Portofino

I thought my train would leave at 8 a.m., but in reality, it was at 6:50. I only realized this around 6:25. The night before, after my visit to the spa, I must have looked a little too relaxed at the train tickets in my wallet.

But hey, I’m organized. Seven minutes later, with freshly brushed teeth and a packed suitcase, I was already standing at reception to check out. Then a 12-minute power walk to Termini (fast, very fast), which even left me enough time for a quick espresso. Burned my tongue, of course. Then straight onto the train. That sprint to the station gave me a pretty good preview of what awaited me later in Bogliasco.

Less than five hours later, after an uneventful ride with one transfer, I arrived in Liguria - Bogliasco to be precise. Options: walk, taxi, or wait for the campsite’s shuttle? I decided against being driven up. I’ve always hauled myself uphill under my own steam. This time, though, I had a heavy backpack with me and, let’s be honest, I’m not as fit as I once was. Still, I love sweating my way up a hill. So: 150 meters elevation gain over 1 km, with 42 kg (yes, according to the airport scale) on my back. And what do you know, I made it up surprisingly well.

At the top, I went straight to reception. The guy looked at me, saw how I stripped off my gear, walked right up without pausing, and started talking without even being out of breath. That made an impression. After a bit of back and forth, he upgraded me to a bigger mobile home, no extra charge (though I had offered to pay).

Dropped my stuff and headed back down into the village, first stop: cappuccino at the little bar near the station, served by the beautiful red-haired waitress (don’t worry, she’s way too young for me). Pity I don’t speak Italian. Then off to the supermarket and back up to the campsite. And because that wasn’t enough, and the sun was still out, I hiked another 350 meters up to Santa Croce, rocky paths, new hiking shoes breaking in, and a gorgeous sunset at the top. Back down in the dark, dinner at DaBerto, then straight to bed… only to wake up at 3 a.m. to join a work call with my team in Australia.

The next morning, first things first: cappuccino at DaBerto, maybe two or three. Then down to the village again, enough time for another coffee at the café by the station, before catching the train toward Camogli. An hour later I was in Recco and just kept walking, all the way to San Fruttuoso, where I rewarded myself with, you guessed it, another coffee. This time I skipped the ferry and hiked back up the same way. By the time I reached the top it was only around 2 p.m., so I still had time to explore the Portofino Natural Park.

One spot is called Paradiso, you reach it via a narrow trail, and suddenly you’re standing on a concrete platform with a breathtaking view over the Gulf of Naples. Right beneath you, the cliff drops 500 meters straight down. A few years ago, with my fear of heights, I never would have set foot there. But now? No problem. Something inside me has shifted. Around 6 p.m. I made it down, switched back into my old shoes (my feet were wrecked), and then my phone buzzed: a message from Trenitalia, of course in Italian. A strike on Friday, October 3rd, the day I was supposed to head to Barcelona.

Great. Options flashing through my head, I hobbled to the ferry terminal nearby. Luck was finally on my side: the last ferry left in ten minutes. I actually love this kind of thing, forced improvisation. By the time I got to Camogli to catch the sunset, I already had a backup plan. No big deal, I’d still make it to Barcelona in time for my conference. That evening, I trudged back up to the campsite, counting over 40,000 steps for the day. No wonder my feet were killing me. Too tired for DaBerto, I went straight to bed… only to wake up again for more calls with my team.

The next day: same routine, but this time I took the ferry directly to San Fruttuoso. A quick half-hour coffee break, then off to Portofino. Climbed up to the castle, soaked in the view, then wandered out to the lighthouse. That peninsula is stunning, especially when you’re listening to melancholy music. Around 3 p.m. I decided to hike over to Recco for the sunset. The climb, the forest, the views, it was perfect.

And somewhere along the trail, I caught myself comparing who I am now to who I was a year ago. Back then, I was stuck. This past year? Change. Growth. Challenge. I’m not bored anymore. And finally, free. That part took a long time, but at some point, you just have to make a decision instead of dragging things out. Ending something is never easy, but sometimes it’s the best decision, not just for you, but for everyone involved.

And me? I’m actually good at closing doors. Not just running away, but really shutting a door and never looking back. One of my better traits, in this sense....