Adunata Genoa 2026 · Day 2: Portofino

Adunata Diary · Instalment 2 of 5

From Rapallo to Santa Margherita, Portofino and San Fruttuoso, with a quick visit to Sestri

Early in the morning, under a sky still pale that the sun had not yet fully claimed, the Chiavari bowls club woke to the call of coffee made in the moka pot by Ciano (Fratta) and of the focacce brought from our Dolomites, even though round here Ligurian focaccia is almost a sacrament.

We eat standing up, beside the marquee, shaking off the last crumbs of sleep. The day looks promising.

By train to Rapallo

The plan was to board at Chiavari, but our “You know when you leave, but you never know when you’ll arrive” style led us to overestimate our expertise, and at the harbour there was not so much as a shadow of a boat or ferry. So we decide to move to Rapallo and set off from there. Assuming we manage it.

After meeting the Alpini of the Gemona Section (UD), who were on their way to the Gaslini Hospital to hand over a donation collected by their Group (8th Alpini Regiment Venzone) — and not without giving them a couple of our “anti-rape” whistles — we board the train in our usual cheerful jumble of hats and black feathers, and in a few minutes we have arrived.

The morning coffee in a bar in the centre of Rapallo is, as always among Alpini away from home, a chance to make new friends: we are approached by a Bellunese from Santa Giustina, who settled here years ago, immediately recognises our hats and is moved to hear the accent of home.

Shortly afterwards none other than the deputy mayor of Rapallo arrives, greets us warmly and gives us the most Ligurian gift imaginable: a bottle of excellent Vermentino, to be drunk — he urges us — while looking at the sea. We will do so later, to his health, on board the boat. We leave the merry company, not without having sung a fine Bionda Petenète as a serenade to Dr Boschini, the accountant on the first floor, who had leaned out of her office window to wave.

From the landing stage, towards the promontory

At the Rapallo landing stage the boat is waiting for us. We set sail for Santa Margherita Ligure, Portofino and San Fruttuoso: an outing none of us will easily forget. The sea is a blue that hardly seems real, the promontory plunges sheer into the water, the maritime pines are mirrored in the coves.

Portofino, with its picture-postcard little harbour, appears to us like a precious miniature; San Fruttuoso, with its abbey set among the rocks, has instead the hushed solemnity of places that have watched centuries pass in silence.

“That strange kind of hat”

What surprises us throughout the outing is the number of foreigners who come up to us to ask for a photograph with us. Americans, Germans, Japanese, Australians: all intrigued by “that strange hat”, “diese seltsame Mütze”, by that strange green headgear with the feather that we wear so naturally.

Patiently, with the little English we can muster and a great deal of Italian gesticulating, we explain what the Alpini are, where we come from, why we are here. The photos multiply, and so do the hugs of thanks. For a few hours we feel like ambassadors of an Italy that still cuts a fine figure in the world.

The “Ligurian mess” in Santa Margherita

After the outing, the “Ligurian mess” in Santa Margherita was a must. Trofie with pesto, focaccia, mixed fried fish, fried anchovies, white wine from the Cinque Terre. At the table we are joined by our friend Mosè Sommavilla, who came by motorbike from Vigevano to share this day by the sea with his comrades of old. And meanwhile news arrives that our “edelweiss” (Marilisa, Lorenza, Dodo and Lorella) have set off to join us and celebrate together with Mara, who is already waiting for them over in Genoa, and they are already making friends at the Autogrill…

Lunch turns, needless to say, into an Alpini songbook — to the amused astonishment of the neighbouring tables, who start clapping in time.

Sestri Levante, flags in the wind

Back at the bowls club we discover that more reinforcements are waiting for us: Mauro and Alfredo have arrived too. With them we treat ourselves to a stroll through the historic centre of Sestri Levante, decked out for the occasion with tricolours and pennants hanging from the balconies and swaying in the sea breeze.

The little town is beautiful: the Bay of Silence on one side, the Bay of Fables on the other, and in between a maze of colourful lanes that invite you to get lost, with people watching us curiously: the Alpini are peacefully invading Liguria!

Under the marquee, songs and toasts

The evening ends as it began: around the long table of the bowls club, beside the marquee over the playing courts, amid songs that go on until late and toasts that follow one after another. Mosè tells of his adventures on the motorbike, Mauro and Alfredo give an update on their drive down the motorway to the camp, someone improvises a personal version of Quel mazzolin di fiori.

The electric lights flicker a little, as if they too had caught our cheerfulness. And we go to bed with our hearts and minds already full of beautiful images to put on our personal noticeboards.

Tomorrow — at last — we go up to Genoa. The great mother of the 2026 Adunata awaits us. And we are ready.

— from the travel notebook of the Gruppo Alpini di Salce