VISITING VERONA

Last Saturday, we took a trip to Verona. It was a chilly morning as we left, and the enclosed part of the vaporetto was entirely filled so I was left to stand on the deck. I had not ridden the #42 before, so the view of massive cruiseships docking, the vast parking lots, and actual automobile traffic in Santa Croce was new. The city, so often hidden behind a mask of historicity, shows its connections to the modern world in the neighborhood surrounding the umbilical cords of the bridges.

The train station at Ferrovia is an excellent location for arrival in Venice, as its front doors open onto a wide courtyard terminating at the Grand Canal. What better way could there be to signify to the weary traveler that he has arrived in VENICE? Given the incredibly inviting nature of the station's view, it was almost sad that we were leaving the city. We needed to purchase tickets, and the experience was new to us. After a little confusion, we were able to get tickets for the 10:10 departure, leaving us about an hour and a half of down time. The one way ticket cost 6.15 euros, cheaper than our later lunch. Some of us went to a nearby cafe and ordered coffee, as Paolo our Italian teacher instructed we do. After a little caffe` and a lot of chatting, the train opened its doors to us and we boarded.

Our train had a second story to it, and that is where we gravitated to. The seats were blue and somewhat cramped. There were no armrests between seats, and etched graffiti covered the windows. The train started and began to move, slowly. Unlike an airplane, there is no sense of speed to a train, at least to a super cheap train to Verona. It meandered along, taking us first through flat canal- crossed industrial parks, then through urban sprawl. Unsurprisingly, it stopped at every station along the way. The urbanization convulsively gave way to fields and vineyards studded with houses. I was pleased to see many houses and apartments had vegetable gardens, almost always containing cabbage. Gradually, we noticed an increase in the number of vineyards, and we began to see hills, some of them covered with palaces and castles. Padua, Vicenzia, and forgotten towns passed us by. Soon we entered the industrial outskirts of Verona and passed over the Adige River, carefully contained by stone walls along its entire course through the city (as far as I could tell). With a shriek, our train stopped at the Verona Station.

After purchasing return tickets in the station (it is very annoying to be in an exciting, new place and have to take care of mundane details), we emerged into the cloudy atmosphere of Verona. Cars and space. Those were the instant observations of Verona as compared to Venice. Though much of the old city would seem somewhat cramped and jumbled by American standards, by Venetian standards everywhere was like a campo.

The space between the train station and the old city was very open and had wide boulevards for cars. We crossed several streets, passed a hillside carved up with ancient bastion walls, and quickly entered the "old city". Passing underneath a huge brick arch next to the neoclassical town hall, we arrived in the Piazza Bra. The center contained a park, and the far end was filled by the bulk of the Arena. We ate Lunch at the Hippopotamus Pizzeria, a touristy place in the piazza. I could see the ancient Roman Arena from where I sat outside. It was a very pleasant meal; I shared pizza with Natalie, Sara, Shannon, and Kalen and had some cheap white wine. The pizza was extremely greasy. Audrey was also at our table and the others ate inside. We finished and were ready to explore at 2:30.

We went first to the Arena. Along the way, a man in an 18th century outfit with a cane, tricorn hat, and white painted face approached us and took a picture with Shannon and Sara. The Arena was not free, and we decided to return later. We walked around the place and dove into Verona's streets.

Verona is a beautiful city. The buildings have elegant Gothic and Renaissance architecture, but unlike Venice, the facades line up and the streets are straight or gradually curved. Also, oftentimes sidewalks were very small or nonexistant, leading to some close calls with motorized death. There were also many parks, campos, and statues. Like Venice, there are plenty of tourist shops and stands and plenty of places aimed at tourists.

We next stumbled upon a church, the Chiesa di San Fermo. It was here that we got our 10 euro Verona card, an excellent deal that let us into many places. The Gothic facade of the church was built from alternating layers of brick and stone and contained four south facing lancet windows, which allowed a massive volume of light into the church. Inside, there were few side windows but many frescos and several elaborate altars throughout. The frescos were mainly in the Renaissance style and were absolutely beautiful. The ceiling was wooden and plain, possibly ship's keel style. There was a stairwell leading down underneath the church; upon following it, we were surprised (sorpresa!) to find an entire other church directly under the nave of the first church. Apparently, this one had been built underground all the way back when Christianity was forbidden and then rebuilt, again underground. I saw some of the original ruins under a grating in the floor. This underchurch was in the Romanesque style. I thought that this dual-church was a wonderful idea; the top church was very elaborate and formal, signifying the greatness of God while the lower chuch was more intimate, emphasizing the personal nature of a relationship with God.

