From Construction Zone
to Cocktail Hour
Genoa, Week 3 Aug 13 2025
Two powerful forces finally converged, pushing us to do something we’d resisted for weeks: get a hotel.
The Breaking Point
The Genoa heat had become a physical adversary. By 10:30 AM, it was inescapable, a thick blanket that left my brain foggy, my skin sensitive, and my eyes sun-bleached and bloodshot. We were on the verge of heatstroke, seeking refuge in the marina’s crew lounge—a paradise of AC we were immensely grateful for. But at 5:50 PM, we’d have to turn in the keys, and the real wait began. The boat, still an oven, wouldn’t cool until 9:30 PM. Our evenings were spent in a ritual of cold showers, then sitting damp before small fans, trying to trick our bodies into believing we were cool.
The construction amplified everything. Luna was getting new veins, and while we were proud, the chaos was relentless. Every surface was a workspace. The constant hum of drills was the soundtrack of our days. I grew nervous with every new scratch on the floor or potential stain in the teak. My small act of control was to sweep every night, ensuring the team started each day on a clean slate, protecting Luna’s bones from the grit of her own transformation.
The Perfect Excuse
The universe, in its infinite wisdom, sent a perfect excuse to escape: our first visitors, Matt and Esther. They were already in Florence and made the drive just to see us and our new boat. The gesture itself meant the world.
We wanted to be fully present for them, not heat-addled hosts. They’d booked a hotel near Genoa’s Old City, and we decided to join them. There’s something uniquely special about those "in-between" moments with friends—the impromptu cocktail hours, the lobby meetups, the late-night laughs. It’s stolen time, and we cherished every second.
Luna’s Night to Shine
Of course, they came to see Luna as well. We waited until the workers had left for the day, then rode our bikes over to reassemble our home for her grand debut. We fluffed cushions, wiped away the day’s dust, and turned on her soft lighting.
Their reaction was everything. They fell in love instantly. Who could blame them? Under the evening lights, her tan palette glowed, and her spaciousness felt like a promise of adventures to come. They weren’t just seeing a boat; they were picturing themselves on board for a future voyage. Success.
Playing Tourist in Our Own Port
With our friends, we finally became tourists. We visited the Genoa Aquarium, one of the best in Europe, and were awed by its brilliant design. The funniest moment was rounding a corner to find a full exhibit dedicated to… Florida marine life. Manatees, tropical fish, and conchs—so exotic here, yet so familiar from our time in Miami. It was a lovely, full-circle moment of gratitude.
Later, we found a speakeasy bar with an incredible movie theme. I ordered a Jurassic Park cocktail, complete with an amber gummy on a leaf mimicking the mosquito in amber. Matt went for a Heart of Darkness drink that came in two parts—one “before the event” and one representing the “chaos,” served with a pair of headphones to listen to the film’s score. Talk about commitment to a theme!
It was the reset we desperately needed. A reminder of why we’re doing all this—for the adventures, yes, but more importantly, for the people we get to share them with.
Dinner with Paolo’s Circle
We’ve been looking forward to seeing Paolo and his friends again all week—and let me tell you, the evening did not disappoint. There’s something truly special about this group. They’re all highly accomplished professionals, yet it isn’t their careers that bind them. (Though his friends did hint that Paolo isn’t just working in Germany—he’s running the whole show over there.)
Paolo offered to pick us up and drive us to dinner, an offer we gladly accepted. He knows these narrow, winding mountain roads like the back of his hand—and drives them like a Formula 1 racer. I’m convinced his years on the German Autobahn have rewired his sense of speed. I laughed and gripped my seat, telling him to slow down as I felt the G’s pulling me through the corners.
We pulled up to the condo of Luigi and Chiara’s little vacation home in Lavagna, just outside Genoa. They both live and work in Milan, so this is one of their charming getaways. Their first-floor apartment opened onto a wonderful little garden, complete with a gazebo set for dinner. As soon as we arrived, they handed us cold G&Ts while we waited for the other guests. They brought out a thin, crispy flatbread called Pane Carasau drizzled with olive oil—it was incredibly delicious and the perfect start.
The gathering was a wonderful mix of old and new. There was another friend who was a fan of Hugh’s TV show and had been eager to meet him. Then there was Chiara’s niece and her friend, who’d come specifically to practice their English with the Americans—both had spent a year studying abroad in the U.S. and were thrilled for the chance to converse.
