The infatuation for Italy that I arrived here with has been substituted with a real, sincere love based on a foundation of its awesomeness: the tangible, ever-present appreciation for enjoying the best things in life – food, people, traveling, and culture. Bologna’s annual Notte Bianca, a.k.a. Art City White Night, is a great example of this.
Similar events in the US (on a smaller scale) include Ray at Night in San Diego and the monthly Pittsburgh gallery crawl, but due to the infrequency of Art City White Night and the given respect for its sister event, Arte Fiera, Notte Bianca is truly an opportunity to see the beautiful nooks and crannies of Bologna’s heritage that are rarely open to the public. Really, it is kind of tourist’s dream.
My first year in Bologna, Art City White Night was struck by bitter cold and it was all I could do to make it out of the house. Subsequent years I have made the fatal mistake of taking Art City White Night as an opportunity to eat and drink in good company. But I was overwhelmingly mistaken, because bars and restaurants are open every night, and during Art City White Night, they are an overcrowded nightmare.
So, third time’s a charm. This year, my final year, I happened to be on photo assignment for a local contemporary art magazine, Droste Effect Magazine, and I was determined to visit as many participating locations as possible. Alone, and lugging a lot of equipment, I was not anticipating a great evening. But, as what you expect always seems to end up completely opposite, the evening was absolutely marvelous. I was continually floored by what I discovered…a constant grab bag of delights and possibly my best night ever in Bologna. I am no expert on visual art. But I love these events because you don’t have to know anything about art. The city was bursting with people discovering their city and having fun. Not bad.
And, I tell ya, I will not soon forget the beauty I witnessed on Saturday. I stumbled into places I’ve been countless times, like the historic grocery market, that I will never see the same way after following the beautiful sound of an accordion only to discover a man passionately playing amongst the quiet stalls of vegetable merchants.
Or the main piazza, Piazza Maggiore, which I walked through on my way to another gallery, only to find myself surrounded by people flying kites at midnight. I was dumfounded for a moment…kites? Midnight? Winter? Only in Italy… 🙂 It will be forever burned into my memory.
But really, the opportunity to go behind closed doors was the most memorable, from a famously transformed historical church boasting a contemporary art installation on the altar, which was an amazing juxtaposition of contemporary and historical art,
to skipping an art exhibit in favor of just enjoying the staircase leading to the show, which was hidden within city’s administration buildings. This is the most dramatic staircase I have ever encountered, and unfortunately, my photo doesn’t do it justice.
Another highlight was being invited into the city’s more exclusive locations, like The Grand Hotel Majestic, where the likes of Elton John and Princess Diana have stayed while visiting Bologna,
and marveling at the frescos on the ceilings of the beautiful buildings in the city center.
I am trying to compare this evening to a similar evening in my life, but I really can’t think of anything that can compare. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, wandering through Bologna with no idea what marvel or magical character I would find next. And in the end, a powerful reminder of what a gift it has been to live in this beautiful place.
A few weeks ago I was on a commuter train headed to Venice on a cold, quiet Saturday evening in Italy. Despite the rain and my exhaustion from a long week of teaching English and a late night the night before in Bologna, I decided to follow through with my plan to catch the last day of the Venice Biennale exhibition that weekend. My English student appeared on the train from out of nowhere, jumping on seconds before the departure. He’s a captain with the Italian military police and was on his way home from work to his hometown of Ferrara, a short train ride from Bologna.
He sat down next to me. “Teacher! Where are you going?”
Caught in the middle of a daydream, I had to think a moment about my answer. “To Venice!”
He gives me a knowing look. “Alone? And looking so tired?”
These were legitimate questions. But I had a good answer. “I love to travel alone. I always make new friends.”
He thought a moment about my answer. “It could be.”
“But,” I continued, “tonight is going to be a quiet night at my hotel. I am exhausted.”
Famous. Last. Words.
I was finally in my room two and a half hours later, after a long and beautiful – albeit wet – stroll to Venice’s Dorsoduro district to my hotel near the Peggy Guggenheim museum. Too tired to put effort into my outfit, I stuck with my jeans (normally an absolute no-no for me on a Saturday night), grabbed my iPad, and set out immediately to begin the daunting task of finding a not-too-touristy restaurant for dinner.
Long ago a student friend of mine took me to a piazza in the Accademia area of Venice that was full of bars and restaurants. Pretty far from Piazza San Marco, I thought this was a good bet for finding a less touristy restaurant. Problem was, I had no idea how to get there. And direction is not so easy in Venice. Details! No biggie. I burst out of my hotel and walked in the general direction of the Accademia area.
