My husband and I went to Genova in August of 2004 to celebrate its year-long title as Capital of European Culture. I had been wanting to go for a couple of years, hearing about its crammed little city center, its bustling port, its elegant palaces and its stately squares. During the months before we went, all I could do was read about the city in magazines and newspapers that celebrated her, and I eagerly searched each new article for pictures and maps and lists of events--scraps that I could gather together over time, like solving a puzzle. When August came around, I was ready to go.

We only spent a couple of days in Genova, and that time was filled with fast paced city exploring. Armed with our camera, I snapped away at anything and everything that would conjure this place up for me upon returning home, for there was something contagiously appealing about this city, and I wanted to remember it.

Genova, I've learned, is not a city that everyone loves. It's got its dirty alleyways and unkept corners, its big-city feel: things that people don't always come to Italy in search of. But then there are the other parts: a long boulevard dedicated to palaces and galleries that you might not have even found if you hadn't turned the right corner, piazzas with large, spouting fountains, frescoes painted on random corners celebrating the patron saint of this neighborhood or that one. Genova is a place to be discovered, its food to be savoured, its evenings to be spent watching the sun set beyond the black and white striped duomo. When we asked if more people than usual had been visiting the city during this year as Capital of European Culture, shopkeepers and hotel owners admitted that they were blown away. No one visited Genova like this year, they said. Hotels were nearing full, exhibits were offered: the city was alive with people.

And I felt glad that we had chosen this moment to be in Genova--when the town was in good spirits and had a tangible reason to be proud of what Genova was about. I felt glad that, in the little time we had there, we had managed to store up reminders of the city--jars of pesto and sauces, souvenirs and gifts, and these photographs during just a couple of days in mid-August. We, like Genova herself, had crammed the best of the city into just a little space.

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Jackie Goyette's Images of Italy Series:

• Venice