Liguria - Imperia to La Spezia

Cervo - summer home of Sandor Vegh

We tore ourselves away from Sanremo - eventually - and made our way to a rendezvous with Gwendoline and Glenn of SY Pardela in Savona.  Along the way  we passed by Cervo, where our mentor Sandor Vegh had had a summer residence and where we played concerts early in our careers.  We threw anchor at the private island of Gallinara just south of Albenga for a swim way to try and escape the heat as well as the somewhat industrialised coastline.
Savona has a Darsena Vecchia (old dock) in the heart of the town, but also in the heart of the heat, so we all opted to remain at anchor in the bay so we could cool ourselves down in the water - cool wasn’t exactly possible though with the sea being above 32 degrees celsius! Pardela’s dinghy provided transport into the town a mile or so away past the eerie backdrop of disused loading wharfs and derelict fishermen's huts.  This was once the seat of the iron-ore industry, but foundries are cold now and only rusting remnants remain.  It is all rather on the quaint side of run-down though and we enjoyed three slightly well-oiled and gloriously fed days with G and G. Mutual friends will understand the obvious understatement. Aside from finding a really good chandler, we also found a memorable Indian restaurant where we doused the heat rather laconically with a Vindaloo and Indian beer somewhat oddly named - Kamasutra.
As Pardela sailed further west we continued east to our next port, Genoa. Not just a port of call, but a serious port in terms of size, traffic and, sadly, water pollution. It was Saturday and there must have been 5 or 6 very large cruise liners docked at any one given moment, yet it is such a huge and sprawling place that there is no sense of being cramped, only thrown about by the wash a little.

Molo Vecchio Genoa from our bow

Evidence of former Genovese glory was represented by a faux Galleon in the Porto Antico, but more interestingly in the museums, notably those a little way up the hill on Via Garibaldi - yes what a surprisingly unique name for a street. The Palazzi, Rosso and Bianco, now art museums, house more square metres of Renaissance paintings than one can sensibly absorb in a short visit and it is not long before one gets Caravaggio saturation. Our, predictable, interest though was that of the Paganini collection in the Palazzo Tursi. His Guarneri del Gesu hangs forlornly in a glass cabinet never to be played, or indeed cleaned,  again and a small collection of artifacts including his Vuillaume half fill display cabinets. The slightly meagre collection is evidence of his unhappy dalliance with gambling. I have an aversion to these important instruments lying dormant in museums like this and it rather puts me off. It was pointed out to me, rather sharply, by Catherine that, since I have never practiced Paganini Caprices, I have no idea what I am talking about. She is about 50% correct there, but rather than create a scene, I suggested Gelato and all was well again.

Paganini's Guarneri del Gesu

As I started to have visions of massive growth build-up on our hull, I suggested we head for cleaner waters so we set off for Portofino. It was, rather unsurprisingly, blocked by three superyachts on the dock and several more anchored just off. After a controlled period of tut-tutting we headed a couple of miles further north to Santa Margherita Ligure and anchored in its small bay. It is as entirely charming as its name suggests and provides the perfect setting for a relaxing few days. It is more reminiscent of a film or opera set than a town and sitting at a bar along the waterfront or Lungomare, one is entertained by unfolding dramas every few minutes.

This is a centre of food too of course and delicatessen after wine boutique provided much retail distraction. We found a great little pasta shop on Corso Matteotti where the proprietor spent as much time and effort selling his wares as he spent ensuring that one cooks them to perfection and only with a sauce of which he approves. We went back after the first lot of fish ravioli turned out to be fantastically delicious only to be treated to further delights and waistline enhancing delicacies.  We also found a butcher who was prepared to part with a Bistecca Fiorentina for mere coins. Later it dignified our BBQ and we were in a carnivorous stupor in no time.

Santa Margherita Ligure

To say that time was pressing would be have been inaccurate, but even we can have too much of a good thing.  So, we headed to Sestri Levante a mere 2 hours away, but when we anchored we were thrown about with a tremendous swell that came into the bay. Seeing a vacant fuel dock we tied up there on the pretext of wanting to fill up in the morning when it opened again. Luckily the coast guard was in a good or distracted mood when he gruffly reiterated what was obviously stated on the red sign right next to us. Stopping, tieing-up, loitering, hanging about: prohibited at night. In the end the diesel was very a very good price, but the fuel guy told us that we were lucky as usually the coast guard levies a €2,000 fine for berthing there!  As it happened they had a whole team of divers leaving to detonate an unexploded bomb, so fortunately our otherwise serious transgression was lost in the figurative noise of it all. The next day the swell was as bad so we backtracked to Santa Margherita to sit it out before heading to La Spezia.

Our plan for the Ligurian coast which  encompasses Imperia, Savona, Genova and La Spezia, was to get to Lerici near La Spezia where Fabian was going to be playing at a festival in August. The coastline of the Cinque Terre, between levante and Porto Venere is breathtakingly full of small craft and day-tripper boats this close to the main Italian holiday of Ferragosto.  I would hazard a guess that the assumption of Mary into Heaven at the end of her earthly life did not take place exactly here, but you would be hard pushed to find a better setting, if you were to follow the same fate.

Porto Venere, at the western tip of the Gulf of La Spezia, has a two thousand year old  history, but thanks to tourist dollars it looks as if it was painted just last weekend. We sailed a bit further into the Gulf of La Spezia and into the little bay of Le Grazie. This muddy inlet provides fantastic protection, which was just as well given the weather we were expecting.  That night all hell broke loose and we experienced hours of eyelid piercing sheet lightning.  We packed our spare electronics in the oven for protection and sat it out somewhat fatalistically. The next morning, August 14th, the Ponte Morandi in Genoa collapsed spectacularly. Even though there was much written about its poor state of repair, it would be surprising for any structure to withstand that kind of force of nature.

Porto Venere

The weather cleared just about as quickly as it had appeared and we sailed the short distance to the bay at Lerici. While there are scores of motor boats moored on buoys, there are very few yachts yet we found ample place to anchor within a short dinghy ride of the town and the final resting place of both Percy Bysshe Shelley and our Yamaha outboard engine. Fabian's accommodation was a bit far away, so he stayed on board with us for the first while, which provided a wonderful opportunity to catch up on things as well as buy a new outboard. Our new Suzuki started straight away and ticked over gently and quietly making the mourning period for the Yamaha commensurately short. It is notable that having gone through my entire life never having owned something made by Suzuki, yet having being aware of the brand for decades, speaks to a determined marketing campaign on their part. I feel almost guilty for the amount I paid.... almost.