Verona: The City of Love

CONTINUED... We sat in the still train stuck somewhere between Brescia and Verona deciding in which direction we would run in case we were attacked by some movie-induced character. When it finally started moving again we went back to our game of cards. To pass the long journeys on bus, train and plane, we played War which required little thought, no skill and wasted a bunch of time. However, I will say that we had our share of epic battles along the way.

By the time we reached Verona it was already dark, so we headed straight for the hotel to check in so we could eat before everything closed. From first appearance the hotel seemed quite nice. It had a big lobby, a friendly Italian at the front desk, even little candies to snack on. The bedroom too seemed fine, but we found a surprise in the bathroom. When you enter there is a sink and behind the sink was a curtain, behind the curtain was a toilet, above the toilet was the shower head. Yes, that means that our shower and toilet were connected.

At first I was a little upset. I mean I'm not shelling out this much money to squat and shower at the same time. But the more I thought about it, I realized what a cool opportunity it really was. I mean how many times in your lifetime have you been in the shower and thought, "I wish there was a toilet in here..." or vice versa.

We left the shower and the hotel to get some grub before all the restaurants closed down for the night. We weren't located in the nicest little neighborhood in Verona, but we were only about a three minute walk from the center of town and the places of interest. On our little walk we came across a couple people peering into an ammunition store. It was the first time I saw one in Europe and it was interesting to see cammo-clad men gawking in delight at gas masks and crossbows. For one brief moment I felt like I was back in Texas.

Once in town we found a nice little pizzeria to eat at. Everyone knows that pizza is suppose to be good in Italy, but my taste buds weren't ready for this experience. It was one of the most wonderfully delicious food I have ever eaten. There is no comparison. I've had pizza in Texas, California, NYC, Boston, and about anywhere in between, but the best pizza in the world comes from Italy. I had at least one pizza everyday for the rest of the trip. And the fact that it was usually the cheapest thing on the menu made it even easier to order.

After finishing our slices of heaven, we decided to order a glass of grappa. Now all we knew about grappa was that it was a common grape-based Italian drink that was usually served after dinner to help with the digestive process. I was thinking that it was more of a port than anything else, so when the waiter brought each of us a glass and told us he brought the strongest one he had, I didn't think much of it.

This golden-colored liquid goes down about as smooth as everclear. In fact, we learned that grappa is not a port at all but a strong distilled brandy. It ignites every part of you from the tip of the tongue, down the esophagus, and through every corner of your stomach, and then branches out to your fingers and toes until your entire body is warm. And that's with just one sip.

After finishing a respectable amount amongst the laughs of the waiter, we left to explore a bit of the city by night. It was absolutely enchanting: a giant plaza lit by a string of cafes, a coliseum with the soft roars from an opera inside, narrow streets splashed in soft lights and designer stores. It was elegant and charming, but even more so by day.

The next morning, after taking advantage of the shower-toilet, we started the morning off with buying some plums from a fresh fruit market. Then we visited the amphitheatre, which is actually the second-largest one after the coliseum in Rome, and is still used for opera shows by night in summer. From there we walked down a boutique-laden promenade and wound up in a large plaza hosting a daily market.

We had found Piazza delle Erbe, the most important square in Verona. It is filled with architectural treasures: the houses surrounding the plaza are covered in flowers and frescoes, there are also a couple of monuments and fountains laid out across it, and there's a giant bell tower that overlooks the entire square.

This is also the first time we noticed a special Veronese architecture. Many of the buildings were red and white striped with brick and stone stacked in layers on top of each other. Most important buildings can be found near the Piazza as well. The first we came across was the house of the Montagues, where Romeo would have lived. For all the hype Juliet gets, its a real shame there isn't more for Romeo... he dies too you know? Still, his shabby red brick house stands with barely a mention, just a plaque with a quote from the play.

