My previous visit to Bologna, sandwiched as it was between Florence and Sicily, was a disappointment. So this time I wasn't expecting much. And as they say - if you go with low expectations, you will not be disappointed. Well, the usual culture shock (in a positive way naturallemente) hit me the moment I reached Bologna - a buzz on the streets, people shouting at each other, cars honking, cellphones ringing incessantly. But this time I liked Bologna - even though I was there just for a day and only used it for landing into Italy.
On the bus from the airport into town, there was a very loud young man talking into his cellphone. He seemed to be updating whoever it was at the other end of what all he had done since they had last spoken (not too long ago it seemed, given the details he went into!). After fifteen minutes of this conversation when he managed to bring all of us on the bus also upto speed with his love life he ended the call with a "Ciao, Nonna" (bye grandmom). Oh yes, family is so important in italy :)
Ferrara was the first of the towns I visited - a medieval town (that seems to be the theme of my holiday, as you'll see!) it is full of colour, flags, and white-bricked buildings. The day I went, they had a parade for the war veterans and the entire town seemed to be out in the streets (so much for the negative birth rate this country apparently has!) but the crowds disappeared around lunch time and the streets were deserted as every one went for their afternoon snooze - "tourists be damned, our sleep is important to us". I plonked myself in a garden cafe of one of the museums where the gentle sun and the melodious conversation from the table next to mine actually put me to sleep too!
After completing my outdoor siesta too, I headed back to the main square of town and the crowds of people were once again, like a lazy lumbering elephant, accumulating for the evening sessions of gossip. I sat next to a group of old ladies who seemed to be commenting on every one who was passing by "You know, her son has got a job in Bologna". And little islands of people were forming and at the middle of each such isle would be a child or a baby who would literally be the centre of attraction!
On the train back to Bologna, I was thinking about how cool, cheap and efficient the train system of Italy is! I should have knocked on wood - for the next day I was at the receiving end of this "efficiency". I was to take a train to Perugia and reached the station about 20 minutes before the departure time (to give myself enough time to buy the ticket) when I noticed a more-than-usual crowd at the station. The Departures board had "Cancelled" against most of the train names! So much for efficiency!.
Apparently, there was a derailment nearby and most trains had been cancelled. The matter, they assured in their most sweet voices over the announcement system, had been sorted and the train services were now slowly returning to normal. To cut an extremely long story short - I reached Perugia about 5 hours later than I had planned to reach after making 2 extra changes. But not once did anyone complain. Whenever an announcement would be made to the effect that the train was further delayed everyone would take a deep breath and then get back to their gossiping!
And after all this when I reached Perugia I immediately fell in love. For those of you, who havent been there, it is an extremely pretty medieval (again!) university town. ALL the buildings seem to have been built in the 16th century. But the overbearing presence of students gives it a certain buzz! And because it is located on a hill top, mornings and evenings are the most beautiful when sun rays can creep in through niches and project themselves on certain portions of certain walls only. That makes it extremely beautiful! And shifting by the minute.....
Transportation to the centre of town (on the hill-top) from the trainstation or bus station is through a series of extremely long escalators and something called the mini-metro which is an extremely cute, though modern looking, funicular service.
Perugia is in Umbria which is a lesser visited part of Italy. When I say "lesser visited" I am comparing it with its over-hyped cousin Tuscany which is always over-run with British and American tourists (though I must sheepishly confess that the second half of this holiday is going to be in Tuscany!). Umbria also has gently rolling hills with in-bloom sunflower fields and each town is literally a stones throw from the others but jokes apart, time does seem to have stopped in each of these little towns \ villages.
I am beginning to learn the subtleties of coffee here. Capuccino is only consumed prior to 10 or 11 in the morning. After that it is always Espresso. If you have Capuccino at any time other than before 11 youre giving away your touristness! Rest of the day, if you say "Cafe", you'll get Espresso! Obviously, you consume the coffee at the bar-table itself - if you sit at the tables (even if the place is empty), you pay extra!
While travelling, I usually hate the process of choosing a restaurant and poring over menus. But in Italy it is so very different - one feels like entering every Pizzeria or Trattoria and ordering everything on the menu (even though I usually prefer vegetarian). At the trattoria last night, I was confronted by a server who I would hate to have interview me. He had the sternest look and would not give any emotion away as I launched into what in front of him seemed like beginners Italian. He only changed expression slightly when I told him I was looking for something vegetarian. He smirked his eyebrows slightly as if to disapprove!
