We were in Genoa for about half of a day, and we didn’t set out to see anything: we set out to have dinner. Along the way, we noticed:

• A million Vespas. This is the primary method of transportation here, and there are at least as many of them as there are cars. When we first arrived, I asked B if there was some kind of Vespa convention (like a Harley rally) happening that weekend.
• Many tiny, winding alleys, called caruggi. Much of the center is made of small streets hemmed in on both sides by stone buildings, with shops on the bottom and apartments on top. The apartments had small balconies, on which laundry hung to dry. The shops were as small as the streets. The corners where two winding alleys met often had an inset sculpture of the Virgin Mary, about ten feet off the ground. It was like a reward for attentiveness: these dark alleyways revealed beautiful artistic renderings of their denizen’s values. And it became clear why Vespas were such a popular form of transportation: cars would not have fit on these streets.
• A dozen churches. Unlike the Duomos in places like Milan or Turin, these churches did not have fancy doors or carefully-sculpted spires that climbed towards the clouds. They looked to be made of stucco or stone – colored coral or mint. They had a simple cross at the top, and just a few religious statues set into the building or above the doorway. And they were all located between tiny alleys, so when you walked up to them, you felt dwarfed by their heft, right in front of you. Unfortunately, I can’t speak to what was inside, since they were closed for the holiday, a day not unlike the US’ Labor Day.
• The well-known palaces – the Palazzo Rosso, and presumably the Palazzo Bianco, though we didn’t see a placard confirming the latter. They were closed for the day (or for the holiday), but what was more interesting were the buildings around them. For example, two buildings down was another palace-looking structure. If you peeked inside, you could see that the facade actually hid a courtyard inside the building, as if one building had been built around another one. On the ceiling of this outer building were vibrant frescoes: scenes of battle. And the inner building turned out to be a bank (now)!
• The waterfront – with the famous Aquarium, a giant ship, a kids play area with inflatable slides, cool under-the-bridge street art, and lots of vendors selling sunglasses or kitschy tourist ware.
• Several immigrant communities. There was an area in which each small shop seemed to be owned by African families, wearing colorfully-paterned dresses. Next to this community was a group of Arabic descent, with kebab stands and butchers, advertising their halal meat. And both groups seemed to be assimilating: many were speaking Italian, and their kids were playing soccer in the small alleyway in front of their parents’ shops.
• Very few English-speaking tourists. In fact, I only recall hearing two girls speaking English. I recognized plenty of French and Italian, some Spanish and Arabic (per the above), but we were more of a rarity. Unlike in other cities we’ve visited, I didn’t see English on the menus. It’s a good thing our understanding of food words has improved! The server at the gelateria asked if we were American, after Brandon ordered in partial English (once he saw that she spoke it). I had ordered in Italian, and I confirmed for her that we were indeed American, but that I spoke French and Russian too. She asked if Brandon only spoke English, and when we confirmed that, she seemed reassured to find her conceptions partially supported.
• General disregard for traffic rules. We had read that the further south we went, the more they would be considered guidelines. It seems that Genoa is far enough south for this to be the case. Our bus drivers ran several red lights, just over the course of our rides to the center and back. People crossed wherever they pleased, unfettered by things as pedestrian as crosswalks. (Pun intended.) Quite a contrast from more literal interpretations of traffic rules in northern Europe.