#Piazza De Ferrari

[hopefulkidshark]

Piazza De Ferrari, Genoa, Italy: Piazza De Ferrari is the main square of Genoa. Situated in the heart of the city between the historical and the modern center, Piazza De Ferrari is renowned for its fountain, which was restored in recent years along with a major restyling of the square. Wikipedia

[famousinuniverse]

Piazza De Ferrari, Genoa, Italy: Piazza De Ferrari is the main square of Genoa. Situated in the heart of the city between the historical and the modern center, Piazza De Ferrari is renowned for its fountain, which was restored in recent years along with a major restyling of the square. Wikipedia

[wgm-beautiful-world]

Piazza de Ferrari, Genova, ITALIA

[monologhidiunamarea]

[parthenopehasnograve]

Piazza De Ferrari, Genova. Liguria © fabianavitulli

[leqclerc]

Sebastian/Charles (+Daniel) 1,042 words Anastasia AU ❄️✨ |  The Monégasque Revolution of 1910 was a series of confrontations by the subjects of Monaco against their ruler (...) It led to the end of absolute monarchy. (...) The Prince's Palace was also stormed by an angry mob who looted the palace. The prince escaped with the help of the Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince, and stayed in France until the riots died down. Soldiers of the Compagnie did try to defend the palace but ultimately failed after the day-long riot.

***

There’s something arresting about the way the afternoon sun catches on the façades of nearby buildings, casting a warm light across the Piazza Grande. The café is pleasantly quiet, the outdoor tables virtually unoccupied, which makes the intrusion all the more unexpected.

“Is this seat taken?” Daniel sits down across from Charles without waiting for a response, motioning for Sebastian to do the same.

He’s clutching a cup of espresso in one hand, already making himself comfortable. Sebastian is quiet beside him, carefully regarding Charles with an expression he can’t quite read.

“You speak French surprisingly well for someone who grew up in Italy, mate,” Daniel says. “Surely you didn’t just pick it up from the tourists.”

Charles’s brows draw together in confusion. “I—uh, I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?”

“We overheard your conversation with your colleague—about Paris—and we thought we’d extend you an offer.”

“Are you French?” Sebastian asks, before lowering his voice, conspiratorial. “Maybe you’re Monégasque?”

Charles stares at him blankly. “I’m a mechanic.”

“At old man Ferrari’s garage?”

“Yes.”

“And before that?” Daniel presses.

He’s met with silence. Charles looks past Daniel’s shoulder, somewhere, staring off into the distance. His face is set in a slight frown. There’s a headache blossoming in his temple, the same one he gets whenever he tries to dredge up childhood memories, always coming up empty.

“I don’t know,” he answers earnestly. “I don’t remember.”

***

It occurs to him, suddenly, that he probably shouldn’t be unwittingly divulging such information to a pair of complete strangers, no matter how interesting they seem.

“What is this about?”

Daniel reaches into the pocket of his jacket and produces a small card of some sort. He holds it up so it’s aligned with Charles’s face.

He whistles appreciatively, eyes flickering from the picture in his hand to Charles and back. “Uncanny, right?” he comments.

“You are talking about me as if I’m not even here,” Charles huffs, pushing his chair back and moving to leave.

“Hey, whoa, wait, what’s the rush?” Daniel reflexively springs from his seat. A trace of panic in his voice belies his nonchalant demeanor. Charles feels some satisfaction at that. “Just—relax, okay?”

“Seb,” he elbows him, “a little help, here, mate?”

“I know we’re not making any sense right now,” Sebastian starts. He’s the calmer of the two, and Charles wonders what his involvement in all of this is. “Please, sit,” he gestures, “and I promise we will explain everything.”

His tone is polite, measured; something about his expression draws Charles in. Against his better judgement, he lowers himself into the chair.

“Okay. You can start with your name.”

The introductions are brief. When Charles reveals his name, Daniel’s lips quirk into a smile, like he’s enjoying a private joke at his expense.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just thought—you know, why not Carlo? It’s the Italian equivalent, isn’t it?”

“It’s a common name,” Charles argues, a bit defensive. It’s the only name he’s ever known. He’s never questioned it, and he’s not about to start now.

His annoyance eases into curiosity when Sebastian slips the picture Daniel had been studying earlier across the table.

It’s a miniature portrait of a young boy dressed in fine clothes, posing against the backdrop of what appears to be a palace drawing room—there are gold accents on the walls, and rich crimson drapery is visible at the edge of the portrait. It looks like it’s been painted by hand, rather than photographed.

“You look like him,” Sebastian says. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Charles delicately traces the boy’s face with the tips of his fingers—the wide, doe-like eyes; the full rosy cheeks indented with dimples. His world resolutely doesn’t tilt off its axis; there’s no moment of clarity or spark of recognition, no puzzle pieces slotting neatly into place. He blinks and finds himself fundamentally unchanged, left with a vague sense of disappointment.

