Savona to Celle Ligure to Vesima - A walk along the water

8/9 - Savona - Celle Ligure - 4.4 measly miles

8/10 - Celle Ligure - Vesima - 13.19 miles

Savona to Celle Ligure - The Stroll 

Once I had settled in to the good life, it was hard for me to pack up and keep moving.  As it was, I had a really late start out of Savona, and by the time I had eaten some lunch, it was already past 3:30.

Not that I was planning on going anywhere far.  I wanted to see as much of this coast as possible, and so resolved to cool the jets for a few days.

Still, I felt like a bum when the signs for the campground I had found in Celle Ligure popped up only an hour out of the city.  Fighting the urge to continue, I made my way toward my campsite, threw my tent together, and headed back toward the refreshing sea.

This campground was a bit different from the last one, which had been in a sort of bungalow neighborhood/refugee camp.  All the campsites were on terraces along the hillside, most with views of the water.  This being Saturday evening, most of the best spots were already taken, but I managed to find a shady, secluded little spot with a peek at the water.

Lounging and wading until sunset, I made my way back to the tent, where after digging through my vast wardrobe of three shirts and two pants, I finally found something to wear for dinner.

Though it was a tad touristy, the town of Celle Ligure was very charming, full of brightly colored buildings and winding alleyways.  I made a commitment to myself to take more evening pictures, once I realized that I had left my camera behind.

Since I always try to eat the local cuisine, I had troffie al pesto (troffie are a squished, cyllindrical version of gnocchi, made from potato and flour) and a fried mixture of seafood, and enjoyed both thoroughly.

The next morning, I fought the urge to return once again to the sea before continuing my trek, and instead availed myself of the world-class amenities provided by this particular campsite.  Most campsites are the same, but this one was worthy of its second star, if only for the masterful installation of the latest and greatest in creature comforts: stainless steel handles  in front of "the hole."  I would like to shake the man's hand who developed these handles (though they probably came straight from Leonardo Da Vinci's sketchbook).

Anyhow, enough of that crap...

Celle Ligure to Vesima, a search for food, and observations on the beach culture

Since it was Sunday, I had to find the first open market and buy what I needed for the day.  A select few markets stay open on 

Sunday, but only from 8-12:30, so it was imperative that I not be picky, but instead enter the first one I saw.

Bonanza!  A supermarket was open.  I splurged, as I tend to do in Italian supermarkets: two peaches, three plums, bread, 100 grams of prosciutto (roughly a quarter pound), water, and a bar of chocolate.

Feeling fortunate, I continued my walk, and then it hit me: I'm in a vacation town, and everything is open.  This part of Liguria is where Torinesi and Milanesi go for an economical holiday, as it is the closest stretch of beach to those major metropolitan areas.    It was a very unique experience to see a vast majority of Italians on holiday, since most Italian vacation spots are dominated by tourists of other nationalities.

The beach culture here is different from the culture in San Diego, my particular paragon.  The beach is essentially broken into pieces by various bars, which rent out chairs, umbrellas, and lockers to bathers.  They offer food and drink service, fussball tables galore, and every once in a while, a soccer-volleyball court.  Personally, I wouldn't pay for a beach chair if you paid me, but here it's the norm, and who am I to say anything?

As it is, I am already quite the oddity here, with my trekking poles, bag, and shoes.  In fact, I'm starting to feel a bit like a freak show exhibit.  Italians love to stare, and Italians on holiday even more so.

Feeling a bit lazy after the baby steps I had taken the previous day, 

I went a bit further than expected, getting all the way to Vesima.  I arrived at 4:30, and predictably, hit the beach until 7.

I had a pizza and a beer next to a long-distance biker, who was planning to go to Provence in France, and then take the train back to Emilia Romagna, his home.  We had a good time comparing experiences, laughing together about being "that guy."

Exhausted from all that walking and swimming, I hit the sack hard, and prepared for my walk into Genova the following day.