Assisi, which I visted today, is well-known thanks to its most famous son (St. Francis) and the town itself though visited by milllions of tourists \ pilgrims every years still manages to retain its charm. Potted geranium plants and monks with backpacks and cameras are visible aplenty here. The main church (built at the tomb site of St. Francis) is an elaborate 2 levelled church with some amazing Frescoes by Giotto.
But for me, the cuter church was in the centre of town (Tempio di Minerva). It had a stunningly painted ceiling. Being the tourist that I am, I whipped out my camera but noticed that there was a rather serious looking fellow who was looking at all the others quite suspiciously. I figured he was the usual minder in churches who prevent tourists from taking photos or making a general nuisance of themselves ("Man, look at this. Its amazing!"). I waited for someone else to take a photo to see how he would react. He didn't, so I went ahead and started clicking. It was then I noticed that this fellow turned to the "Per Dei Poveri" (for the poor) box and turned his back to everyone and I could hear the clink of coins - he was just a petty thief. Now, I wanted to photograph him and did my best "I am a tourist and I take a photo from every angle" to lull him into security of going ahead and doing his thing. After about 30 photos I did finally catch him in "action".
Assisi, being a small town, was covered by me by afternoon and at the train station, instead of boarding a train for Perugia (where I am currently staying), I decided to take a train in the opposite direction (those who know me well enough usually call me "contrarian") and reached a town called Spello. Nothing prepared me for what I saw. It was a ridiculously beautiful village with NO tourists whatsover. The village sky-line is dominated by, as usual, a church. I walked in. Now remember this is a town most people pass by in a not-so-well-frequented region of Italy. But the frescoes in the Church by an artist called Pintoricchio, would be the highlight of ANY museum in the world. A bit of subsequent research has shown that it is a rather well-known fresco cycle (oh! Philistine me!). Which is what makes Italy a delight to visit!
After some loitering around ("I should photograph this, I should photograph that too") I finally plonked myself in a local cafe where every one else knew everyone else. And everyone else knew the intimate going-ons of everyone else's life. Being an outsider, and that too of (shall we say, "interesting") colour, I was the cynosure of all eyes (not a pleasant prospect). After some "nudge nudge" one officious looking fellow came to my table and said "Posso?" (may I?) and sat on the chair next to me and started a conversation. Slowly everyone joined in and soon I was answering, much to my embarassment, questions which in most other countries even an uncle wouldn't ask his nephew (how much do you earn? was probably the politest of the questions!). The gentleman who had made the diffident first move was dressed in denim from head to toe, including a James Dean kind of cap tilted at just the right angle. For the half an hour I had a conversation (interrogation?) with them (they wanted to know all about India), the unlighted cigar in his mouth didnt budge a millimetre.
I was really enjoying this conversation and my happiness knew no bounds when the church bells started chiming. It is when the bells start ringing that I get the "I am in some vague corner of Europe" feeling. But this time other alarm bells started ringing too. My train to Perugia was to leave in 20 minutes.
Now the train station was at the base of the hill and a fair distance away. So I had to excuse myself from the conversation and had to run to the station (spilling the contents of my bag in the process. Not once but twice!). I reached with 10 minutes to spare (my non-existent middle running skills were put to the test. And passed). On reaching the station, I found out that there was no ticket counter. And the ticket vending machine (of which I am alway wary) was in the waiting room where 2 leather clad men were (in a rather physical way) expressing their love for each other. With diffidence, I entered the waiting room, and immediately smelt some substances in the air (you know the kind American presidents always insist on not having inhaled in their college days). Fortunately for me, the machine wasn't working and I left the 2 men to themselves.
Did I say fortunately? The train was due in 8 minutes and I had no ticket!. And the next one was on hour away. So I had to run back to town to a news-stand (Edicola). That was half a mile away so now my sprint-skills were tested.
After an age at the Edicola where the old lady in front of me bought a lottery ticket, discussed her life, and then fumbled (endlessly) for change in her purse, I reached the train station and found the train waiting at the other end of the station. I looked for the overhead passage (there was none - just the walkway at track level, between the platforms). But that was at quite a distance away. The TT who saw me, gestured to me to just run over the tracks (so much for safety).
In my joy/hurry to get onto the train, I forgot to validate the ticket (which one is always supposed to do before boarding a train in Italy. If you don't, you're courting a fine). The 30 minute train journy to Perugia was spent in nervousness in case the TT came and asked for an explanation for my un-validated ticket.
Fortunately for my wallet, and my Italian skills, the TT never showed up.
(June, 2009)
