Bologna
May 19th to 28th
After Padova and Venice we decided on it being time for a good meal. One of our guide books, Fred, highly recommended the entire region of Emilia-Romagna so we caught the train to Bologna. This, as well as having one of the oldest universities in the world, was recommended as having one of the best markets as well. We got there and went hotel hunting for a couple of nights, after which the plan was to look for an apartment for a week. Good plan. The first hotel goaded Hal into finding a place within our budget by simply saying "You'll never find a hotel in Bologna for less than €100; you will be back". Those first couple of days gave us the chance to sit back and enjoy the location of central Bologna, and it's 40 miles of covered walkways. Aperitivos abounded, with us finding we did get better service than the impatient Americans, simply by waiting and trying to speak some Italian. We later found another bar where we managed to, by looking helpless more than anything else, win ourselves some t-shirts in Italian scrabble. (My winning word was the impressive "stop".) We also managed to irritate/make jealous other Americans by letting them know we had a further five months of travel to go.
It is worth pointing out, even if I have done so before, my theory on travellers given the two references to Americans in a single paragraph above. I am the last person to think that Americans are universally stupid and insular, although they do have a slightly inward view simply from their own country being big enough to keep them entertained without interruption from the rest of the world. However, they do have a pretty poor image as travellers. There are many bright, intelligent and considerate Americans out there: you just tend to not notice them. There are equal proportions of appalling British and Australian travellers as well, with Australians possibly being guilty of trying to trade on being the lovable Auusie types too much. Any nationality can be guilty of having money and being ill informed. My theory is simply that you notice the Americans more often because there are 300 million of them in total, as opposed to 115 million Australians, Brits, Kiwis and Cannucks to pick the major English speaking peoples that you are likely to meet. We have met Australians we have run cringing from, Brits you wanted to ship straight back to their ponies, and one particular Kiwi that I could have caused grevious bodily harm to, simply to stop her talking about how she just dropped her peach and how she was now going to create her packing list -- out loud of course -- for a trip she was now two weeks into (she somehow failed to hear Hal's suggestion of 'ball-gag'). I am yet to meet a dodgy Cannuck, but then I really haven't managed to pick up the ability to separate North American accents. In any case half the Americans travelling are pretending to be Canadians anyway.
Where was I? Central Bologna is an impressive town. A number of Towers still exist -- built by rich families in the effort to show how rich they were by their ability to afford to build large towers -- which harken back to an incredible period of compensating for something. The centre of town also has an incredible unfinished Duomo, which the Pope ordered the locals to stop building in case it rivalled anything in Rome. Plus there is a wonderful fountain with Neptune at it's centre, and mermaids with water spurting from their nipples. In a sign of more recent times there is also a memorial to hundreds of people shot by the Nazis in World War II. Bologna was a hot bed of resistance. A sobering memorial in an architecturally stunning location.
We ate and drank for a couple of days and enjoyed it immensely. For example, on returning home one night we stopped off at a bar for a quick grappa before bed. We paid, were ushered out to seats outside, given some nibbles and our drinks. Two minutes later the owner got up, took my drink and disappeared back inside where, according to Hal because I had no view of what was going on, he added a shot of Cointreau to "take the edge off". Two nights in hotel and we went apartment hunting. We couldn't cope with this sort of imbibing and wanted to get back to cooking. Bologna was also supposed to have the best market in Italy.
We went to a rental agency and found a great apartment, up three flights of stairs, and not too far out of the centre of town. All was fine except the place had no power. A candlelit dinner -- fortunately there was gas although this did not extend to hot water -- and a few glasses of vino and it all seemed fine. We went to Modena the next day (see below), returning tired to find that they hadn't fixed the power supply and wanted to shift us to another apartment. Goodbye to sloping beamed ceiling and washing machine, hello hot and noisy student apartment four flights up with practically no hot water, enough dust bunnies to cater for a good hunt, and a bed which did not live up to promises and was in fact a sofa. Hal to the rescue! She got dressed up to the nines and went and informed our very short agency/landlord how unimpressed she was with the new arrangement as only the British can do. I did not attend, a point that seemed to further unnerve the increasingly anxious landlord. We ended up in another apartment with lift access, airconditioning, proper bed and cooking and washing facilities. Probably would rent out at a higher rate than we were paying but by this time we were beyind caring.
