It is a place that 'grows upon you' every day. There seems to be
always something to find out in it. There are the most
extraordinary alleys and by-ways to walk about in. You can lose
your way (what a comfort that is, when you are idle!) twenty times
a day, if you like; and turn up again, under the most unexpected
and surprising difficulties. It abounds in the strangest
contrasts; things that are picturesque, ugly, mean, magnificent,
delightful, and offensive, break upon the view at every turn.
They who would know how beautiful the country immediately
surrounding Genoa is, should climb (in clear weather) to the top of
Monte Faccio, or, at least, ride round the city walls: a feat more
easily performed. No prospect can be more diversified and lovely
than the changing views of the harbour, and the valleys of the two
rivers, the Polcevera and the Bizagno, from the heights along which
the strongly fortified walls are carried, like the great wall of
China in little. In not the least picturesque part of this ride,
there is a fair specimen of a real Genoese tavern, where the
visitor may derive good entertainment from real Genoese dishes,
such as Tagliarini; Ravioli; German sausages, strong of garlic,
sliced and eaten with fresh green figs; cocks' combs and sheep-
kidneys, chopped up with mutton chops and liver; small pieces of
some unknown part of a calf, twisted into small shreds, fried, and
served up in a great dish like white-bait; and other curiosities of
that kind.
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