Things: Miscellaneous Musings

Let's start with the important stuff first: food and beverages. As you can imagine, the quality of food in Italy is what you might expect: "eccelente!" Even if you've been inclined to eating Italian cuisine your whole life -- like me -- you would have been impressed.

For breakfast, I ate on the terrace of the Hotel Cristoforo Colombo (above); the morning meal was included as part of the cost of my room. But this was no continental breakfast. It included an eye-opener of espresso, Cappuccino or Cafe Americano -- as many as I desired -- followed by several types of fruit juices. For protein, I had my choice of ham or salami and hard-boiled eggs. Topping it off was a selection of croissants, breads of all varieties and fruit cocktail.

For dinner, it was a different "ristorante" every night, and I always left as full as an egg; scores of restaurants dotted the narrow alleys of Old Genoa and all were quite different in terms of bill of fare.

However, the common ingredient was pesto Genovese, the famous sauce comprised of basil, garlic, Parmesan cheese and pine nuts. One night, I had pesto pasta cut into parallelograms; even with no meat, it was lip-smacking good.

Being so close to a major seaport (above), I enjoyed seafood pasta about every other night. As I noted in a previous post (http://gonzopublicrelations.blogspot.com/2010/10/italian-riviera-and-cinque-terre.html), the pizza in Genoa was spare compared to the sumptuous toppings found on an American pie.

The Italians excel at wine -- no surprise here -- and all the eateries were well stocked.

However, Italian beer was inferior for my taste. My brother Robert said that Italian beer "tastes like blood," meaning that you can't really taste it. I thought that Italian beer was a lot like Mexican beer (or Korean beer, for that matter). Think: Budweiser. As a result, I stuck with the German and Danish labels, including Ceres Strong Ale (left).

Throughout Italy, the art and architecture are a sight to behold. Celebrated architect Galeazzo Allessi (1512-1572) designed many of the breathtaking buildings in Genoa.

In recent years, the Italian government has emphasized a greater public awareness of the importance of contemporary architecture and urban design in the role of regeneration and redevelopment of cities, and Genoa is no exception.

Italians understand that the quality of their surroundings can lift the quality of their lives.

Beautiful frescoes grace the exposed sides of some of the buildings, while ubiquitous statues and sculptures honor the Good Shepherd (Jesus Christ, left) and leaders like Victor Emmanuel II, the "Father of the Fatherland."

Only one word can describe the buildings of Genoa: monumental.

Churches are also in abundance in Old Genoa. The Cathedral Di San Lorenzo (right), with its black-and-white marble facade, was only steps from my hotel. In fact, the bell tower was a consistent reminder of the time of day. The bell rings at 8 a.m., 12 noon and 7 p.m.

This tradition, from the old Italian "book of hours," was basically a call to prayers. The 7 p.m. bell signaled evening vespers.

The church bells were an extremely accurate barometer of time: the 8 a.m. bell was my final wake-up call. In other words, if I didn't have my rear out of bed by then, it was time.

It's a good thing the church bells were accurate because the clocks were not, as witnessed in the photo below. Naturally the hours will vary among the international cities featured here, but the minutes? This is a clock shop, mind you. For me, these clocks epitomized Italy in a way: sometimes stuff works, and sometimes it doesn't.

In terms of apparel, the Italians were -- by and large -- a well-dressed lot. Along with soccer, shopping is one of their favorite sports. But their focal point was "scarpe:" these people love their shoes. A small shoe shop betweeen my hotel and the Cafe Barbarossa was a popular establishment, always packed with people looking for new footwear.

Finally, a last word on toilets. When I first laid eyes on the bathroom in my hotel room, I thought: " what's the deal with the hot- and cold-running toilets?"

My brother Robert explained by text message that these are called "bidits," which are designed for washing one's private parts. In both of my hotels -- in Genoa (above) and Milan (below), the bathrooms also featured a second toilet, a water closet for "number two."

Well, we've been from one end to the other, so enough of this potty talk. I thought it would be a good way to "end" this blog post.