Shaken, not stirred

We arrived in France. Menton is a small but very chic French town only 700m from the ravine that divides France and Italy. There weren't any real anchoring options, so we paid up and went into the municipal dock, which turned out to be very surge-affected, and not very comfortable at all!

Pavvie in the municiple dock at Menton. Very surge affected!

A communal market building, lots of small stalls inside

A cool spot on a hot day

Architecture has a different flavour than italy

More baroque architecture

Old citadel that the mole extends from.

We'd been reading a little of the history of Monaco, and the founding of its famous casino to fund the oceanographic research of Prince Albert II. So we thought we'd have a look. Entry into the ports is very bureaucratic, and after our application had been refused twice due to "inaccurate information", and given that the cost is exorbitant, we decided, as usual, to catch the bus.

View of Monaco from the bus

Monaco has the most expensive real estate in the entire world. The principality is only about 2 square kilometres, and the whole city is built on incredibly steep land. The next photo's show the ravines that run between house.

Monaco is built on incredibly steep land

You can see why real estate is so expensive

Super yachts of every persuasion in Monaco

Part of the casino building

Rolls Royces and Bentleys could park outside the casino no one else though.

Another view of the casino

It didn't take long for us to realize that Monaco was not the place for us. The exclusive 'brand' shops that just sold labels for wealth and privilege, the outrageous prices, the fast cars and coiffed women, we couldn't wait to leave. At least we could say we've been to the second smallest country in the world (only the Vatican city is smaller) with the most expensive real estate, still with a fully functional rather than symbolic monarchy. Tick, done and gone. 

Monaco from the sea side

Real estate is so expensive, that they built the Princess Grace theatre over the water. Casino is on top.

The famous Oceanographic Institute

... and from another angle.

We couldn't resist another drive by view by sea, who knows what famous celebrity we might see hanging about on a super yacht. Still, to misquote that famous frequent visitor to Monaco, James; the place left us feeling shaken, not stirred. So it was back to France, and we headed for Villefranche, a lovely anchorage just outside Nice.

Villefranche, our anchorage viewed from Pavlov

The Citadel in Villafranche

Border run

We finally tore ourselves away from Genoa. We were making a run for the border, hoping to score contraband like snails and frogs, swearing to eschew pizza and pasta for ever. Yes, we were making a Thelma and Louise run for France. Our first stop was Venazza. We anchored off the beach in front of the marina. After lunch, it was so rolly, we disgustedly lifted the anchor and headed off to the slightly more sheltered location of Savona.

The orange beach

The green beach

Savona was an industrial port, and we tendered in to explore. We spent a pleasant day, but this anchorage was also very rolly. So, we set a goal... to find a sheltered anchorage so we could get a good nights sleep. We left Savona and went to Loana, then to the island of Gallinara. We looked at several anchorages but none passed the rock and roll criterion. So with a few choice expletives, we decided to bit the bullet and head to a marina in Porto Maurizio in Imperia.

The streets of Imperia

The marina at Porto Maurizio

Megan goes a tunnelling.

We liked the small holiday resort of Imperia, we caught some live music and had a few nights of restful sleep. But the border was calling, so we headed to our last Italian port, San Remo. 

Pavlov in the transit berth at San Remo

Here we found that cruiser's bonanza, a free berth in the transit yacht area of the municipal dock, with free electricity thrown in. Hard to refuse that bargain, so we settled into San Remo, which was a thoroughly enjoyable town. San Remo was a wealthy tourist destination back in the belle époque  era around 1900, boasting a fabulous casino that was favoured by the English upper class. San Remo is also known as the 'city of flowers' due to its extensive flower growing horticultural pursuits.

A grand house in San Remo

Lovely gardens around the Institute for Humanitarian Law, a major refugee agency

The harbour from our free berth

Narrow windy streets in the Pigna district

Another obligatory...

More windy lanes...

Old town water supply

Local naive art.

