A Little Taste of Bologna

Padua

Sydney and I planned to have a "Shakespeare week," touring Padua and Verona, both settings of Shakespearean plays. We planned on going to Verona first, spending the night, then heading to Padua. However, we found out the day before our scheduled departure that the train to Verona was sold out. No big deal, we just decided to see Padua first. We tentatively planned on catching the 9:30 train (yes, we rarely buy tickets ahead of time. Flying by the seat of our pants is so much more exciting). We found ourselves moving rather slowly the following morning (shocking, I know), and ended up taking the 11:30 train instead. We found our assigned seats next to a young, friendly couple from New York City. They were taking a 5 day whirlwind tour of Italy for their 10th anniversary. We talked for quite a while about travel and Italy and how to make the perfect al dente pasta. They mentioned a trip they had taken to Britian, so we asked what they recommended seeing in the London area, and whether they prefer Cambridge or Oxford. They said that Cambridge was prettier, but Oxford is interesting because you can visit the old haunts of the Inklings. "That's odd." I thought. Perhaps the Inklings are more popular than I thought. After throwing around the names of Tolkien, Lewis, and Sayers, Bosco proceeded to tell us about their visit to the place where Bunyan was imprisioned. Then they mentioned Spurgeon, and attending a service at the Metropolitan Tabernacle. Then Wesley and the piano on which Charles composed hymns. We were surprised to discover that all four of us were like-minded Christians. Later on in conversation, the topic of education was mentioned. Heather and Bosco mentioned that they had just been to an educational conference in the states. They were thinking about homeschooling their young daughters. Classically. Homeschooling. It was quite an amazing conversation. Very providential. None of us even planned on being on that train. What are the odds? I was reminded of how God orchestrates everything, even the little things. I was encouraged to cross paths with believers in such an unlikely place. He knew that we needed that small reminder of His love and guidance.



We wished our new friends well and alighted in Padua. We stopped by an internet cafe to let our bed and breakfast know what time we planned to arrive in Verona. While internet surfing, Sydney contemplated printing off a map of the city. "Nah," we reasoned. "How big could Padua be?" Famous last words.



We wandered around. All around. Not in the city center. It was lovely though. The only problem with the aimless wandering and getting lost was that we had a very important appointment. We had scheduled a time slot to see Giotto's frescoes at the Scrovegni Chapel. We asked a mother with her two little boys for directions to the Chapel. The boys were excited to know something that a grown person didn't know, so they started telling us all of the landmarks around the chapel, "La Capella degli Scrovegni è vicino la Gardini Garibaldi, e vicino questa e quella. . ." Their mother tried to tell them that we probably didn't know where those things were either, then pointed us in the right direction.


We arrived at the ticket desk just minutes late for our reserved time. I had read on the internet that if you are only 1 minute late, you lose your time slot and have to purchase another one (hoping that there is another open slot). Luckily, we didn't have to pay for another time slot and the lady just sent us on through. Perhaps it was because we spoke to her in Italian. We had to watch a video on the chapel for 15 minutes in a climate controlled room, then we were allowed to view the frescoes for 15 minutes.



Giotto is considered by many to be the very first Renaissance painter. Paintings during the Middle Ages for the most part looked the same. Static. Disproportional. And very gold. Florence is full of these suckers.

Giotto, however began to work out the complexities of human proportion. He also began implementing perspective and placed his figures in a 3 dimensional setting, naturalistic setting (as opposed to the gold leaf background above). All Renaissance painters built on the foundations laid by Giotto. His works may not look as impressive as those of the Renaissance masters, but they really are astounding because he was first. He looked at the world around him and looked at the paintings of his day and thought, "You know what? That's not what people really look like. And that's not what landscapes look like. And that's definitely not what babies look like." And he took major steps to remedy those things. Hence, the Scrovegni Chapel is huge in the story of art. It was amazing to see it face to face.

Note: These 2 pictures aren't mine. Cameras were sooo not allowed in there.


Our 15 minutes were up all too soon. We consoled ourselves with coffee. Here. Yes, this is a cafè. With ice sculptures and a grand piano. I'm thinking Starbucks needs to step up their act.

Forget me not

I actually called my family on the telephone this week. This is a first because we always communicate through skype and email.

Mom: Hello?

Me: Hey!

Mom: Heeey.

Me: This is Katie.

Mom: . . .Katie who?

I kid you not.

Cinque Terre

I had heard of the beauty of this place a few months ago. It piqued my curiosity, and I wasn't disappointed. Cinque Terre means 5 lands. It is a national park on the coast of Northern Italy made up of 5 stunningly beautiful villages, connected by a network of hiking trails. We decided to hike 4 of the 5 villages (according to internet accounts, 1 village was less impressive than the rest).

What could be better than a hike along the coastline of Italy?


We took a train to the village of Vernazza, also known as the "gem" of Cinque Terre. I think that it is the largest village of the 5, population wise, with 1,000 residents. We grabbed some pastries and coffee at a Sicilian pasticceria (read: pastry shop), wandered around the village, headed down to the harbor, and poked in some shops. Then, it was already time to start thinking about meal number 2 (this is Italy, after all). We picked up some focaccia bread with pesto to take on our hike, both invented in that region of Italy. Then we hit the trails. Frequent stops were necessary for taking pictures.

We hiked an hour or so, scaled a small wall, and ate our focaccia bread in an obliging olive grove overlooking the sea.


Feeling refeshed and empowered by our Italian repast, we continued along the trail to the village of Corniglia. Side note: Cinque Terre boasts an elaborate system of terracing, allegedly containing more stones than the Great Wall of China. The terraces were built for vineyards and olive groves.



In Corniglia, we felt the need to find a gelato shop. Clearly, hiking necessitates refreshment. I opted for a lemon granita (read: slushie) made fresh from local lemons.



Then we made our way to Manarola. This leg of the journey was a bit more rocky and rugged in appearance. We walked down to the stony spillway and watched the waves crash against the marbled rock.

Unfortunately, the boats were pulled up onto shore (in all the villages) because the sea was rough. The one other slight downside to the day was the lack of sunshine, which made for grayer pictures.



We took some time to traverse Manarola's terraces, and surprisingly made it out of this village without purchasing something to eat.

Next up was the path from Manarola to Riomaggiore, known as the Via dell'Amore (Way of Love). This was the easiest leg of the journey. Italians, or perhaps all Europeans, have this thing with locks. Lovers attach locks on a bridge (or something like a bridge) and throw the key into the water. It's supposed to symbolize undying love.


This practice is discouraged in most places as the locks are quite a burden to remove. However, locks are warmly welcomed on the Via dell'Amore.

And so, we made it to our last village, Riomaggiore.

We plopped down on a bench and pulled out our torn out Rick Steves pages to locate a restaurant for dinner. Having more time to kill than we had anticipated, we decided to have a look at the 5th village, Monterosso, that we had heard "wasn't worth seeing." Since Monterosso was in the exact opposite direction (requiring a backtracking all 4 villages and then some), we decided to take a train. For the record, Monterosso is worth seeing.




P.S. Facebookers: Sorry for the repeated pictures. My family assures me that there are people who read this blog who don't have facebook.