Stay (Bolgna and Ravenna)

Hello again, dear reader. This post was meant to published last night, but after a very long day, we only had energy for red wine and cheese when we returned to the apartment. So today is a double episode. 

After our guided lecture of the hidden gems of Bologna, we opted for a quieter day. Also, we wished to avoid the San Petronio feast day crowds. In the morning, we visited the Mercato di Mezzo in the Quadrilatero District with the intention of having a coffee and buying some produce. Again, unlike Firenze there were no produce stalls in the market,  just pre-made food. The coffee was good though.

Rather than returning by the same street, we exited through the back door onto Via Pescherie Vecchie where there were fruit and vegetable shops, butchers, stores selling breads, cheeses and pastas. We sourced some lovely bread, tomatoes, cheese and of course, mortadella, Bologna's speciality, for tonight's dinner.

Then it was out into the Piazza Maggiore where the celebrations were in full swing. There were games and competitions happening all over the square. No one was admiring the Renaissance architecture. We dodged the crowds, all the way back to the apartment, to stow our groceries.

A frescoe in Santa Maria della Vita.

After a suitable period, we returned to the throng and made our way to the Sanctuary Santa Maria della Vita to view the "Lamentation over the Dead Christ" by Niccolò dell'Arca. It is a terracotta sculpture with the wailing Marys. We had walked into this church earlier in the week when we were exploring the Quadrilatero District, without realising its significance. (I keep wanting to make jokes about ignorant tourists but if you haven't read the previous post, you won't get the joke).

The dome in the church.

The dome above the altar.

The wailing Marys are extremely emotive and were a landmark sculpture of the time. Not just because of the medium, but because of the expressive faces. Niccolò created this amazing piece in 1463 when terracotta was not fashionable and such expressive faces did not exist in art. The flowing robes were particularly evocative. In fact, according to our lecturer, Bolognese parents used to threaten their poorly behaved children with a visit to the Marys to frighten them into compliance!

Upstairs there was a collection of artworks. Among them, a sculpture by Alfonso Lombardi, the Transit of the Virgin. Also in terracotta, but sculpted between 1519 and 1522. Again, it is an amazing piece and we had the spaces almost entirely to ourselves while outside, the tumult of festival activities continued.

The Transit of the Virgin

We crossed the Piazza Maggiore once more. The games had given way to a concert on the steps of the Basilica. The band members, some of whom were priests, were just warming up. I'm guessing they weren't a death metal band.

A quick swing back through the artisan markets to purchase a present and we were back in the safety of our apartment. The afternoon was spent researching our trip to Ravenna. Oh, alright, and drinking wine and eating cheese and those other lovely items we purchased in the morning. We are in Italy.

Hand woven scarves.

Ravenna

Ravenna is the home of Byzantine Mosaics. There are five main UNESCO heritage listed places to view the mosaics. Doing so, not as part of tour group, requires significant inside knowledge or dumb luck. We wasted much time trying to book tickets to see the five attractions. It was confusing, perhaps deliberately so, and in the end we conceded defeat and grudgingly purchased tickets to join a tour.

To purchase individual tickets, you were directed to the official web page. Once a date was selected, you needed to choose a time to start your tour of the five sites, which are sprinkled around various parts of the old town. Success at this stage was simple. The form then populated your next site to visit. No choice. You needed to request a specific time and tickets for every time slot were limited. Against each site was a time in brackets, eg (10 minutes). Later I discerned this meant the time period to walk from one site to the next, not how long you could spend admiring the mosaics. Then you would come to the Chapel of Sant'Andrea and Archiepiscopal Museum - no tickets available. Choose another date and recommence ad infinitum. Get the picture?

We caught the 9:05am train so that we could have a coffee and scope out Ravenna to visit places that were not included on our three hour walking tour. Three hours, just like Gilligan's Island. It was an omen. Trenitalia almost got it right and we arrived only 5 minutes late. I'm sure that's an the acceptable margin of error. 

A mosaic near the station.

After coffee and pastries in Piazza del Poppolo, we admired the columns allegedly reminiscent of Venice. Next stop was the church of Sant'Eufemia. 

Venice. LOL.

