We have reached our destination – Santa Margherita Ligure. (Say it like you’re Italiano. It will sound like music!) Santa Margherita Ligure is on the Italian Riviera, 25 miles south of Genoa. This part of Italy is Liguria, named after the Ligurian people who lived here thousands of years ago. Let’s go see what life is like on the Italian Riviera.
Così bello!
Our hotel is on the town’s main street. One side is lined with vintage Italian buildings. On the other side it’s palm trees, a sandy beach, and the sparkling waters of the Ligurian Sea. Così bello!
We checked in and took the bags up to the room. I went back down to move the car. The girl at the front desk told me the hotel has parking arrangements with a garage just down the street. To get there, I should drive to a round-about, go all the way around so I’m making a U-turn, pass the hotel going the opposite direction from when we came in, and look for a “Garage” sign. “Just turn in there.”
I got in the car and did just as she had said: I made a U-turn using the round-about, drove past the hotel, and drove up around the bend. Hey – she didn’t say anything about going around a bend. I must have gone too far. I hadn’t seen any “Garage” signs, though.
The road on the other side of the bend is narrow and curvy, so there’s no place to turn around. Eventually, I found a place wide enough and turned around. Now I was going the same way as when we came into town.
OK. Ancora Una Volta
I drove slowly past the block near the hotel, but I still didn’t see any “Garage” signs. I had to go back past the hotel, up to the round-about, and try it again. This time, I thought I saw the sign, but I didn’t see a garage or anyplace to turn in.
I drove up around the bend to my U-turn spot, turned around, and headed back. This time I slowed WAY down as I neared the hotel. It was a busy street, so I was waiting for horns to start honking. I saw the “Garage” sign, but no place to turn in. Dang.
OK. One more time around the round-about. I was hoping the girl at the hotel reception desk hadn’t seen me going back and forth in front of the hotel so many times, but even if she had, I’ll bet I wasn’t the first to do it.
This time, I saw a place to turn in. Any garage I’ve ever seen has a nice, wide entrance so cars can get in and out. The entrance to this garage looked more like a little mouse hole. It wasn’t much more than a crack between two buildings.
I turned into the mouse hole, went up a narrow alleyway, and came to a dead-end. There was an auto-repair place there. I guess this was the “Garage.” But there was no place to park. A guy in greasy overalls walked up and said something like, “hotel?” I said something like ”sì.” I left the car and the keys with him, and that was that.
I walked back to the hotel. It had been a long day. Remember, we woke up this morning in Bellagio, messed around in Parma, then drove here from Parma in the pouring rain. Now I’ve seen half of Santa Margherita Ligure just while trying to park the car. I was ready to take it easy for a while.
Need… Food…. Soon
Back at the hotel, I walked past the reception desk. The girl working there was very nice. She didn’t give me the “I saw you driving back and forth so many times” look. Our room was on a corner and had big windows on two sides. The front window faced the ocean. The side window looked out toward the round-about that I had already become quite familiar with.
It had been a long day. We were ready for a glass of vino and something to eat. The girl at the front desk recommended a place that was only a couple of blocks away, so that’s where we went.
It was nice outside – much warmer than it had been in Bellagio. Bellagio was quiet and sedate. Nothing but the sound of boats chugging along, water lapping up on the shore, and footsteps on cobblestones. Santa Margherita Ligure is all hustle and bustle. The vehicle of choice here is clearly the motor-scooter. They were flying around everywhere.
We walked to the restaurant and sat at a table in an outdoor patio. The patio was lit up with bright outdoor lights. It was a casual place where everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
We ordered a salad and the special of the day – pizza ai funghi – pizza with fresh mushrooms on it. The mushrooms on the pizza were thin slices of what must have been a huge mushroom. They probably only needed to use half of it to make our pizza. It was molto delizioso.
Tomorrow is a rest day. Somehow, though, “rest days” never seem to live up to their name. We shall see.
To be continued…
Just for fun…
Benvenuti a… – Welcome to…
Così bello! – So beautiful!
Ancora una volta – Once again
Funghi – mushrooms, (pronounced “foong-ghee”)
