Rapallo, Portofino, and a walk to Chiavari

9.98 miles walked (not including the miles walked to and in Portofino)

The reason I had walked to Rapallo, more than any other reason, was because it was very close to Portofino. I could not stay in Portofino, of course, since it was a bit above my price range. However, I could pass through, and even though it would mean an extra long walking day with little overall progress made, I decided to take the plunge.

After getting all the information I needed from the helpful tourist office at Rapallo, I made my way to the bus stop, which would speed me to Portofino. On the way to the bus stop I had one of those rare soul connections with Germana, who was a Reiki master, had traveled extensively in Brasil, and who reached out to me by way of asking about my trekking poles, ever the conversation starters.

Hopping on the bus, I realize that I do not have a great deal of time to run around. Instead of heading to the out-of-the-way San Fruttuoso, I will have to skip it, opting instead for a walk from S. Margherita Ligure to Portofino. This walk is not a very easy one either, and so I waste a good deal of energy on a walk simply for pleasure, as it is completely out of my way. Still, how can I miss Portofino? I don't want to incite a blog revolt, after all.

Arriving at the town, I get the feeling that this is not the place for me. It's just a little too manicured, a little too fancy-schmancy, for a backpacker. Still, it's absolutely beautiful, and I decide to walk to the lighthouse, which is on the tip of the point. Once I reach the point, I stare out blankly at the sea for a good ten minutes, eat a lunch around 3:30 of one peach, five plums, an orange, and some focaccia (a Ligurian staple), finally find my yacht (had been looking all over for it), barely miss the 4:00 boat back to Rapallo, decide I can't wait for the 5:00, take the sweaty bus back, and only at 5:15 do I start the long uphill walk to Chiavari.

Four miles uphill, a couple frustrated shouts into the air, but finally I make the top, and I power through the last two miles to the campground. I eat dinner in an Irish (or English, couldn't tell) pub, eat focaccia col formaggio and a focaccia-speck-gorgonzola sandwich, drink two glorious pints of Irish beer, and watch my first full soccer match, an Inter Milan - AS Roma nail-biter that goes into penalties. I can't wait for soccer season to reach full pitch here!