Beneath the church is the Domus dei Tappeti di Pietra, also known as the house with the stone carpets, a series of 14 floor mosaics, discovered in 1993.

The Dance of the Four Seasons.

Another section of floor.

The Crypt Rasponi and the Hanging Gardens were next on the list. Google maps said we had arrived but there were no hanging gardens to be found. We did see the tomb of Dante and a number of sarcophagi around the Piazza San Francesco. Inside the Basilica there was a crypt, underwater, with fish, but we're are unconvinced it was that of Rasponi.

The crypt.

Dante's tomb.

Basilica San Francesco.

There were several references to that well known English writer (adulterer, bisexual and committer of incest and all round good guy), Lord Byron. He spent some time in Bologna, sponging off a wealthy Italian lady and probably avoiding imprisonment in England.

From San Francesco, we returned to the main piazza for lunch and to burn some time before our 2:35pm  group met at the official tourist office of Ravenna. While enjoying lunch, our erstwhile tour guide of Bologna walked past. Jayne then postulated, could he be our guide today? Noooooooooo. Different companies, I assured her.

A sarcophagus near Dante.

Sant'Apollinare Nuovo

Our new guide struggled with her English and our group numbered 30 including the guide. Us and 27 Americans. While most gave up asking questions because it was too difficult to decipher the answer, the best of the lot was, "How do you know that?" Um, a lot of study, perhaps. Is it possible she was just making stuff up on the spot? Seriously.

In another notable moment in the tour, the guide was explaining the symbolism behind the mosaic portrayal of Jesus with a beard (the son of man) and Jesus clean shaven (the son of God) as the one true God. Out of nowhere, one of our tour group exclaimed "Amen!!" Remember the demographic of the group ... on a personal note I could have done without the Catholic propaganda.

The tour ticked off the five major sites: the Basilica Sant'Apollinare Nuovo, the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, the Basilica of San Vitale, Chapel of Sant'Andrea and Archiepiscopal Museum and finally the Neonian Bapistry.

The Mausoleum.

Each site is remarkable and awing in its own right. The mosaics are colourful, stunning and just amazing creations. My pictures can only capture the images on a small scale. To walk into a basilica and see the entire ceiling covered in small tiles, depicting scenes from the bible... well, you really need to experience it in person.

Basilica San Vitale.

The floor.

The three hours did not pass quickly and were exacerbated but a couple of group members who were sniffing and coughing their way through every step (not us). They should have worn masks, or stayed home or at least used a handkerchief. The other issue was the language barrier. Our guide admitted she did not get the opportunity to use her English often and it was obvious, and at times, caused us some mirth. Her pronunciation of 'tombs' as 'toms' caused much consternation, who are the Toms? some people questioned. 'Mosaics' was mispronounced as 'musics'. At one point she explained why we would not enter a particular church because it was Baroque and there were no 'musics'. What? Thought I. Baroque inspired a whole musical genre. Then I twigged, mosaics.

Sant'Andrea (no photos inside)

Neonian Baptistry.

The tour took longer than advertised and clearly, there were very few other people who had braved the individual booking procedure. Tour groups dominated the precinct and we reckon we could have visited each site in half the time. Generally we feel that tours give you greater insight and context but the delivery on this occasion was so laboured, you found yourself switching off from the commentary. We are not denigrating the guide's command of English per se - clearly our command of Italian is far inferior, but then, we are not fronting a tour for paying customers.

In any case, at the conclusion of the tour, we handed back our audio devices and headed for the train station to buy tickets for the return journey to Bologna, a duration of 1 hour and 12 minutes. We arrived on platform 2 to be informed that the train was running 5 minutes late - no drama. The platform became more crowded as the next announcement came through - now 10 minutes ritardo. More people arrived - 15 minutes ritardo... finally the train arrived and we settled in for the trip home. 

The sunset from Ravenna Station.

At each stop, we lost a little more time but we eventually came within 2 stations of Bologna and then, the train stopped. No announcement, no progress, no nothing. Then an announcement came that we were waiting for authorities to clear "unauthorised people" from the tracks - we would be on our way in 10 minutes. That scheduled time passed, then the same announcement was repeated and we were reminded that the train was not currently stopped at passenger disembarkation point - were people trying to jump off and walk home? Hmmm, perhaps we should Stay by Franki Valli and the Four Seasons.

