In The Seagull, the well-traveled physician Dorn, the playwright Anton Chekhov’s alter ego, enumerates the many reasons he loves Genoa above all other cities. Chekhov had stayed there in the summer of 1894.
I might have been drawn to Genoa by this testimonial alone. But my daughter’s recent move there spurred me to visit the midpoint of the Italian Riviera, which extends from the French border and curves east to Tuscany. The dolce vita playgrounds of Portofino and Santa Margherita Ligure are less than 30 miles from central Genoa, and a few miles west roost the pastel villages of the Cinque Terre. The whole coast, and the city that anchors it, is doused in buttery Mediterranean light.
Its relative obscurity among travelers is likely due to the somewhat misguided perception of Genoa as a derelict port town, but two new hotels are poised to change that. In time, it may be elevated into the same conversation dominated by Milan, Rome, Venice, and the Amalfi Coast.
For a northern city, Genoa, with its balmy piazzas and fringes of palms, feels like a southern one. Lying at the foot of the Ligurian Apennines, the city has an undulating topography, with steep stairways and several funiculars.
With the exception of one bulky cruise ship in the harbor (ironically, many are built in Genoese shipyards), the view from the Castelletto neighborhood in the filmy coastal light looked like a faded 19th-century postcard.
One of the first surprises in Genoa was olfactory. Laced between the usual threads of espresso and tobacco smoke were wafts of the sea, incense, and focaccia baking under blankets of olive oil. The scent of basil lingers in the caruggi, the slender alleyways that snake throughout the center. Pesto originated in Genoa, and the city nearly swims in it. Another Genoese specialty, panera, is coffee-flavored chilled whipped cream with the texture of cheesecake.
History seeps from the cobblestones. Genoa is the birthplace of Christopher Columbus, and although contemporary historians cast him as a colonial land-grabber, there is a reproduction of his cramped childhood home and a marble statue presiding over the Piazza Principe. In 1992, on the 500th anniversary of his first voyage to what would be named “America,” Genoese architect Renzo Piano reimagined the Old Port. He transformed the rough, industrial waterfront into something wondrous, including a biosphere and aquarium, with white exterior pipes similar to those at Paris’s Centre Pompidou, which he and Richard Rogers designed in 1977.
In time, it may be elevated into the same conversation dominated by Milan, Rome, Venice, and the Amalfi Coast.
Along with Piano, Admiral Andrea Doria is another local hero. As ruler of Genoa from 1528 to 1560, he ushered in the city-state’s golden age by striking an agreement with Holy Roman Emperor Charles V for financiers to bankroll Europe’s monarchies with a system of loans. Genoa became the wealthiest city in the world.
Banking magnates stood in for the royal family the city lacked, and they constructed extravagant show palaces end to end on Via Garibaldi and beyond. There, they could receive politicians, kings, ambassadors, and cardinals, and strike lucrative deals in regal style. They were called Palazzi dei Rolli, or Palaces of the List, a roster of Baroque and Renaissance mansions worthy of welcoming distinguished guests. UNESCO anointed 42 of the 163 buildings World Heritage sites, recognizing their rare cultural significance.
“Everyone who discovers Genoa says, I can’t believe what a treasure it is,” says architect Emanuela Brignone Cattaneo, sitting in the pomegranate-red lounge of her new hotel, Palazzo Durazzo Suites. Consisting of 12 rooms—for now—it is a beautifully refurbished, 11,000-square-foot palace that has belonged to her husband’s family for 400 years.
Only a few minutes’ walk from stately Via Garibaldi, Palazzo Durazzo is the only Rolli palace that overlooks the sea. Its neighborhood is grittier than the medieval center but faithful to Genoa’s history. “This area represents what the port has always been, and you feel it: many nationalities, merchants, and contradictions,” says Brignone Cattaneo.
The palazzo is one of several constructed in the 1600s by the Durazzo family, who were wealthy bankers with origins in Albania. Stefano Durazzo, an ancestor of Brignone Cattaneo’s husband, Giacomo Cattaneo Adorno, became doge of Genoa and decorated it to appeal to foreign dignitaries. A ground-floor guest room contains original frescoes linked to the sea and depicting the four rivers of his domain.
The property had been “absolutely destroyed” by time and weather, and in 2017, the couple, along with designer Cesare Barro, began renovating. Each room contains the original terrazzo floor and is embellished with an artifact representing a journey, a nod to Genoa’s maritime and economic supremacy.
“Genoa has many souls,” says retailer Lorenzo Bagnara. His family’s lifestyle emporium, Via Garibaldi 12, occupies an entire floor of a Rolli palace. It’s as if Moss, New York’s late, great design boutique, had a love child with the Palace of Versailles, resulting in an exquisitely frescoed showcase for Richard Ginori tableware, Holo Pillar tables, and the work of assorted Genoese design talents.
After a 10-minute train ride to the east side of town, I arrived at Capitolo Riviera, which sits on a palm-lined street next to manicured parks in the seaside town of Nervi (still in Genoa city limits). After the pandemic, native-Genoese Paolo Doragrossa and his partners bought a shuttered hotel from the 1970s and fixed it up, adding a swimming pool and several rooms. It opened in July 2024. Some balconies have views of handsome 19th-century villas and the Ligurian Sea.
Refined but not informal, Capitolo Riviera reflects its beachy surroundings but is mindful of its geographical proximity to fancy Portofino. “We want to promote Nervi as the first village of the Riviera,” says Doragrossa.
Just down the block lies a one-and-a-half-mile coastal promenade, which is buttressed by sloping crags of sedimentary rock. Facing east are the scrub-covered cliffs of Portofino Natural Park. There, cafés grill fresh branzino and vendors heap Ligurian-rose gelato into cups. There is no sand on the beaches at Nervi, but ladders ease swimmers into the water. All this is eight miles from the city center.
“Genoa deserves to be known,” says Brignone Cattaneo. There is only one Starbucks, and independent stores such as Gigliobagnara are flourishing. But change is imminent. A high-speed railway to Milan, expected to be completed in 2025, will allow travelers to make the trip in less than an hour. Genoa will no longer be anyone’s secret.
Marcia DeSanctis is a contributing writer at Travel + Leisure and writes essays and stories for Vogue, Town & Country, Departures, and BBC Travel. Her collection of travel essays, A Hard Place to Leave: Stories from a Restless Life, is out now