“It could be anyone.”

“Yeah, but it could be you,” Daniel points out. “The resemblance is striking. You even share the same name. That has to mean something.”

Charles shakes his head, as if to dislodge the thought. “No, it doesn’t.”

“It’s said that the remaining members of the royal family are still hoping to one day be reunited with the middle child; that they never stopped believing he survived the Revolution.”

Sebastian’s delivery sends a chill down Charles’s spine. “Well, I’m not sure they will find him in Modena.”

He’s still looking intently at the portrait in front of him. The young boy dutifully stares back.

“And I thought they are all gone. I don’t see why this has anything to do with me.”

Daniel laughs, suddenly, like he’s incredulous that they’ve reached a point where he has to spell it out so plainly, “It just so happens that we’re heading for Paris, too. You can tag along.”

“If I pretend to be somebody I am not,” Charles mutters.

“Ah, who said anything about pretending? You don’t have anything to lose. If you’re not the long lost royal they’re looking for, then no harm done—an honest mistake.” It sounds so simple, the way Sebastian says it.

“Find out the truth for yourself. Come to Paris with us,” Daniel adds. “C’mon. You know you want to.” He’s leaning forward now, the giddiness and optimism of impending adventure rolling off him in waves. Idly, Charles wonders if he’s like that about everything.

There’s no logical reason for him to be dragged into some ridiculous scheme; to upend his stable—if uneventful—life in favour of chasing something uncertain and very complicated, just because his interest has been piqued.

Charles’s internal debate must register on his face, judging by the silence that falls between the three of them. There’s still an out. Even so, he already finds himself hurtling towards a decision. Ensemble à Paris…

“Okay, yes, I will go with you,” he acquiesces.

“Yes, mate,” Daniel whoops at that, loud enough to earn him a stern glare from one of the waiters. Sebastian is smiling encouragingly when their eyes meet. He tips his head like he’s giving an imaginary toast. “To Paris, then.”

Charles feels his face warm. Maybe this will afford him some closure, whichever way it goes.

“To Paris,” he echoes softly.

[a-tarassia]

Sono tornati di moda i pantaloni larghi.

Ho visto che sono tornati di moda i pantaloni larghi e lunghi, quelli che quando cammini toccano il pavimento e io, oh ingenua, ne comprai uno già qualche mese fa e mi sono ricordata perché che avevo smesso.

Sono pratici niente, vi spiego.

Lasciando perdere che si portano appresso i detriti quando cammini un po' come un fiume in piena quando arriva alla foce si porta appresso travi, rami, cervi impagliati, sedie di plastica bianca dei bar di paese, lampadari stile liberty, lumini dei cimiteri, gatti morti così tu torni casa come un venditore ambulante piccolo casalinghi di San Lorenzo, se piove un po' peggio.

Ma la tragedia shakespeariana si ha nei cessi pubblici e io che sono frequentatrice suprema di cessi pubblici, che forse che sono sempre buttata in giro come un cencio sporco, mi ritrovo ogni volta disperata, che mi chiedo per cosa sono stata preventivamente punita quando mi hanno condannato femmina e quindi menomata a questa vita che evidentemente non ci aveva previsto a noi.

Quando vai nei cessi pubblici, soprattutto se unisex tu nel frattempo che eviti di prendere la gonorrea per contatto, sul bordo della tazza, devi evitare di fare risalire la melma del pavimento dalle gambe dei pantaloni per risalita capillare e quindi madonna aiutami.

Quindi entri nel cesso, guardi il cesso, guardi il pavimento e inizi a fare risvoltini su risvoltini, ma funziona il giusto, cioè niente, ti slacci il pantalone e ti cade il risvoltino, riprendi il risvoltino e come un funambolo tenendo i risvoltini all'altezza delle ginocchia ti metti in squat.

Inciso sugli squat: noi cromosoma xx siamo nate con il gene dello squat, smettetela di dirci di tenere il bacino indietro, se non sapessimo farlo non pisceremmo più fuori casa ziobono.

Dicevo ti prepari allo squat e cerchi di stare bene centrata nella tazza sennò una minima deviazione si rischia la fontana di piazza De Ferrari direttamente su mutande, pantalone, muri, il tipo che ti aspetta al tavolo al vostro primo appuntamento, nel frattempo tieni con una mano il cavallo dei pantaloni abbastanza lontano dalla tazza per evitare che le mutande acchiappino metà della popolazione dei batteri conosciuti all'uomo e con l'altra mano cerchi come puoi di tenere su le gambe dei pantaloni per evitare che il risvoltino che hai fatto si adagi nei pezzi di fango che galleggiano a terra.

