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).