After some helpful signs and some strategic following of the crowds around Venice’s infamous small and windy streets, I found the piazza. Campo Santa Margherita it was called. I was proud of myself for getting myself there. It was buzzing with people having drinks and aperitivo and preparing for the Saturday night festivities. Perfect. I had an excellent 4 euro glass of wine and examined the Google map of the area on my iPad. This is my shortcut for finding a decent restaurant on-the-go: I check out the restaurants that are actually on the Google map because they are usually good.
Google showed me three options around the Campo Santa Margherita area. En route to the first Google option, a restaurant called Osteria alla Bifora caught my eye. The windows were steamy, and it was packed. The atmosphere was great…not too elegant, not too straightforward. The menu was short and specialized. Good. But, no vegetarian option. I sighed and kept walking to the Google recommendation around the corner. A no-go: boring menu. The next restaurant was also a no-go: bad ambiance. I found myself walking in circles…what should I do? I was tired, and it was getting late.
I decided to trust my gut. I went back to the steamy restaurant with no vegetarian options. But as soon as I walked in, my heart sank. The seating was communal. There was no place for a single traveler.
But, I was hungry. I flagged down the hostess and explained my predicament in Italian. “I have two issues: I’m a vegetarian. And I’m alone.” She responded, “We’ll make a vegetarian plate for you. And…wait here.” She approached a full table near the door and said something to a man at the table, and then returned to me. “You can sit with them.” She pointed to the table she had just visited. I was mortified. “No, no, that’s ok. I just was hoping to take a chair at a table, I don’t need to join anyone.” Her expression didn’t change. “You can sit with them,” she repeated. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I looked back at the table. They were all looking at me. The guy she had spoken to stood up and offered me his chair. My feet carried me to the table but in my mind I was running away. I paused for a moment at the head of the table. I was trying to understand the situation. Four guys and two girls. Their girlfriends perhaps? Are these girls going to hate me for butting in on their date night? No time for thinking, they were waiting for me to sit down. So I sat down. I don’t even remember the introductions, except that they loved my name and started calling me Peggy Guggenheim. It was all a blur.
The women were on my left. They were Germans and also in town for the Biennale. They didn’t know the guys either, and they didn’t speak Italian.
The guy across from me asks in Italian, “Do you like white or red?”
“Oh, whatever you are having is fine with me.”
“White?”
“Sure. I’ll pay you back after.”
He gave me a little wave of disagreement and shouted to the waitress, “A bottle of prosecco!”
And that is when my vision of a quiet night officially came to a screeching halt.
The guys were very Northern Italian looking. Their light complexions and elegant dress were a welcome change from Bologna, a university town full of casually dressed students from across Italy. They told me they were from Venice. Wow. Awesome.
And what commenced can only be described as a feast. We enjoyed a cross-continental multi-lingual dinner over platters of one of everything on the menu and never-ending prosecco. And no one would touch my veggie plate, so I had it all to myself.
A platter at Osteria alla Bifora.
“You’re fun!” says the German girl next to me. “Come with us to the Biennale tomorrow!” “But tonight, you guys are going dancing with us!” said the guy across from me. “It depends where,” I responded. Venice is not known for its night life. The guy at the end of the table who had given me his chair chimed in. “It is a beautiful place. You will love it.” “Maybe,” I said. Then came the after dinner drinks. We played a bit of musical chairs, put the new Daft Punk album on my iPad, and the party was on. Even the restaurant owner’s dog came over to join us. The hostess was watching me from across the room. She seemed surprised things had worked out so well. Somehow, I wasn’t. My gut had known it.
After dinner drinks come with a cookie.
Finally, the moment arrived. To dance, or not to dance. Did I really have a choice?
I left this restaurant that I had entered alone just hours earlier, now accompanied by six new friends. We walked back across the piazza, through the windy Venetian streets, across the Grand Canal, and then I lost track. At the end of a small, dark street, a handsomely dressed man beckoned us into a beautiful, unmarked building. I found myself in a sea of wealthy Venetians in a gorgeous room I can only liken to a lounge at the Four Seasons Hotel. And there I was, just a normal girl from El Centro, California. In my jeans.
