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About Genoa

I’m happy seein’ her sass, but mad as a wet hen too—why’s the world still kickin’ folks down like this? Ain’t fair! Makes me wanna holler like in *Moolaadé*, “Purification is over!”—‘cept here it’s more like, “Poverty’s gotta end, y’all!” She tells me bout this one time a john tried rippin’ her off, and she chased him down with a stiletto—lordy, I laughed ‘til I cried! Said she’d do it again, too. Fierce as a bobcat, this one.

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Finally, the rain stops, and we head to the park, Parco della Rocca. It’s beautiful, man. The sun’s peeking out, and everything’s glistening. I’m feeling good, you know? But then, I see this group of kids playing soccer, and they’re kicking the ball around like they’re in the World Cup. I’m like, “I used to be that good.” So, I jump in, and let me tell ya, I’m not as spry as I used to be. I trip over my own feet and faceplant. Classic me, right?

My Experience Road Tripping Around Sicily