Sept 12. The last two days in the Med were scary. Balancing between a challenge and risk is not easy. Still learning as I go, though I have kayaked more than most during their lifetime.

Left Albenga, Italy on Monday. The morning was perfect with a light beeeze  


As I paddled the winds picked up. Still doable. Followed the plan and crossed over the bay of Savona. Here things got tough. Ending up capsizing by a shipyard. The waves were hitting a sea wall and rebounding. A rubber duck in a washing machine. Anyways floated a ways and re-entered in calmer water. 


After Savona, I paddled another hour to a little hideaway between Peorile and  Celle Ligure. Had a good night.  

The sun is rising over Genoa. Today I will get there.  

The sun is rising over Genoa. Today I will get there.  

Sept 12. I paddle in choppy waters for 14 km. Feel concentration is down. See a small port and go for it. A man greets me at the pier. He later buys me coffee, cola and a salty bread roll.  I also meet Paulo, a super guy who gives me some advice. 


I head out towards Genoa. The water is choppy and swells are high. I feel uncomfortable but am still in my comfort zone. (hah. Does that make sense?) I see a container terminal and paddle inside along the seawall. On the other side are large crashing waves. I am so happy to be on the inside. Legal or not. (Found out later it was legal).  


Around the bend is a canoe club called Gruppo Canal Palmarese. I head for that. I had checked this out a couple days ago. It was too choppy to get to Pegli. 


Here, I meet Stefano, a young doctor. We talk and talk to others. Before I know it, I have landed a ride to Piacenza. I actually cried. A bit overwhelming after all my friends and Christina have worked so diligently to land a ride. Wow. Arrive and within 39 minutes land a 2.5 hour ride. Wow!!! 

Luciano and I drive to Piacenza. L to R. Luciano. Stefano. Mark and man. 

Luciano and I drive to Piacenza. L to R. Luciano. Stefano. Mark and man. 

We set off. Two kindred spirits. What a lovely man. 


I arrive at the place I thought would work to get into the PO. I meet a great group of Italian boys. We talk for 1.5 hours. I get a nice shower at a club. And eat a duck pasta dish at a local restaurant. Out of the Med. Into the PO. 

These guys were great. Interested and full of questions. Impressed with Andrea. What a nice guy. 


I told them that I had lost my fleece. Alessandro got up, drove home and within ten minutes was back. He gave me one of his fleece jackets. 


The PO will wind through Italy. What lies ahead? I feel more a mental strain than physical. Like refugees, I never know what tomorrow holds. I just know the destination. How, and when I get there, is another thing.