But I only worried about my state of being under dressed for a few seconds before other priorities took over: having fun. Music, dancing, new friends, mingling. But eventually the reality of life began to dawn on me and I realized my carriage was about to turn into a pumpkin. Problem was, my carriage didn’t know how to get home. Details. Again. I remembered hearing that the guy that had given me his seat at the restaurant, Adrian, lived near my hotel. And, as my luck that night would have it, he was incredibly crushable. Well, let’s just be honest. I already had a crush on him.
And then, as if he had read my mind, Adrian appeared out of nowhere. “Peggy!!”
“You’re walking me home, right?” I responded.
“Of course!”
My new friends and I left the club together, and then as quickly as they had come into my life, they disappeared. It was just Adrian and I crossing back over the Grand Canal. And I can now say, with certainty, that the romance of Venice is not just a myth. Whatever it is, whatever it was, we took the long way home.
And then, the knocking and shouting of the hotel maid asking if I needed a clean towel. The sun was up, everything was as I had left it. No sign at all of of my beautiful night in Venice.
I got up. I went to the Biennale. It was amazing. And as I was walking back to my hotel, I got a text. It was Adrian. So I guess it wasn’t a dream. But I haven’t seen any of my new friends again. I’ve had nights like these before…Dublin, Brooklyn, Denver, Rimini, Paris, Stockholm…but somehow Venice has been the most unforgettable.
The next day, a quiet Sunday in Venice.
The hardest thing about these incredible experiences and finding these wonderful people in their own environments is accepting that these experiences are unique, like a gift from the heavens. And trying to recreate them is like playing with fate.
But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t have a little hope.
I think the next one will be sooner than later. And if so, you’ll be the first to know…
What is it about the sound of the beach…the breeze, the drone of the ocean and the occasional squawk of a seagull that is powerful enough to make (almost) all of your worries melt away? And certainly powerful enough to motivate you to look slightly absurd holding a seashell to your ear once in a while, searching for that sound that can teleport you back to that beach where you can relax worry-less once again…at least for a few seconds.
Venice, Italy (photo by me)
I mean, certainly we don’t choose our vacations based on sound. But these sounds are rather powerful. Or a least more powerful than I had ever given them credit for.
Cinque Terre, Italy (photo by me)
It was an on an afternoon stroll on a quiet winter day in Venice’s Dorsoduro district on the last day of the Biennale, with not a soul in sight, that the unmistakable sound of small waves lapping against the sides of the canal and the repetitive thud of the boats shifting with the water that it finally hit me: I’m in Venice.
You would think this obvious fact would have hit me when I was walking through Piazza San Marco, watching the pigeons and the tourists (or more precisely, the pigeons playfully attacking the tourists), and perhaps some pretty notable architecture. Or at the very least when I was schlepping across the Grand Canal with motorboats whizzing by and gondolas drifting peacefully along.
Instead, it was on this nondescript canal, alone, that the reality of my environment hit me. And as I was walking along this canal in Venice, listening to these sounds of the boats and the waves, I thought of my second most unmistakable city sound. Waking up in Brooklyn, New York, to the echo of a car driving down narrow 4th St. and the familiar bump of the manhole lid as the tire rolled over it, voices shouting in the distance, and an inevitable car alarm sounding.
New York, NY (photo by me)
And then I thought of Bologna, Italy, and the sound of the rolling suitcases of the students bumping along the cobblestone streets on their way to and from their family homes in villages outside Bologna every weekend.
Bologna, Italy (photo by me)
And then Florence, and the overwhelming sound of American English speakers.
Florence, Italy (photo by me)
The indescribable and almost soundless sound of fresh snow falling in mass in the Italian Dolomites…
The echoing rolling wheels and clattering fall of a skateboard in San Diego…
San Diego, CA (photo by me)
And last but not least, in my hometown of El Centro, California, the peaceful receptive chirp of crickets follows you for months during the never-ending summers.
El Centro, CA (photo by me)
The more I think of these sounds, the more I am transported to these places. More than my usual memories of people or moments on vacations. The memories of these sounds have a way of attaching themselves to all the nuances of these places that you only really observe when you are alone. What are your favorite sounds? I’m curious…
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Bologna is not the most famous city in Italy. It has no world-famous monuments or museums. There are no destination resorts or breathtaking seaside.
But Bologna is our home. And we love it. For good reasons I might add. Actually, for reasons so significant they beg the question: What makes a city famous? And what should make a city famous? Is what we need for living so different from what we want when we travel?
