On Missing Genova
People visiting Genova for the first time should be warned … it’s a city that can slip under your skin and haunt you long after you leave. It might even keep you returning.
I was born in New Zealand. I live in Belgium … my flashbacks, the memories of places I loved, the ones that I treasured, used to be all about New Zealand. But these days, it’s Genova. I’ve been returning since 2008, and still the city calls me, so powerfully.
Sitting here in Belgium, as Autumn rolls out over Antwerp, I can’t help pulling out my memories of Genova … and I imagine wandering along Via Ravecca to pick up my morning focaccia, then going down into Salita Pollaiuoli for the best coffee I’ve ever tasted, at Caffè degli Specchi.
Then a walk on through the ancient heart of the city would make everything right in my world. Even the narrow caruggi have a magic all of their own. And that’s how it is on this very grey gloomy day here in Belgium.
I am missing Genova.