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VERONA |
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Composed Sun, May 11, 7:20 pm The second or third stop on the train from Venice to Verona was San Bonifacio, which I'd love to see up close someday. The perfect village on a hill, some distance from the rail station. When we got off the train in Verona we had a peculiar transaction for getting a bus pass. I asked for 2, he said 7.20, I gave him 10, he game me change. I was about to leave when Uli said the agent wanted me for something. He pushed out another 10 euros in coins, and I said, "You must be mistaken," and he took them back. Uli said we should have just taken the money and left. Either my Italo-glish scrambled his circuits or he was stoned.
So getting to the Verona otello (hostel) is simple enough. Just get on the 73 line and take it to the end. Oh, and then walk 12 minutes up steep, narrow streets with the cars coming within inches of you and your big fat bag as you sweat and struggle uphill. Finally you come upon the hostel, give your info, then look out at a most amazing park. Afterwards you take a narrow starcase, thinking it's the right way to the toilets, but instead you climb around and around until finally emerging out on a balcony for an incredible view of the park and the surrounding hilltops. Next, before the sun goes down, one should go up the hill some more, taking only lefts when forks appear. You'll find yourself at the castello (castle). Now, I didn't see any castle, just some walls. But what I did see was an incredible, spectacular sunset. Just amazing. The fiume (river), the the green temple/church on the opposite hilltop that I hope to go up to one day, and the gorgeous green-domed duomo (cathedral).
Composed Sun May 11, 8:11pm, Antico Ristorante Sasso di Dante, Florence Up at the castello, two Veronese caught sight of Uli's didgeridoo (in it's sack, even and called out, "Ah, didgeridoo!" But in their accent I'm surprised Uli knew what they were saying, 'cause I didn't . I took advantage of their openness and asked some questions about what to do that night, where to go for dinner, and when people gather at night to play music. They took a long time explaining that there was another place up near the castle, but we never went back. Once
again, the people talking to me were so helpful, trying so hard to remember
their English. Meanwhile, the sun was setting and I hadn't even seen
that amazing view I mentioned. So when I got to the wall I leapt up
on it, without noticing first that the drop was significant.
After
Uli played some didgeridoo,
we kept going, dropping down the Roman steps we were told to take, passing
a soccer field and a hardcore bicyclist who was weaving into traffic,
trying to make a left. He eventually turned around and swooped downhill,
his turn now a right.
Across the river in the city proper we skipped the first restaurant we saw, which had German on the menu, and went into Trattoria Trota (trout), where we had -- you'll never guess -- trout. It was quite good. We also each got 11 euro 3 course meals. I had some good beef in red sauce with polenta, Uli had a just okay pork chop. Uli dared to ask if the bread and breadsticks were included, and the cameriere, who didn't speak a lick of English, was astonished at the question, and rightfully so. I was incredibly embarrassed. We got good and buzzed on the house wine, then tried to find a beer bar, settling for a gelateria (ice cream shop), where I ordered pistachio and wound up with chocolate. Since gelaterias also tend to sell alcohol, I bought Uli and me some cheap whisky. Then we realized it was 11:32 and the hostel was already closed. So we double-timed it up the stairs to the castello. In other words, going twice as high as needed. This, I believe, was the beginning of a pinched nerve on my right foot that's really been killing me. We got to the locked gate at 11:44 and buzzed the desk. Obviously we weren't the only ones late that night or ever, as the older desk guy stood at the top step with hands on hips and shoulders drooped, then walked away from us in jest before unlocking the gate electronically. We rushed to wash up before the lights in the large dorm hall were shut off, promptly at 12:01.
The bizarre thing about this place were all the boys posing with Giulietta's statue with their hands on her breasts. Even a white haired man got into the act. Very strange. At a bus stop I tried asking which bus to take to the Arena and an old man practically yelled at us, saying in Italian, "Walk! Walk! It's not far!" And indeed it was not. Some day I'd like to see an opera or concert in there. We just missed seeing Bjork. That would have been very cool.
After walking around
a bit we found our first supermarket of the trip, called PAM. We bought
lunch, which we enjoyed for far too long up at the hostel garden, thus
missing the cheap train to Florence, and having to pay 34 euro for 1
train that was Intercity, then finding that the train in Bologna was
delayed so that we had to pay another 8 for one that was leaving right
away. While on the train to Bologna I was resting with my feet up on the seat across from me when an old guy chastised me in Italian. Instead of shrugging and feigning ignorance, I said I didn't understand and finally, after he gestured at my feet, I told him grazie (thank you) instead of mi scuzzi (excuse me). I still feel dumb for having thanked him for yelling at me. On the train to Florence, which was much faster, quieter, with air conditioning, smoked glass and tables, I had a delightful conversation with an Italian sculptor about architectural styles. It was difficult, but with my rough Italian, Spanish and hand gestures and his patience I got by.
email:
ryan[at]monkeyduck[dot]com
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VERONA General info:
Transport: To
get to the hostel, just get on the 73 line, get off at the last stop
(P. Isolo) and follow the signs up the hill.
In
general, you'll be walking around Verona. There really is no reason
to get a bus pass. But if you plan to be there a number of days, there's
a Verona
Card that might be worth it.
Accommodations:
Ostello della Gioventù (HI) 1, Villa
Francescatti The
youth hotel in Verona is located on magnificent grounds. The accommodations
are just one big room with office dividers and bunk beds. But the closets
are big enough to fit the largest back pack (namely mine) and even allow
for locks to be used, something that came few and far between on my
trip.
Breakfast
was pretty mediocre, the staff was helpful enough, and the curfew is
11:30 sharp.
Eating
Out: Trattoria
Trota
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