However, Juliet has a bit more of a following. Some time ago some people started The Juliet Club, which receives letters from people to Juliet and stores them away. I think there's a movie based on it now called, "Letter's to Juliet" or something like that... Sara and I visited their workshop, which sits next to Juliet's house, to take a peek around.

The walls were covered with letters. We found books strewn around the tables filled with scribbles from recent entries. Many were in English (or an attempt at it), some in Italian, and the rest in every other language. Some were sweet and romantic, and some were tragic. All either asking for help or giving their thanks. We each wrote an entry in a book in hopes that one day we will return to read what the other wrote.

At the house of Juliet and the Capulets you can find Juliet's balcony and even walk up and take a picture from it. Also, there is a bronze statue of Juliet out front that is suppose to give you luck in love if you grope her right breast. Needless to say, I think I already have all the luck in the world, so I skipped out on the tradition.

One tradition we did not miss was writing a love letter in the tunnel approaching Juliet's house. As you walk up, the walls are covered in pieces of paper with small messages devoted to loved ones. The messages are stacked on top of each other with anything that can be found in a normal woman's purse, for example with band-aids and gum. We made one note with the back of a water bottle wrapping and another with a sticky note.

Another cute thing we saw around Verona were locks. Couples would buy locks and then write their names on it with a love note, then lock them to some unmovable structure. There were many around town on things like bridges and gates.

Verona is also were I ate my favorite pasta dish. We found a great restaurant located in an alley that served amazing food. I ordered a fettuccine with shrimp in an olive oil sauce and Sara got some sort of penne bolognese dish.

After refueling we headed to the top of the bell tower where we had views over the entire city. We later took a stroll along the river around the town. At this point it was getting late and quite warm (it was over 40ºC/104ºF at one spot in the shade), so we decided it was time to go grab our bags and head for the train station to get to Venice. Of course we had problems with our travel plans again.

First off, we decided to get the earliest (cheapest) of two trains to Venice, but it was leaving shortly and no taxis would pick us up. So I grabbed all the bags and we made a quick-paced walk toward the station. Once sufficiently covered with sweat, we got our tickets with 5 minutes to go before the train left. We ran to the platform listed but the sign said it was going to Milan in the other direction. Panic.

We had three minutes and no idea where the train was. We realized it was on another platform so we ran to that one (remember we're carrying a week's worth of clothes for two people...). We jumped on it with a minute to spare but a minute later they kick us off it to tell us we have to change to the train back on the platform we were just at.

Frustrated, worn out, and now wearing a drenched, see-through shirt, we get on the other train to find it disgustingly hot. There's little to no air conditioning and it's delayed another fifteen minutes or so. I'm thinking, let's get on the other train that leaves five minutes after that. It gets us into Venice 30 minutes sooner, plus I would have time to rest and get some water. The fact that we had a completely different ticket wasn't really important because no one had checked our tickets to this point anyways. Also, our tickets didn't even show a train time. The only difference between them was the price listed, ours were about half the other.

So we jumped off and headed to the restroom back in the station. This is where I hit my next new surprise in Italy, paying for public restrooms. Suddenly, I was blocked entry by glass doors as if I were heading through airport security or something, and there was a little change slot to put in coins like the games at Dave & Buster's.

When I entered there was a lady janitor but that didn't stop me from peeling off my sweat-soaked shirt and wringing it in the sink. I tried to dry off myself and my shirt  in one of those air blowers, but the janitor stopped me and started talking to me all snooty in Italian. Now I have no idea what exactly she said but I'm pretty sure it went something like, "Hey, this isn't your personal bathroom." Which I replied with (in Spanish because that's all I could think of and it's close to Italian), "I paid 80 cents for this bathroom, so I'm going to use it!" She said she didn't care how much it cost and then started shouting at me until I finally left.

That was about the only trouble I had with an Italian on my trip, and the rest of the way to Venice went smoothly. Although we sat on the floor of the train most of the way because all the seats were taken, we made it to Venice without anyone checking our tickets... TO BE CONTINUED