Italy, like Britain, has a marked north/south divide. And in Italy, as in Britain, you're better off staying up north. Fortunately, in Italy, unlike in Britain, you can travel all the way between south and north by rail - at high speed and in first class - at short notice without spending too much money. Those Frecciarossa trains are just blissful and I shall miss them painfully when I go home.
I spent a week here in Bologna. Modena was only a day trip, but I've included it in the title of the blog because we've all heard of it, even if it's only from the labels on bottles of balsamic vinegar. Both cities have really attractive central areas: prosperous without being snooty, and interestingly historic without being overrun by tourists.
The one drawback of coming back up north is that winter is starting to bite and I didn't pack any warm clothes before flying out in October. So I went to a second-hand shop and picked up a jumper for 12 euros. When they rang it through the till, the screen said FELPA DONNA, which means "women's sweatshirt", and I was too embarrassed to ask. The label is inconclusive. I don't think it looks particularly effeminate and I haven't caught anybody laughing at me yet. Let's see if this continues when I wear it back in the UK.
Part of the reason for me not querying my gender-fluid garment was that I still speak almost no Italian after nearly two months in the country. But I can understand quite a bit of what I read & hear, thanks to my Spanish. (It's funny how a lot of Italians say they speak no Spanish, and vice versa, given that so many words and even sentences are basically the same between the two languages. Examples here.) As a side note, I like how the Italian word for 'children' is bambini - it seems almost too cute to be true.
I get plenty of listening practice when I'm out and about because, and let's be frank here, Italians are loud. In my Naples apartment, the only time my neighbours stopped shouting at each other was when they were asleep. Of all the world's nationalities, I think Italians have benefited most from the invention of the mobile telephone, because it means they can keep on yelling even when they're alone. Booking the silenzio coach on the train was always a doomed hope, but then that's what noise-cancelling headphones are for.
Bologna obviously can't compare with Rome or Florence for historical interest, but of all the cities I've visited so far on this trip, I think it's definitely the most liveable. It also represents a bit of a culinary pilgrimage for me, because bolognese was the pizza topping that capped off my very earliest drunken teenage escapades. Destiny brought me here. And of course anywhere is better than Naples.
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| Bologna: looking south towards the Piazza Maggiore from the Parco della Montagnola |
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| Bologna: the twin Towers (12th century AD) |
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| Bologna: looking south at sunset from the Torre dell'Orologio |
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| Bologna: looking east at sunset from the Torre Dell'Orologio, over the Piazza Maggiore |
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| Bologna: porticoes leading downhill from the Santuario della Madonna di San Luca |
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| Modena Cathedral (on a very rainy day) |
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| Palazzo Ducale di Modena (on a very rainy day) |
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| Edd vs Food #144 With grim inevitability, my food update from Bologna is...bolognese. It's never, ever, ever served with spaghetti. And they don't call it 'bolognese' here, of course. They just call it ragù. From a little takeout place named, indeed, Ragu. |
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| Edd vs Food #145 'La Grande Belleza' pizza at L'Antica Pizzeria di Michele in Modena. Purple cabbage cream, cream of ricotta, crispy prosciutto, basil. |
