here.  When she first arrived, she worked cleaning homes and then became a caretaker for a gentleman who died five days before his 100^th birthday.  She worked for him and his wife, who died the year earlier, for eleven years.  Her heart was broken after his death and she took six months off to grieve before starting work here at the restaurant, one year ago.  She tells us we remind her of her friends from America.  We laugh and tell her she reminds us of our many Filipino friends we have worked with in America.  She gives us her contact information so we can stay connected, and also, cheerfully and apologetically tells us her boss says she’s talking too much. As she hoped, the patio fills up and we enjoy our delicious pizza and drinks before saying goodbye.

We go on to find the home where Christopher Columbus grew up.  It’s a small, multi-story home and the staircase and rooms go around an open area that the rain can fall through.  Rain was collected on the ground floor in a large, built-in rectangular basin that looks somewhat like a bathtub.  There is also a large monument honoring Christopher Columbus right outside the train station.

Our last stop is Basilica di Santa Maria Assunta.  It’s 4:30 p.m. and there are no people present.  We see the doors are closed but we are able to easily open the left-hand door at the top of the entryway stairs and quietly go in.  I enjoy this sacred time and try to memorize the layout, the artwork and the detail before we let ourselves out.  We notice a young, Asian couple taking pictures and let them know that they are able to go in.  They thank us and they, too, make their way into the basilica.

As we head back to our hotel, a light rain falls upon us. We get some gelato before we head in for the evening.  My feet are tired but my heart is full.  Thank you, Shawn, for showing me around Genoa.  I love you.