Non penso di dover spiegare la misericordia quando la porta del cesso non si chiude o quando non c'è un appoggio per la borsa o tutte le combo insieme, io una volta a maiorca ho trovato una bici che occupava metà bagno e la tavoletta già pisciata.

Di solito andiamo in due perché l'altra fa il tifo.

Tre volte su dieci, oltre ad una malattia mi ritrovo pure un trauma mentale e poi brucio pantaloni, mutande, dignità.

Son belli i pantaloni larghi però.

[adventurebeforedementia]

Genoa and Cinque Terre

The Cinque Terre - five villages with brightly coloured houses built into the hillside on the rugged Italian Riviera coast and designated a Natural Park and a UNESCO World Heritage Site - were the main reason we made a stop in Genoa.

We could have stayed closer than the two hour before dawn train ride needed to reach them, but we also wanted to visit the city. So we decided to get up early, grab jam filled croissants for breakfast from the little bakery in the town and take the train.

Once the early morning commuters had left, it was a lovely ride with great views of the coastline before we arrived at Monterossa, the first village on our stop. This is the largest of the villages with a lovely beach and lemons, vines and olives growing on the hills.

From here, we could hike through the next four villages in six hours with stops. Don’t be ridiculous! it was so much more sensible to buy tickets for the Cinque Terre Express and take the train. It takes just five minutes to travel from one village to the next.

Next stop was Vernazza, probably the prettiest of the five. The sun shining across the port onto it’s coloured houses was just stunning.

These villages grew up as fishing communities and it’s said that the fishermen painted their houses in bright colours so they could see them from the sea. Each has its own castle, built as a fortress to protect the community from Turkish pirates.

We decided to miss out the third village as it is the least known and least visited with its lack of port and difficult accessibility. We needed to save time at some point on this journey if we were going to make it back in one day.

The final two villages were just as charming as the previous ones. At our final stop Riomaggiore, Alex persuaded me to take the cliff walk. Here we go again! Why do I always let him talk me into this? Pleased to say I made it, grabbing onto his hand a little too tightly at certain points, and loved the views.

After battling our way through the tourists to see these lovely places and with a couple of hours to spare, we found a beach bar and finished our visit with Pineapple Mojitos. Cheers!

Our visit to Genoa earlier in our stay had thrown up some interesting quirky facts, not least at the city’s Cathedral. This black and white marble building was hit during the Second World War by a shell fired by the British naval fleet. The bomb crashed through the church ceiling but failed to explode. Now it is on show to visitors in the church.

While sculptors were working on the Cathedral in the 14th Century, a little dog befriended them and came to sit with them every day. When he failed to return one day, the story goes that the sculptors were so sad they carved a statue of the dog sleeping, in the marble at the main entrance door. The tiny dog is still there to this day.

The city’s central square the Piazza De Ferrari, has a mix of buildings of different styles including the opera house. In the middle of the square stands an impressive giant brass fountain.

Our next stop was the Port of Genoa, the Porto Antico, which hosted the World Expo 1992. From there we walked through the old town with its narrow covered walkways and alleys, known as “caruggi”, which can be found in towns and cities along the Italian Riviera.

We have now swapped the Italian Riviera for the French Riviera and we are soaking up the sun in Cannes in the south of France.

[palazzideirolli]

Piano nobile di Palazzo Doge Ferretto, Piazza Ferretto 1, Genova

Situato a poca distanza da Palazzo Ducale e Piazza De Ferrari, fu edificato tra il XVI e il XVII secolo e fu residenza del doge Stefano Onorato Ferretti, dal quale deriva il nome.

📷: © @buccierostefano

#patrimonioculturale #genova #beniculturali #beniculturali30 #palazzideirolli #genova #genovamorethanthis #rollidays #liguria #igersgenova #architecture #viagaribaldi #ilsecoloxix #museitaliani #mibact #art # #culturalheritage #arte #italy #cultura #igersitalia #wonderfulplaces #musei #unesco

[citronsdor]

Genova | Piazza de Ferrari #genova #genes #genoa #piazza #piazzadeferrari #centrostorico #borsadigenova #facade #architecture #archilovers #liberty #art #italia #italy #liguria #ligurie #city #urban #monument #visitgenova #palazzo #palazzodellaborsa #nuovaborsa #holidays #vacances #vacanze #genovese #citta #architettura #stileliberty (à Palazzo della Borsa (Genova)) https://www.instagram.com/p/CiFav7TtVf-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Genoa, Italy: National Demonstration against NATO 

Saturday, December 3 - 14.30

Piazza de Ferrari, Genoa

Italy is out of the war, for peace between peoples!

Against sanctions and weapons shipments, for neutrality!

