Ricochet: Verona, Italy ....February 2015

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Verona, Italy ....February 2015

Our home in Verona.
(You can enlarge any photo by clicking on it!)

I met up with Bridget in Verona Italy, where we had rented a small flat in a 17th century building on the Piazzetta Pescheria . Our apartment was cozy and eclectic, with nary a square corner, and furnished with the most interesting artwork and collectibles. Bridget had already been here for a week, so once I was settled she showed me around Verona. We walked through the streets to the Piazza Erbe, the old market square, with its renaissance frescoes and stone balconies overlooking a cobbled square, medieval fountains and booths selling everything from colorful fresh vegetables to silk scarfs to carnival masks.

The medieval tombs of the ruling Scagliari family.

The Piazza della Erbe

Pastel colored fresh radicchio....

The winged lion of St. Mark and classical facades in the Piazza Erbe..

The roman arena in Piazza Bra

The old city gates

A medieval arcade in the city

The medieval bridge at the Castel Vecchio

In the cathedral.

Along the Adige river

Lovers meet along the river

On the second day we visited the Casa di Guilietta, Verona's contribution to the fame generated by Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet". The bronze statue of Juliet brings good luck in love to those who touch her breast...and scores of people leave notes and messages imploring her help in matters of love. After more rambling and exploring, and tasting local pastries, espresso and confections, it was time for dinner . The specialty of the season here is gnocchi, dumplings made from potatoes and ricotta cheese, and served with cream sauce, smoked ricotta, tomato sauce, and several other sauce choices. A rib sticking meal, which goes well with wine to wash it down.

Colorful marzipans, marrons glaces and pastries.

Good luck to us!

Messages to Juliet, stuck on with chewing gum...

Our neighborhood osteria. The special was braised horsemeat with polenta.

We toured the cathedral (duomo), the art museum at the Castel Vecchio and climbed the tall Campanile Lamberti bell tower.

Campanile Lamberti

The clock struck one o'clock and the giant bells rang while we were standing under them at the top of the tower. We were so glad that we had not been an hour earlier for twelve o'clock noon!

"The bells...the bells...!" (The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1939)

View of Verona from the campanile.

We went to Venice for three nights and four days, then returned to Verona. We were invited to visit Parco Termale Villa dei Cedri, a villa and health spa located on an elegant 18th century estate and featuring thermal ponds in a lovely natural setting.

We enjoyed lounging in the hot tub, followed by a relaxing massage, then lunch with our friend and host Anna Lisa. After, we put on our bathing suits again and swam in the thermal pools, surrounded by ancient cedar trees and rolling green hills even in early February. Que bella!

The next day I explored the other side of the river, where the ruins of the Roman theater and several Roman era buildings sat perched on the hill overlooking the river valley. Lovely views, shrouded in late winter fog.

Later was the Carnivale parade in Verona, kicking off the carnivale season which precedes Lent. The parade went on all day, with bands, riders, floats, dancers and lots of confetti.

The King of Gnocchi, the king of the parade

It was also Valentine's Day weekend, a holiday which Verona has taken for it's own because of Romeo and Juliet. Vendors sold all kinds of chocolate confections and local wines...there was also music and confetti, and a kissing contest. Unfortunately, we American girls did not participate.

Heart shaped confetti shot out of a cannon!

On our last day, we were invited to lunch at the home of Elisa , our landlord's representative, and her mother Emma, an English teacher. They prepared wonderful home-cooked braised chicken with potatoes, salad, bread and pudding with fruit, and we laughed and chatted for the entire rainy, dreary afternoon of our last day in Verona.

For a quickly planned visit at what seemed to be a cold, dark time of year, we are so grateful to have experienced the colorful seasons of Carnivale, Valentine's Day in Verona, and the friendship of some remarkable women of Verona who offered us such warm hospitality, insights, and laughter.

Mille Grazie!

Our trip to Venice comes next.....

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Articles by Di Published in Blue Water Sailing Magazine

Song of the Open Road, by Walt Whitman

Afoot and light hearted, I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good fortune--I myself am good fortune;

Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,

Strong and content, I travel the open road...

...From this hour, freedom!

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd limits and imaginary lines,

Going where I list, my own master, total and absolute,

Listening to others and considering what they say,

Pausing, searching, contemplating,

Gently but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me....

...I inhale great draughts of space;

The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought;

I did not know I held so much goodness,

All seems beautiful to me;

I can repeat over to men and women, You have done such good to me,

I would do the same to you.

I will recruit for myself and you as I go;

I will scatter myself among men and women as I go;

I will toss the new gladness and roughness among them;

Whoever denies me, it shall not trouble me;

Whoever accepts me, he or she shall be blessed, and shall bless me.

Ithaka

ITHAKA

When you set out for Ithaka,
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.

Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centres,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.

Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.

Constantine P. Cavafy

Sea Fever

BY JOHN MASEFIELD

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking,

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

Cargoes

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

By John Masefield