Again we waited beyond the time advised and then, suddenly the train lurched forward and we made it to Bologna - well at least to the very eastern end of the platform. We alighted to find we had to walk at least 300 metres to exit the station and make our way home. Thank goodness we did not have luggage to contend with and we did not have prior plans or a dinner reservation. The journey that was to have been 1 hour 12 minutes stretched to 2 hours and 3 minutes.

Anyway, no one died (that we know of) and we made it home over 12 hours after we had departed in the morning.

Alla prossima.

Ironic (Bologna)

Transit days always seem to tire us out, dear reader, so we do enjoy the later start to the day that is common in Italy. We did have plans for the morning although some of them were postponed in the knowledge we had a walking tour scheduled for the afternoon.

Early morning although the light is as soft as evening.

Initially we had booked the tour for the morning, but our guide obviously got a better offer and requested a change of time until the afternoon. It would be a little warmer but that was of no consequence. Instead we went in search of a supermarket and set out to buy some provisions. It was only a 10 minute walk but we discovered an Aldi on the way home that was closer and cheaper. It matters what you put into a Google map search. A "supermarket" search does not show Aldi. I imagine that is because they have not paid for the privilege. Remember when you could rely on Google? Those days are over.

We dropped the groceries at home and wandered the nearby markets. As I said yesterday, the stalls directly below us are an artisan market, all hand made goods. Across the Via Independenza, it is all clothing. Some 'vintage', mostly not. Without casting aspersions on the stall owners and their goods, I doubt that the name brand gear was genuine. There was no need to walk down every aisle and it was crowded.

The search continued to buy Jayne a new pair of Mizuno runners. I found a couple of stores that stocked the brand but their stock was limited and the quest was unfulfilled. We returned to the apartment to have lunch before we set out to meet our guide.

At the appropriate time, we wandered down a now familiar street of Bologna, Via Independenza, to arrive at our rendez-vous point, outside a bookshop near the Piazza Maggiore. No one seemed to fit the bill for our guide. Google maps suggested a (non-existent bookshop, how good is AI?) around the corner so we wandered around towards the fountain, featuring Neptune and his extended hand, still to no avail. A WhatsApp exchange sent us back to the original point, outside the bookshop where our guide, in green shirt, met us and ushered us back towards Neptune. 

Nettuno. OK Neptune and a tower and stuff.

The company we chose for our tour allows you to select your own guide. I'd rather pot luck because you are making decisions based on little genuine knowledge. We selected our guide on the basis of his passion for history, art and architecture … and he delivered in spades, for 36 minutes non-stop, providing “context” for the rest of the tour. To begin, we can acknowledge that much of what he stated, very categorically, and forcefully, was accurate but we were not here for a lecture. It was like we were being berated for being there for the wrong reasons. Not that he asked why we were there or what our respective backgrounds were.

Michelangelo (allegedly) aged 19.

You would recall, dear reader, how our guide in Milano was like walking the city with an old friend. This was the opposite. And it was by no means free.

We were told, in no uncertain terms, that the people, both locals and tourists, were ignorant of all that matters in Bologna, in our guide's opinion, and that while people may come for the food and some sightseeing, what really mattered and should draw crowds was the, unsurpassed in Europe, landscape of medieval/renaissance architecture that surrounded us. It is reasonable to point out that sometimes the finesse of language can get lost in translation. If that is the case here, it is lost, never to be found.

They love a tower here, he says disrespectfully.

In the course of this lecture, we discovered that our unrivalled talent continues – our ability to be in major places when the most major event is taking place. Our guide informed us that the madding crowds, ignoring the most significant aspects of the city, were in fact gathering for the impending feast day of the city’s patron saint, Petronio, outside whose basilica, we were standing. Bugger.

A horse staircase. Why not. Dogs go everywhere.

Eventually and thankfully, the lecture paused and we actually moved off to begin the exploration of the old town area which included the Sala Borsa and the Basilica which dominates the Piazza Maggiore. Inside the Basilica we saw incredible examples of mediaeval and renaissance art and wood inlay art to which very few people were paying attention, along with a sun dial timeline that stretched almost the full extent of the basilica floor.