Against U.S. bases and armaments in our country, for national independence!

[unapinetaamare718]

Siamo nati a Genova, e quando abbiamo visto la luce era quella della Lanterna.

La vita di noi Genovesi è scandita da certezze minime, ma in compenso indiscutibili.

A Genova la gente si lamenta sempre.

A Genova la gente non è cordiale con il turista.

A Genova non ci sappiamo fare con l’ospitalità.

A Genova siamo musoni, schivi, diffidenti, intolleranti, non sorridiamo mai e bla bla bla.

Le altre città sono larghe.

Genova è lunga.

A Genova siamo incastrati gli uni sugli altri.

A Genova non abbiamo spazio.

A Genova siamo schiacciati tra le colline e il mare.

Sì. Perché a noi Genovesi piace vivere così. Tutti vicini. Tutti abbracciati.

Genova ha una sola linea metropolitana, che chiude alle nove di sera.

A Genova i mezzi pubblici sono sempre in ritardo e sono sempre strapieni.

A Genova le strade sono strette, ci sono salite e discese, curve e gallerie, e noi siamo sempre in troppi a guidare e ci innervosiamo facilmente.

A Genova quando devi imprecare preferisci farlo in dialetto, perché rende meglio l’idea.

A Genova se hai la fortuna di essere sulla Sopraelevata durante l’ora del tramonto puoi vedere il cielo rosa e il mare viola.

A Genova abbiamo le tegole fatte di ardesia nera.

Così quando piove i tetti diventano lucidi, riflettono il cielo e le case sembrano fatte di specchi.

A Genova il Centro Storico è un labirinto di botteghe e carruggi, se non la conosci ti perdi.

Questo serviva nell’antichità a difenderci dai predoni che approdavano dal mare e dai briganti che irrompevano dalle colline.

Genova è stata una Repubblica Marinara.

Genova è stata uno snodo fondamentale per il commercio, per via della sua posizione strategica, tra la terra e il mare.

Genova è patria di esploratori, inventori, inquisitori, ladri, tagliagole, pirati, nobildonne, streghe, sante e prostitute.

Genova ha i gatti sui tetti e i topi per le strade del porto.

Genova è la focaccia, il pesto, i pansoti al sugo di noci e la torta Pasqualina.

Genova sono gli ulivi sulla riviera.

Genova sono i Parchi di Nervi e i suoi scoiattoli.

Genova è la pizza d’asporto mangiata sugli scogli di Boccadasse.

Genova è il gelato in Corso Italia con gli amici il sabato sera.

Genova è l’aperitivo in Piazza delle Erbe.

Genova è lo shopping con gli amici in via Venti Settembre.

Genova sono i bonghi in Piazza De Ferrari.

Genova è le sue scritte anarchiche sui portoni, i palazzi e le saracinesche dei vicoli.

Genova è le sue biblioteche e i suoi musei.

A Genova, quando siamo innamorate, la sera andiamo sulle alture di Righi, in macchine scomode dai vetri appannati.

Genova è la grigliata sui prati in Primavera.

Genova è la festa in spiaggia nelle serate d’Estate.

Genova sono le piogge e i fiumi esondati ogni anno in Autunno.

Genova è la città che si ferma incapace di gestire la neve d’Inverno.

Genova è le sue alluvioni e i suoi morti ogni anno.

A Genova non si trova lavoro. Per questo prima o poi di qua ce ne dobbiamo andare.

A Genova quando ci vivi non la sopporti e te ne lamenti.

Quando però vai a vivere in un'altra città ti manca e parli a tutti di Lei.

Perché Genova ha mille disagi e difetti, e io sono pronto a riconoscerli tutti.

Ma è la mia città, Casa mia, e l’avrò dentro per sempre.

[wgm-beautiful-world]

PIAZZA DE FERRARI - ITALY

[mihail-ivanov]

I love to photograph fireworks, always a great occasion to see something beautiful. Here we can see the fireworks event in Genova Piazza De Ferrari 2022 done for the Salone Nautico inauguration. Hopefully, you enjoy the photos as much as I did making them. Have a great weekend all!

[rhel-l]

English version

In the night between Friday and Saturday 8 comrades were violently arrested by the police in front of the Ex Latteria Occupata (Genoa, Italy).

We take to the streets alongside EMA, ANAIS, EDO, PAOLO, MICHELE, JACK, LEA AND DAVIDE.

Against the militarization of cities made both of truncheons and tasers and of more all-encompassing forms, cameras and artificial intelligence.

The same technologies that they design in the Universities, build in Leonardo, devouring resources and which we see used on all war fronts.

PIAZZA DE FERRARI 6.00 PM

AGAINST REPRESSION

[bagnabraghe]

Genova: Piazza De Ferrari