The rest of the time in Bologna amounted to eating and drinking, mainly cooking for ourselves, but definitely worth while given our sojourns through the rest of the region. We never really got to the University -- it seemed to have moved several times in it's history anyway -- so we had to suffice with only Padova under our belt. We didn't explore much of the town, and the market, though good, wasn't the best we encountered. Still, Bologna is a fun place to visit, if you avoid the zampone.
Modena
May 22nd and 25th
First on the visit list was Modena. We were looking forward to checking out the whole Modena Balsamic vinegar production and simply walking from the station there were many a shoppe that was selling fanciful bottles of what we thought was "the stuff". We wandered in the Centro Storico and immediately had lunch of fantastic pasta before waiting for the information office to open. There we booked a visit to one of the places that makes Modena vinegar. This wasn't for a few days so we had some time to kill. The rest of the day involved seeing the Duomo with funeral, the tower attached which leans nearly as much as the one in Pisa, and the government buildings including the infamous bucket (I really can't remember what is so important about the bucket, but it is in a glass box). We also managed to have a glass of the local drop at a place on the square, watching a puppy gamble after pigeons larger than he was. This was hard.
We returned in a panic a few days later. We had intended to catch a train to get us to Modena for our appointment. It didn't arrive. We waited on another train which didn't leave, missing a third train, and eventually getting to Modena half an hour after we needed to be somwhere else. The somewhere else was a vinegar producer based at someone's house, who were expecting us an hour later than we had been told to turn up, and so were surprised by our rush. A strangely well manicured lawn with half a dozen tortoises was not quite what we were expecting. The "factory" is an attic -- large at that -- full of barrels where they let the vinegar evaporate slowly and where they decant the product into smaller and smaller barrels. It turns out that Modena Balsamic vinegar is only made in households in small lots close to Modena, and only comes in a small particularly shaped bottle. Most Modena vinegars are not made there due to some appelation problem. White balsamic for example is made in Scandinavia and all the others use a chemical process rather than natural. Real Modena vinegar, however, is very, very good. Just ask Hal...
Rimini
May 24th
Rimini is a beach town famed in Ultimate Frisbee circles as the location of the biggest beach ultimate tournament in the world. This tournament was not on when we went. Instead you just got the usual European beach set up, with pay-for places on a beach covered in deck chairs and umbrellas. If you like that sort of thing, this is the place for you. There isn't much else here. We did get a swim in: the Adriatic is somewhat cloudy at this point. Sunburn you can get anywhere it would appear.
Parma
May 25th and 27th
We first visited Parma on the same day as the vinegar tour. Another train journey and we arrived around 2pm, in time for lunch. We went to a restaurant that had been recommended and both had the ravioli. Stunning. So good we went back a few days later and had it again, along with a platter of cold meats. A bottle of wine both times also helped with the exploration of the Duomo and surrounds and the gardens. The first time we went there were thunder storms. The second time we fell asleep on a park bench. I really don't know much about the town, but the food is definitely worth the trip. We, of course, bought cheese. And some proscuitto made from the back right leg of the pig. Apparently it is more tender because it's the leg they always sit on or something. Hell, I don't know. I was drunk.
Summary
Time for those ever-so-useful ratings. So here are my purely scientifically researched and mathematically stunned ratings of each town:
- Bologna: three towers.
- Modena: four bottles of vinegar (better than that sounds though).
- Rimini: one beach umbrella.
- Parma: four wheels of cheese.