Zodiac on the floor.

The eye through which the sun hits the zodiac line.

We were schooled in the particular use of terracotta and sandstone – not marble, that characterises the adornments of the buildings, all of which are basically in the original state, even though they are exposed to the elements. Interestingly the lecture on what should be appreciated and admired in Bologna greatly increased in volume when there was an opportunity to educate the groundlings around us.

Clay statues. It's so obvious really.

Once we left the piazza precinct, we moved to the world’s first non-monastic university which features shields that represented students from all over Europe and the anatomy theatre where autopsies were first demonstrated for medical students to observe. 

Shields above a staircase.

Real shields, not just painted versions.

He was about to walk us past the medical theatre, "unless you are a doctor" he threw over his shoulder. "I'm a doctor," I replied. That made him pause. "Not medical" I added. "Education" Jayne chipped in. Our guide is a university lecturer, used to haranguing poor 'uneducated' students and he suddenly realised we were educated.  Funny and awkward. For him.

The dissection slab.

The professor's seat.

There was subtle shift in commentary after that. At times he now explained he was being humorous or ironic. I doubted both, but it does provide us with an excuse to use that wonderful song by Alanis Morisette, Ironic, because the irony here is, it isn't and neither was our guide.

We also went through the church precinct where St Dominic is buried under a marble sarcophagus that was incrementally decorated by many artists, including Michelangelo and Nicolo. Again, proving our guide correct, we were almost the only people present and able to walk within centimetres of Michelangelo’s contribution to the resting place of the founder of the Dominican order. We didn’t get that close to The David in Firenze. To be fair, The David is a bit more impressive than a small angel.

Nice angel Michelangelo.

Perspective shot. Spot the angel.

Our tour also took us to the seven churches of Saint Stefano, each built around and over the other, and to the oldest house (13th century) still in existence in Bologna. We also learnt about the origin of the famous Bolognese porticos, born out of people trying to rort their land entitlements by building houses where the upper floors sloped out from the lower floors. Eventually, the powers that be told them they had to fill in the gaps with the porticos underneath or demolish their overhangs.

No portico.

The oldest house in Bologna.

Honestly, we can’t remember all the information that was delivered, gatling gun style, but we came away with the unarguable view that Bologna should never be referred to as “the fat one”, the food capital of Italy but the pre-eminent European site of Romanesque/Medieval/Renaissance architecture and art. At least within the hearing of guide.

I miss Roberto. Had we known that Bologna also has Greeters we would have contacted them.

The exterior of Basilica San Domeninco from the courtyard.

Ultimately we saw sights and learned things that a 'regular' tourist may not ever see or have explained to them. Firming in my mind is that Italy is in competition with itself. From our time in Lucca and Pisa it would appear that the whole of Tuscany is at war with Tuscany, metaphorically. Our guide today believed that Bologna deserves a higher place in the cultural pecking order and has been relegated to the idea of the "fat one" a food only destination. At one point he conjectured that this is a conspiracy to spread the tourist traps to different parts of the country.

Wood carving in a cloister seat.

Beside the lecturn.

Italy is a food destination. We came here for the history, the culture and the people. The wonderful food culture is a bonus, but it too is culture. The slow food concept; food the way it has been for generations. That too is Italy. And in a fast paced, ever rushing society, that is as important as the past, because it has the possibility of impacting on the future.

Past and present intersect.

Once our tour was over, exhausted, we wandered home to take a breath, congratulate ourselves on having been re-educated, unlike the great unwashed masses we passed throughout the day, and to decide on a suitable venue for a totally deserved drink (or two) and dinner. Happily, we settled on an Osteria not 5 minutes’ walk from home.

I think we deserve an honorary doctorate in the architecture and Bologna. Now, is that Medieval, Mannerist, Renaissance or Baroque? It's not a discussion for now. Ask any Australian politician, they'll tell you. It's too soon.

Tomorrow is the feast of Saint Petronio, patron saint of Bologna, so we will consider how best to spend the day while not being trampled by the ignorant crowds.

Alla prossima.