We next set out to see "Juliette's House". This is place both fascinating and intellectually repugnant. There never was a Juliet, nor was there a Capulet House in Verona. Some brilliant and cynical entrepreneur got the idea to take a picturesque balcony and commercialize it to rake in the dough from gullible and love-struck tourists. It is a pseudo high-class (due to its imaginary connections to Shakespeare) Disneyland that simulacratizes Actual Historicity even though any connection to reality is delusional. It is free to see the balcony and courtyard from below, but to go on the balcany costs 6 euro. That's more than the cost to see an actual 1900 year old Roman Arena OR a medieval chuch. And yet, despite all this, it has become one of, if not the, tourist destination in Verona.

That ranting disclaimer now out of the way, I will narrate my enjoyable time there. On the way to Juliette's House, we came across the ancient Roman Gate to Verona. A road had been built on top of it, but in places it had been peeled away to reveal the ancient city underneath. A few other pedestrian roads in the city also had views of the underlying ruins. The historical continuity of the city is amazing. Arriving at the "site", we passed through a sorteportego that had its walls entirely covered with love notes and love poems written on various colors and sizes of paper. The courtyard was packed. There was a statue of Juliet with one boob very shiny; apparently, it is good luck to rub her left boob. When in Verona... anyhow, now I have good luck and I can testify that the Luck of the Boob has helped me catch many a vaporetto. Since we had our Verona passes, it was no sacrifice to go onto the balcony, which I did for the hell of it, and then wrote a love note and stuck it to the wall on the way out.

We next arrived at Piazza Delle Erbe, where we found the Venetian Lion atop a Corinthian column, signifying Venetian dominance of Verona in the past, and a very intriguing statue of a shady guy in a trench coat with a pigeon (reminds me of Fagan from Oliver Twist). Next to the Piazza was the Palazzo del Governo, a striped fortress-like building with an enormous camponile, the Torre dei Lamberti. We climbed the 368 steps to the top of the tower, rising slowly past haphazard, tiny windows to the outside until we emerged at the first platform.

The view from the camponile, tallest in Verona, was indescribable. It is something I will remember until my dying day, and the poor photographs and words I have cannot do it justice whatsoever. It was certainly my favorite part of visiting Verona. The wind raced past us, pleasantly cool, as we gazed out at the building-covered hills and the weaving Adige River. We could see the Arena, the train station, everywhere we knew. We climbed another staircase to arrive at an even higher vantage point. That one was actually fenced in and the wind was strong, we retreated back to the first landing. There were multiple bells there. We were afraid that they would strike; if they did so, we would certainly go deaf.

From the top, we spied the famous statue of Dante and the Basilica de Sant'Anastasia, our next destination. Descending from the tower, we entered the Piazza dei Signori. This piazza is one of my favorite squares I have seen; the entrances all have arches over them and a massive statue of Dante overlooks passerby from the center. There is a pleasant portico, several amusing statues, and two Venetian lion relief sculptures. We continued on to the Basilica. It was a beautiful place, although the chancel and alter were closed for restoration. The ceiling was painted elaborately and the basins for holy water were particularly notworthy, as they were supported on the backs of ragamuffins. I was not sure what to make of this; did it imply that even the impoverished were welcome in the kingdom of heaven, or did it imply submission and subjugation of the lower classes? I will never know.

Having additional time, we visited the Duomo of Verona, another church. It too was beautiful, but not like the first two. It was here my camera battery died. We walked back to Piazza Bra, this time entering the Arena. Much of the original facade had been destroyed, and the remaining bit was undergoing restoration. However, throughout the centuries the Veronese had kept the main structure in good repair and today it is still fully functional and used as an open air theater and for opera. There is stadium seating installed inside, although the upper portions remain stone. Sitting on the ancient stone, it is extremely surreal to see modern plastic seating covering the old lower seats and part of the arena floor that had once seen men slay lions and murder each other. What would the Roman's think of their docile descendants sitting in their arena watching opera rather than a spray of gore? Would they judge them civilized or degenerate? Was this place still the site of atrocity, or had over a millenia of peaceful use redeemed the space? What would Ruskin say, he who so strongly believed in the voices of buildings? Could a pagan stadium be Christianized and, if not, is that one ancient voice that should be extinguished?

While pondering such thoughts at the top of the Arena, a marching band began to play and parade in the piazza below. We watched it for awhile, then descended to meet the rest of the group. We all got gelato and headed back to the train station. Our train was delayed almost an hour, but at the end of the day we boarded and rode the long ride back to Venezia.