On Saturday I went back to the station thinking I’d like to quickly pass through the villages again. The throngs of people waiting to board the train dissuaded me. Instead, I climbed the three hundred and fifty steps, in twenty-eight-degree heat to reach the Castello San Giorgio overlooking La Spezia. Imagine my annoyance when I reached the castle to discover a funicular that would have taken me up for free. Afterwards it was over to the Harbour for a coastal walk and then the Naval Museum. The churches were closed that day which seemed strange. Churches are nearly always open in Italy. I took a bus out to Lerici – a harbour village about eight kilometres from La Spezia with thousands of sailboats. I had pesto flavoured foccaccia bread for lunch.

That evening I planned to visit La Taverna del Metalo for my dinner – a highly recommended venue where the soundtrack was heavy metal, the food rustic and the location is a medieval style house, with a wide selection of local wines and beers. I arrived at the 8pm opening time to maximise my opportunity for admission. People with reservations were already seated, but it wasn’t yet full.

‘Can I have a table for some food please?’ I asked the bearded, tattooed waiter in Dr. Martin boots and an Iron Maiden t-shirt.

‘Sure. A table for 2?’

‘No. Just me.’

‘I’m sorry but we are fully booked till 10.30pm’.

So barefaced was the lie I started laughing, Arguing was pointless. Right of admission reserved. It is a waste of energy to resist.  I understand though, it was a small place where I’d be occupying a table where two people could sit. Instead, I went to a grim little pizza place with no customers where I had a pizza with mozzarella, tomato, sweet onion, and salami. And a glass of local red wine.

The next day I travelled an hour north to Genoa – the port city that was the birthplace of Christopher Columbus. When I visited Naples last year the expression ‘what the fuck is THAT?’ came out of my mouth on one memorable occasion, such was my astonishment at the splendour of the buildings. That Sunday was a repeat performance. It was quite overwhelming how opulent everything was. I wandered around the Palazzo Blanco art gallery on Via Garibaldi. In any other country this would be a major gallery with crowds of people. I imagine that even in Italy it’s important. However, I was the only visitor.

I saw Christopher Columbus’ childhood home – a reminder that even though he sailed to America on Spain’s behalf, he was Italian. Because of course he was. I took a wander through the legendary lanes of the old town. No pictures were taken there. I’d inadvertently happened upon the red-light district.

On Monday morning I climbed hundreds of steps to reach the Spianneta Castellato, a viewing platform over the city. It nearly destroyed me. Upon reaching the summit I saw the lift. I wandered over to the Lanterno di Genova – the lighthouse in the new port. Then back to the old port where I visited the aquarium. Genoa is such a pleasant city with surprisingly few tourists. The trio of Rome, Florence and Venice tend to get the throngs. That evening I dined at the Imperial Palace beside my lodgings. It was the most extravagant restaurant I had ever seen. I had an anchovy starter and string bean lasagne main course followed by a limoncello. For the price of a main course in Ireland.

My flight from Pisa the following day was at 17.30 meaning I had to be at the airport by 15.30. The train from Genoa to Pisa is two hours. If I left Genoa early enough, I could visit the Leaning Tower again – I visited during my trip to Tuscany in 2021. I left my room at 9.30am and took a metro to Genoa Brignole Station. The fear on the train was palpable, when man boarded with a snarling pit bull terrier with no mouth covering. He was yelling at the dog to further agitate it. I changed carriages at the le next stop, along with everyone else on board. The train back to Pisa was crowded. I was surprised to see a Benito Mussolini 2024 calendar at the newsagent in the station.

In Pisa I retraced my steps from 2021 and went to see the Tower in Miracle Square once again. I didn’t climb it this time – my legs were on strike. I must have visited the Cathedral on my last trip – it is included in the Tower ticket. I had no recollection of having done so. It was as gaudy as I didn’t remember.  After walking past the Keith Haring mural, I had a margarita pizza near the station before heading to to the airport, where in a very strange turn of events my Ryanair flight departed on time.

A wonderful trip – Italy never disappoints.