People
who know enough about who I was when I was about ten would understand the
unwavering pull I felt towards Genoa; a deep-rooted yearning that necessitated this visit, so so bad. For starters, the proverbial suspect was this certain 45-year-old Japanese anime series,
set in this very city during a period of depression in the 1880s, which I
happened to religiously follow many years ago. This animated series introduced me to the
concept of traveling the world, while crudely learning geography, particularly
in Argentina and Genoa, in the process.
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As soon as I arrived on that quiet corner street in Genoa, the cold darkness enveloped me, evoking a sense of exile. The area appeared rather unsafe, with drunk people aimlessly wandering about. Aware of my limited time for exploration, I still chose the safer option: to wait.
Along the highway, I stumbled upon
the lone open shop that beckoned me to seek refuge within its walls.
Approaching the store attendant—an elderly, bustling figure reminiscent of the
archetypal Italian father portrayed in films and tv—I greeted him with a
carefully crafted buongiorno, hoping he'd approve my request. Though
he agreed, I suspected he felt obliged, as the establishment was not intended
for in-place dining. I opted for an early
breakfast right there—the first of the many pizzas I will later
have for the entire trip, paired with the most satisfying cup of caffè there
is. After over an hour, I gleaned glimpses of the
shop's bustling morning routine, highlighted by the spirited interactions with
intoxicated patrons with a chance of constant bickering and soft commotion. Time
ran so fast, yet the darkness outside remained. Nights truly felt longer during this time of the year. Despite the
resounding warnings inside my head insisting it was still unsafe, I decided I
couldn't leave without exploring the city, so when the clock struck 5 a.m., I decided it was time to walk around and visit those spots I had pre-marked on GoogleMaps.
Commencing from the more secure side of the harbor, I beheld the magnificent
Galeone Neptune, an assembly of sleek yachts, and majestic cruise ships before
venturing deep into the labyrinthine network of dimly lit, ancient streets
within the old town. I then walked alone along those narrow harbor streets with my thoughts meandering in tandem with
my footsteps. I felt as though I had been transported exactly to an era from that show I have been talking about. And as I rested upon a top step of
a weathered stone staircase, I began to feel those feelings I had in watching Marco Rossi running
to and from the port, going up and down the stairs, all the fucking time. The
structures, streets, ambient clamor, and even the intermittent rays of light
that vanquished the darkness of the night, were how I pictured them
based on how these were depicted in the anime. It was topnotch surreal. And it went as one of the most memorable moments I will forever cherish in travelling Europe.
In that moment, I triumphantly crossed off one of the biggest items on my Euro travel bucket list. Along with it, I realized how far I had come compared to my ten-year-old self—a mere dreamer yearning to stand precisely where I stood today. Another thing to be heavily thankful for.
