Rather than visit more museums (they are all closed on Mondays,) I wander through the narrow alleyways in the old town.
It doesn’t take long to come across the working girls hanging out on the streets off the main thoroughfares.
I also come across tiny workshops in niches along the narrow streets.
The fountains at Piazza de Ferrari give relief in this intense heat.
Especially for the kids.
I come across an antique forno, an old bakery, where a carved wooden frieze decorates the wall above the bakery goods. Of course, I take away a few irresistible goodies.
This Asian man sits near the cathedral making figures out of aluminum wire.
The Ducal Palace is closed, but I can admire the large handle on the entrance door.
The next day I visit the Museum of the Risorgimento, a museum devoted to the struggle for Italian independence. It is housed in the birthplace of Giuseppe Mazzini, one of the activists who fought for Italy’s freedom.
The museum shows many items related to Giuseppe Garibaldi, hero of two worlds. I found this image particularly interesting as it is made entirely of differently colored pieces of denim.
The artist Ian Berry works only in denim.
A display of red shirts, worn by Garibaldi’s freedom fighters.
I visit the Palazzo Spinola National Gallery. As I enter I get the strange feeling that I have been here before. I don’t recall this dining room but many of the rooms look familiar.
As does this painting by Rubens of Giovanni Carlo Doria. It was a gift from Mussolini to Hitler that was returned to Italy after the war. I go back in my journal and see that indeed I visited this site two years ago. The descriptions of two years past are much more detailed, which I must attribute to the current heat or the natural reduction in brain cells that comes with time.
I need to take care of some maintenance tasks. The hostess of my lodging requests that all garbage be disposed of prior to departure. She has left a fob that opens the door to this recycling center.
Inside I hold my nose and carefully cross the slippery floor to the enormous bins devoted to various types of refuse.
I do a wash, and three hours after I load the machine, I put the clothes out to dry. I am pleased that I am able to hang the wet clothes without dropping any down into the abyss five floors below.
But I congratulate myself too soon, because when I come to take down the clothes, my green pants are missing. There they are on a precipice too far below the bathroom window to reach. The neighbor is on vacation. I need to practice using clothespins.
I visit the Museum of the San Lorenzo Cathedral. Its very few items are particularly stunning.
The museum consists of a very few rooms but each dark room sets off the exquisite silver and gold treasures to advantage.
It’s nice to visit a museum that features quality over quantity.
Genova does not make it easy to be a tourist. Each museum has its unique hours, all differing.
I have more places to see. I’m leaving tomorrow. I will have to come back.