The gateway to the Pigna district

We spent an idyllic five days enjoying our free berth, wandering the delightful old town of Pigna which winds up the hill behind San Remo. The bikes saw a bit of action, the flat streets were perfect for riding around. There was live music and visits to the beach, until the siren call from the French border was heard. We had to check out of Italy, and the immigration police were unamused at our flaunting of Schengen laws.... (we'd vastly overstayed our 90 day limit.. by 12 months or so), until he firmly shook my hand and provided an entry stamp in my passport! Thank you very much!

 

Our next jaunt was a whole 12 miles, to the first French port of Menton. No more arrivederi, now its a'bien tot! (I think).

Touring around Turin

We'd been hanging around Genoa enjoying some city living, so we thought we'd catch a local train up to Turin to see a little of the interior. What we didn't realise was the the monday we travelled on was a public holiday, and Turin was completely deserted. The photos will show you what I mean.

Main piazza in Turin. Nobody's there! 

A few queuing for the museum, but no ordinary folk

Another deserted square, down by the Po River

Nevertheless, we made the best of it. Turin is renown for its old cafes, dating back to the 1800's. We sampled a few, before finding one we could afford. Turin is also credited with inventing the chocolate bar, and the cafes certainly demonstrated an ability to create amazing hand-made chocolates. The town is quite different to most Italian towns, it is large, open and entirely rectilinear. Lining each street are large covered arcades, with impressively large piazza's dotted about.

Beautiful art deco arcade.

Beautiful old cafe ...

... but priced to match! 

The River Po

The Mole Antonelliana

Piazza Castello

Palazzo Reale in Torino

So, a bit deflated by the shut shops and missing crowds, we took the train back to Genoa. We'd spent our allotment of luxury time, so we slipped the dock and headed back out into the sloshing liquor of the Ligurian Sea. This time, we parked outside the harbour entrance of Savona, and tendered into the town.

Pavlov at anchor outside Savona

Beautifully painted buildings of Savona

Port at Savona

We're back to the life of rock and roll, but we're looking forward to escaping to France, where there are some anchorages again. Viva la Francais!

Jiving in Genoa

To save a little money, we often forgo the luxury of marina's and 'camp out', anchoring off beaches or wherever we can find a scrap of shelter. In fine weather, this is usually okay except for one thing. The Ligurian Sea is quite an open expanse of water, stretching from Spain through France to Italy, and it tends to develop a sizeable swell.  There are very few protected anchorages or 'snuggle pots'. For Pavlovians camping out off beaches or at the entrances to ports, that means nights of rock and roll, of being swatted from one side of the bed to the other, of snubbed toes as your foot takes a different trajectory than the one planned. And at some point, out of sheer exhaustion, we cry 'Enough'! and seek the sanctuary of a marina.

Genoa skyline...

... taken from the roof of the Maritime Museum

That was the case when we hit Genoa. We also loved the city, and its accessibility, so we booked into the excellent Porto Antico marina, right in the middle of old Genoa, for 6 nights. It meant we could stroll into the city at any time, no messing about with tenders and finding somewhere to set foot on land. Long showers, unlimited water, clean clothes, ah ... the life of luxury.

Entrance to the Palazzo Reale

Genoan street

Moorish influence to the churches? 

Church tower

Genoa was a major power in medieval times, and the city is overflowing with grand palaces. We visited two, the Palazzo Reale and the Palazzo Rosso.

Palazzo Reale

... used by major wealthy traders in the 1600's

The famous hall of mirrors

King of Sardinia added a throne room when he bought the house

Baroque furnishings

Balcony overlooks the Genoa port

Exterior of the Palace

Pond in the garden

Period bedroom

Sitting room

We also loved the street life in Genoa. There is a sizeable African community, so we had a great
 meal in a Senegal restaurant. We love train travel, and there is a historic narrow gauge rail line that runs  from its own station at Genova Piazza Manin into the mountains behind Genoa to the scenic town of Castella. It was an hour trip each way into the cooler mountains, with a stroll around the town and markets at Castella.

Enjoying a Senegal meal

Taking the train into the hills

Meagan training it.

Arriving at Castella

Street market at Castella

We thoroughly enjoyed our respite from rocking and rolling in Genoa, but thought to venture further afield. With the great railways here, our next adventure will be to Turin. Arrivederci!