The next day my eyes snapped open at 6am and I lay in bed watching the light creep in from the small window in the slanted attic roof above. It was a bright cloudless sunny day perfect for our gita di Camogli and Portofino in Liguria. Elena, Alberto and Paolo were all in matching white and blue combos - they looked so cute as a famiglia. We had colazione of brioche and cappucino at a local pasticceria before going on the 2-hour car ride. Paolo was very well-behaved and soon fell asleep as we pulled away from Milano.
The scenery revealed wonderful vistas of the azzuro sea as our car zipped in and out of the tunnels carved from the hills. Mid-way I felt a little carsick and joked with Alberto 'Posso vomitare in tua macchina?' (Can I vomit in your car?) As we got closer to Camogli, I pointed out to F the typically Ligurian houses and their beautiful handpainted designs which decorated the windows and facades. Some patterns were very elaborate stretching across whole walls. The last time I took so many pictures of them in Varese and Cinque Terre.
At Camogli, the sun was blazing down in full force and even little Paolo was squinting from his stroller. The sky and the sea seemed like an infinite blanket of azzuro. The air was heavy with late summer heat which didn't affect the already troppo abbronzati italians grilling like salsiccia on the pebbled beach. Alberto agreed that these people were too tanned, he didn't like the sun while Ele gleefully said she loved it!
We stopped for a merenda of the local foccacia - thin baked pasta sheets topped with a creamy soft cheese Crescenza. Soooo goooood. I couldn't resist buying the traditional foccacia bread studded with olives, as well as una tortina di carciofi (artichokes) for dinner later because I was molto curiosa e gelosa! We walked around the scenic cosy harbour, crowded with various fishing boats and yachts, and dreamt about owning a bella casa con una balcone here. Property prices had gone through the roof in the last decade so we just had to dream for now.
Their favourite ristorante was closed so we went to Golfo Paradiso which was perched above the beach, where F and I exchanged our trofie al pesto (fresh tight curls of pasta topped with a fragrant basilico sauce typical of Liguria) and spaghetti alla vongole, the little buggers bursting with flavour. Ele and Alb had misti frutti di mare while Paolo nibbled on latte, pane, biscotti and some of my trofie. We grabbed some gelato before leaving Camogli for the famoso glamourous town of Portofino, passing by the quaint Santa Margarita.
I've heard about Portofino, the playground for the rich, famous and beautiful. It didn't look that different from the other postcard-perfect seafront towns I've visited - the only tell-tale signs are the expensive boutiques (art, jewellery, luxury clothings ecc) and huge, huge yachts and super liners. Alberto stayed in the macchina to babysit Paolo who was sleeping while we ladies strolled to the porto to admire the sleek 3-storey liners and inquired the boys if there were any celebrities onboard. Nope, no George Clooney in sight, darn.
We drove home shortly towards evening; the journey took longer than going there as the brutto traffico clot the autostrada towards Milano. Everyone was going home in rush hour and Alberto pointed out that there was only una persona in ogni macchina. E' vero. They probably haven't learnt the concept of car-pooling here. My bladder was quite full and I was trying to distract Paolo who was feeling quite restless, strapped into his baby seat. That night we had two guests over - Andrea and Giovanna - amici of the famiglia, who also got to taste the mooncakes, a novelty which grew on them.
The next day my eyes snapped open at 6am and I lay in bed watching the light creep in from the small window in the slanted attic roof above. It was a bright cloudless sunny day perfect for our gita di Camogli and Portofino in Liguria. Elena, Alberto and Paolo were all in matching white and blue combos - they looked so cute as a famiglia. We had colazione of brioche and cappucino at a local pasticceria before going on the 2-hour car ride. Paolo was very well-behaved and soon fell asleep as we pulled away from Milano. 
The scenery revealed wonderful vistas of the azzuro sea as our car zipped in and out of the tunnels carved from the hills. Mid-way I felt a little carsick and joked with Alberto 'Posso vomitare in tua macchina?' (Can I vomit in your car?) As we got closer to Camogli, I pointed out to F the typically Ligurian houses and their beautiful handpainted designs which decorated the windows and facades. Some patterns were very elaborate stretching across whole walls. The last time I took so many pictures of them in Varese and Cinque Terre.
At Camogli, the sun was blazing down in full force and even little Paolo was squinting from his stroller. The sky and the sea seemed like an infinite blanket of azzuro. The air was heavy with late summer heat which didn't affect the already troppo abbronzati italians grilling like salsiccia on the pebbled beach. Alberto agreed that these people were too tanned, he didn't like the sun while Ele gleefully said she loved it! 
We stopped for a merenda of the local foccacia - thin baked pasta sheets topped with a creamy soft cheese Crescenza. Soooo goooood. I couldn't resist buying the traditional foccacia bread studded with olives, as well as una tortina di carciofi (artichokes) for dinner later because I was molto curiosa e gelosa! We walked around the scenic cosy harbour, crowded with various fishing boats and yachts, and dreamt about owning a bella casa con una balcone here. Property prices had gone through the roof in the last decade so we just had to dream for now. 
Their favourite ristorante was closed so we went to Golfo Paradiso which was perched above the beach, where F and I exchanged our trofie al pesto (fresh tight curls of pasta topped with a fragrant basilico sauce typical of Liguria) and spaghetti alla vongole, the little buggers bursting with flavour. Ele and Alb had misti frutti di mare while Paolo nibbled on latte, pane, biscotti and some of my trofie. We grabbed some gelato before leaving Camogli for the famoso glamourous town of Portofino, passing by the quaint Santa Margarita.
I've heard about Portofino, the playground for the rich, famous and beautiful. It didn't look that different from the other postcard-perfect seafront towns I've visited - the only tell-tale signs are the expensive boutiques (art, jewellery, luxury clothings ecc) and huge, huge yachts and super liners. Alberto stayed in the macchina to babysit Paolo who was sleeping while we ladies strolled to the porto to admire the sleek 3-storey liners and inquired the boys if there were any celebrities onboard. Nope, no George Clooney in sight, darn.
We drove home shortly towards evening; the journey took longer than going there as the brutto traffico clot the autostrada towards Milano. Everyone was going home in rush hour and Alberto pointed out that there was only una persona in ogni macchina. E' vero. They probably haven't learnt the concept of car-pooling here. My bladder was quite full and I was trying to distract Paolo who was feeling quite restless, strapped into his baby seat. That night we had two guests over - Andrea and Giovanna - amici of the famiglia, who also got to taste the mooncakes, a novelty which grew on them.
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