Locals would never refer to this warm embrace of an Italian seaside town by its official name, Santa Margherita Ligure. That sounds fancy; and for all its elegant belle époque hôtellerie and baroque churches, Santa is far from fancy.
That sobriquet can be applied, for sure, to Portofino, five kilometres to the south, where for at least a century aristocrats, celebrities and captains of industry such as Gianni Agnelli have come to cosplay at living in a typical fishing village. The kind of typical fishing village that has Brunello Cucinelli and Louis Vuitton boutiques and the highest per capita income in Italy. The kind where the owner of one of the restaurants down by the harbour likes to stay informed about his clients’ extra-marital affairs so he can warn Commendatore X, when he rings to book a table for dinner with his wife, that Signora Y and her husband will be among that evening’s guests.
Santa is none of this. Santa is rows of wooden beach cabins decorated in jaunty stripes like painted fettuccine. To every bagno – beach club – its own colour code: dark orange for Bagni Sirena, which cosies right up against the stone blocks of the harbour breakwater. Sailor-blue for Bagni Vicini; femme-fatale scarlet for Central Bagni next door, beneath the frondy palm trees on the seaside prom. Over the road is the inevitable monument to Giuseppe Garibaldi in heroic pose, sword drawn, atop of a heap of rocks. Santa has no real official connection with Giuseppe but he’s a good excuse for a piazza that allows locals and summer returnees to indulge in seasonal activities: flirting, gossiping, the reading of pink sports newspapers and the consumption of gelato.
