Palazzo San Giorgio (Palace of St. George), Genoa

Once upon a time in the 13th century, Byzantine Emperor Michael VIII Palaiologos felt seriously indebted to Genoa. The city backed him in his fight against the Latin Empire, and his gratitude came in a very specific form—recycled enemy property. In 1260, marble and building materials stripped from the Venetian embassy in Constantinople were shipped west and handed to Genoese noble Guglielmo Boccanegra, who promptly turned them into his waterfront dream palace. Indeed, nothing says “thank you” quite like the repurposed Venetian stone...

To underline the point, stone lions—symbols of Venice’s patron saint, Mark—were set into the façade. A bold move (possibly, too bold). Just two years later, Boccanegra was overthrown as Captain of the People and sent into exile, and his shiny palace took a sharp turn in function. It became a prison. History, as usual, has a sense of humor...

The most famous inmate was Marco Polo, who passed the time by dictating his travel stories to Rustichello of Pisa, a writer of chivalric romances. Somewhere behind these walls, tales of faraway Asia were shaped for European ears—a neat illustration that even a Genoese prison could produce a bestseller.

Still, the building had bigger ambitions than incarceration. Designed by Frate Oliverio, a Cistercian monk with architectural skills, it was also meant to serve the port authorities. By 1400, it entered a new phase as the headquarters of the Bank of San Giorgio, one of the earliest banking institutions in Italy and a financial powerhouse of its day. Commerce, it turns out, was always the long game.

Expansion followed. In 1570, an east wing appeared to house customs offices, archives, and vaults. In 1608, the façade received a full makeover with heroic frescoes, dominated by Saint George slaying the dragon. A clock tower was added above, keeping both time and watch over the harbor.

Look closely at the façade today, and you’ll spot statues of Genoese heavyweights: Christopher Columbus, Andrea Doria, Simone Boccanegra, and others who once steered the city’s fortunes. Now known as the Palace of St. George, the building still runs port business—having moved, over the centuries, from imperial favor to prison cells to financial nerve center, without ever leaving the waterfront.