After having seen a bit of non-touristy Italy (Umbria) followed by an extremely touristy bit (Firenze-Tuscany) where I saw more Brits/Americans than Italians, I set up camp in Ravenna. When the train pulled into the station, I could feel the heat – temperatures were touching 30 degrees (that’s centigrade) – on my walk to the hotel, I shed many a bead of sweat cursing the Edinburgh weather for making me soft and simultaneously wondering if staying in Ravenna (the guide book could offer few suggestions on places/things to see) was a good decision.
I hid in the hotel for a couple of hours from the heat and the sun, and then decided to brave it - When I did finally step out, I felt utterly and completely out of place. There were no tourists (phew) just Italians doing their stuff (i.e. standing on the street and gossiping) but that wasn't the reason why I stood out. I was, by far, the most under-dressed and under-branded person around. I actually felt as if I was surrounded by mannequins of a Versace or Ferragamo display window. So much so, that I had to go back to my hotel room and change from my T-shirt and wear a slightly more acceptable shirt.
I will not go on and on about how depressing Italy can be (sometimes) when you are surrounded by so much style. So I'll bore you with other details - Ravenna is a veritable maze of narrow cobbled streets but what strikes the visitor is that almost every one seems to be cycling around. This city was at its peak during the byzantine rule in the 5th and 6th centuries, and the town is often known as the 'Mosaic capital of Italy'. Being someone who has a pre-disposition towards Renaissance Art (notice the use of capital letters), I wasn't expecting to be impressed but the mosaics (especially in San Vitale Church) left me open-mouthed. Executed in the 6th century, they are ridiculously colourful and alive even in that dimly lit church - I asked the lady minder there if these were actually from the 6th century. She, obviously, did not take to my question too kindly.
I thought I was the only one who found the streets of Ravenna to be a maze till one afternoon a fire broke out and 2 fire-engines ran past me in haste. And then a few seconds later I saw them (with the same haste) on the street to my right. And then (I’m not joking) I saw them drive past me again (with the aforementioned shrill sirens). Clearly they had lost their way. Now a fire is not a funny matter but I couldn’t help laughing as I was reminded of Jerry being chased by Tom and criss-crossing the streets. Whether these directionally-challenged fire-engines ever managed to reach the fire I don’t know.
Parma, home of the Parmigiano (parmesan cheese) and Prosciutto Crudo (cured ham), turned out to be even more affluent and stylish than Ravenna. The highlight of this town is the dome of the Duomo (painted by Corregio) which is truly one of those awe-inspiring works.
Parma prides in itself as being the city of music - this was clearly borne by the number of music concerts that the city seemed to hold. I finally got the timing of my planning right and attended a Lucio Dalla concert. Dalla is big in Italy and everyone (yes, everyone) knows his music. I know some of his songs so I was probably the only one of that 3k strong crowd who did not sing along to each of the songs. But it was fun nonetheless...
From Ravenna/Parma, I made a couple of unplanned detours to Rimini and Mantova. Rimini is Europe's largest Beach Resort with over 9 miles of uninterrupted beach front (think large orange/pink coloured umbrellas with deck chairs with marginally overweight and more-than-marginally underdressed tourists). Rimini's other claim to fame is Fellini who hailed from here and Rimini’s beaches featured in many of his movies ('I vitelloni' and 'Amarcord'). Rimini's debauched king Sigismundo Malatesta (remember Ezra Pound's Cantos) commissioned the building of the Tempio Malatestiano which is what the people who don't visit Rimini for the beach visit it for.
Mantova turned out to be yet another pretty town with lots of cobbled streets, lovely squares, immaculately dressed people, and few tourists (phew part II). This town, birthplace of Virgil, was ruled by the Gonzagas who spared no expenses in spending their (obviously excess) money. They built the Palazzo Ducale complete with its 500 rooms! The Camera degli Sposi (‘Bridal Chamber’, though it was used for official ‘purposes’) had a very cute di sotto in sù ceiling that appeared as if a group of cherubs were looking down from a dome.
One of the interesting things about Italy is that even the most upmarket of restaurants will allow people to come in and sell their wares (roses, trinkets...) to the customers. Neither the patrons nor the owners of the establishment find it an inconvenience – after all every one has to make a living. In Mantova I saw a lady actually pull up a chair and sit with those to whom she was trying to sell her little lace table mats. I found it all very amusing till she decided I was fair game and came and sat with me. It took me about 5 minutes to shake her off - much to the amusement of all the others in the trattoria.
Well sadly, the holiday ended a few days back though I'm still dreaming of the food.
Why we're jealous of the Italians (apart from their great cities, pouty women, amazing architecture, lovely art, perfect weather, lip-smacking cuisine)?
- The Italian language, apart from being extremely rhythmic to listen to (especially if mouthed by a bella ragazza), has some very interesting adjustments it makes. The dimunitivo is one of them. Every word can have a dimunitivo - to make it a mini-version (in meaning) of the original word. So a ragazza can become a ragazzina (an even cuter verion), a pizza can have a pizzetta, a piazza can have a piazzetta......
- Only the Italians can carry off what seems to be the fashion rage there – bright orange or red denims! (and that's what the men wear). They make the rest of the world look so drab.
(July, 2009)
