All-in-all, Genoa seemed to reflect my view of Italy which was one of terrible disappointment. I wanted to love Italy. I really did. I’ve seen Under a Tuscan Sun. I’ve read Elizabeth David and Norman Lewis. I’ve watched Jamie Oliver and Rick Stein go on and on and on about fresh pasta and sun-ripened tomatoes and massive handfuls of fresh basil and huge glasses of rustic red wine. But somehow, despite the impressive sights of Rome, Italy was the country that least inspired me to explore further. I hope I am wrong. I hope that the wonderful Italy of my imagination exists. And I will, at some point in the future, give it another chance. I will go back in the hope of finding the Italy of Jamie and Rick and Elizabeth and that bloody Tuscan sun. I hope it all works out. But on this journey, Italy did not deliver.