Once everyone arrived, Luigi lit the grill and the seafood feast began. This was no ordinary trip to the market. They had curated the menu like sommeliers pairing wine, selecting each type of seafood from a different village renowned for it. “The octopus is from this fisherman,” “These prawns are the best from that town.” It was a tour of the Ligurian coast on a platter. Luigi even proudly presented his own homemade chimichurri sauce. Chiara hated it and rolled her eyes in mock despair that we were encouraging such non-Italian behavior. The moment of truth came when Hugh slathered the green sauce on his grilled squid. The boys tried it, their eyes widened, and they declared: “È la morte sua!”—which translates to “it’s the death of it,” meaning it’s the perfect, undeniable pairing. The highest culinary compliment.
The conversation turned to their upcoming trip to Sardinia. Paolo and his fiancée, Natalie, are going to check on a house owned by his business partners, a place that’s been forgotten for years. The trip has a bittersweet edge; since his mother has been ill with dementia, he now shoulders the responsibility. He joked with a mix of humor and heartache about asking her where things are in the house. “She is so believable,” he said, “up until the last details.” His example was asking her where the sheets were. She gave perfect, detailed instructions about a chest at the foot of the bed, then finished with, ‘where I put them yesterday.’” She hasn’t been there in years. He rolled his eyes with a familiar frustration we could all feel, then admitted, “I just brought my own sheets, just in case.”
As the night wound down, we were treated to a nightcap of Chiara’s famous homemade limoncello. And then, in a gesture that perfectly encapsulated the entire evening’s generosity, she sent me home with a full bottle.
What’s magical about this circle is their history: childhood friends whose parents were also friends. They’ve built a lifetime of memories together, and now—somehow—they’re pulling us into their orbit. One story from their past stuck with me. Their parents all bought condos in the same brutalist-style building in the Alps. Locals apparently complain about the architecture, saying it clashes with the natural beauty. But Paolo and his friends just laugh. “We have the best view,” they say, “because we don’t have to look at the building—we’re inside it!” That kind of quick, self-aware humor flows freely among them.
We left with full hearts and an open invitation to visit them in that very Alpine building. The inclusiveness, the warmth, the immediate sense of belonging… it’s almost overwhelming. How is it that we’ve stumbled into such an instant, genuine friendship? It’s troppo bello—so good it almost hurts.
Genoa: La Superba, Keeper of the Seas
As we settle into our stay in Genoa, we're continually amazed by the incredible depth of this city. Known as La Superba (“The Proud One”), its reputation is well-earned. This isn’t just a big sailing port—it’s a historical titan. For centuries, Genoa was a powerful maritime republic that rivaled Venice and Pisa, its navy dominating the Mediterranean and its bankers financing kings. Walking the labyrinthine caruggi (alleys) of the old town, a UNESCO World Heritage site, feels like stepping back into that golden age. It’s also the birthplace of Christopher Columbus, and the very first Roman road—the Via Aurelia (SS1)—connected this crucial port directly to the heart of the empire. The city’s spirit of innovation runs deep, too: it’s the birthplace of the iconic Vespa scooter. I can’t help but imagine how magical it would be to ride my 1970s Vespa Sprint through these winding streets—back to where this classic brand was born. And yet, what we’re truly loving is the vibrant literary culture that permeates daily life here, from charming bookstores and bustling news kiosks to the delightful surprise of book vending machines tucked along a casual stroll. Genoa is a captivating blend of maritime might, ancient history, and modern charm—and we feel so grateful to lose ourselves in its stories, to wander its winding streets, and to discover its treasures as if they were left here waiting for us.
Quick Hits: This Week’s Wins
Nautical Map Treasure: Stumbled upon a specialty print shop and walked out with our future on paper: a massive world map, a detailed Atlantic chart, and our dream route through the Pacific. Suddenly, the voyage feels tangibly close.
Typewriter Time Capsule: Discovered an incredible vintage typewriter shop, a museum of clacking keys and mechanical brilliance. Found models we’d never even seen in pictures.
Gearing Up to Fish: Visited an adorable local fishing shop near the marina. We’re committed to perfecting our skills on passage and are fascinated to learn Ike Jime, the Japanese art of fish preparation that prioritizes quality and respect.
Meet Comet!: Hugh found us a brilliant little inflatable dinghy, now christened Comet. Paired with a quiet electric outboard, she’s our perfect solar-powered runabout for spontaneous beach trips or a backup if our main tender’s busy.
Hugh’s Book: We were visiting another cute bookstore and came across a book Hugh edited. Every time we find his books it feels like a treasure.
