Camogli to Sestri Levante

It was after midnight when my train pulled into Moneglia. Elisa was waiting at the station. Both freshly released from work, she in Genova and I in La Spezia, we'd decided to team up to do nothing. However, relaxing as it was meant to be, we ended up doing nothing in 3 different towns along the Ligurian coast, from Sestri Levante to Camogli. All were blindingly bright little seaside towns, packed with Italian sunbathers. By afternoon we pulled into Camogli, backed by the same mountain that extends south to Portofino, the walls and shutters of its clustered apartment blocks as saturated with peeling pinks, reds and yellows as any other in Italy. We found a resting spot beneath a crumbling old architectural mess that was castle, church and run-down apartment block combined and wasted the rest of the day. I've decided Liguria, the only state I'd really visited in Italy, is Italy's most beautiful.  

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