We think no. Because if there is anything we can be sure of when we travel, no matter where we go, no unforgettable travel story every started with, “So we were standing in front of this monument.” Ha! Instead, how do these travel tales that you tell for the rest of your life begin? Perhaps, “We wandered into this amazing restaurant,” or “We made some new friends that showed us the town….”
These are the experiences that you are going to find in Bologna. So if you are concerned with seeing some of the world’s most famous monuments, definitely don’t come here. But if you want to eat some pretty awesome food and make some new international friends, all on the backdrop of a undeniably medieval city, then don’t miss it. Seriously. Because what more can we ask from life than great food, new friends, and some medieval eye candy?
And for those of you who still aren’t convinced, here are Lena and I’s top reasons why we can’t live without Bologna…
1. The food Bologna is internationally famous for its cuisine. And with good reason. The food here is, well, excellent. Spaghetti Bolognese (tagliatelle al ragu), tortellini al brodo, lasagna, and mortadella (aka Baloney). Rich and decadent, don’t come here if you are on a diet. And if you do try the mortadella, you better bring some home with you…unless you are worried about making Oscar Meyer jealous. For a classic Bologna mortadella experience, try Tamburini (via Caprarie, 1), which is in the heart of the center of Bologna, and popular with the Bolognese. Another favorite of ours for mortadella is Marsalino (via Marsala, 13), with a hipper feel in contrast to the classic Tamburini, and a super cute staff that always makes sure you are taken care of.
2. Fun to be found at all times (except in August) In our humble opinion, what makes a city great is when the streets are filled with people enjoying life. And this is truly a signature of life in Bologna. Taking an afternoon stroll, hanging out with friends and family and enjoying the scene, almost nothing is powerful enough to keep people off the street in Bologna. Pick up a bottle of wine at one of Bologna’s plentiful enotecas, and head to the nearest piazza to relax and people-watch like the locals do.
3. Beauty in every nook and cranny Bologna boasts the typical Italian beauty – narrow, winding streets painted in bright warm colors, shuttered windows, wrought iron terraces. But what sets Bologna apart from the rest of Italy are its portici, otherwise known as arcades. These portici are multifunctional – easy on the eyes, and a godsend when bad weather abounds. Thanks to the portici, I don’t even own a functional umbrella.
4. The people We at Gracefully Global believe that traveling is about getting into the heart of the places we visit, which really means getting to know the people who make these places unique. Bologna is no exception – actually, Bologna’s heartbeat is undeniably the people who are on the streets every day and every night, in every shape and form, from around Italy and around the world. If you want to avoid large hoards of tourists and immerse yourself in the European experience, Bologna is a great place to begin. Once you’ve finished your bottle of wine and enjoyed the ambiance of the piazzas, just follow the crowd to the nearest pub. You’ll make friends in no time.
5. The aperitivo This is the simplest of explanations. We love Bologna because it is one of the few places in the world that a drink can buy you access to an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet. Buy one drink, and a light dinner buffet is included, for free, at many of Bologna’s most popular bar destinations. What more could we ask for (as starving students and English teachers that is…)? 😉 One of our favorite aperitivo destinations is Lab 16 (Via Zamboni, 16), located very close to Bologna’s famous two towers. They have copious amounts of food (the pizza is great!) served between 7:30pm and 10:00pm, with just a small surcharge on top of your drink purchase (and they have great fruit drinks for those that don’t drink alcohol). The best part is during the summer they set up tables in the small piazza in front of Lab 16, which happens to be one of my favorite perches in all of Bologna.
When deciding from long lists of potential vacation destinations seems to have less reason than throwing a dart at a dart board, a good potential mantra could be, “If it is good enough for George Clooney, it is good enough for me.” Such is the case with famed celebrity destination, Lake Como (Lago di Como), which is in Lombardy, Italy, near the Swiss border. While George Clooney was forced into selling his villa here several years ago due to ongoing paparazzi onslaughts, this area has long been a destination for real and quasi royalty, with a guest list boasting the likes of Pliny the Younger, John F. Kennedy, Mark Twain, and Tom Cruise.
Even the sidewalks are beautiful in the Lake Como region, here at Bellagio.
So what is so great about Lake Como? Who knows. But there is something undeniably charming about a grand, lazy lake, winding around rolling green hills dotted with tiny villages painted in pastel, with the occasional eloquent villa tucked around the bend. And to make matters better, after a day on the lake, a relaxing dinner of homemade pasta with black truffles and Tuscan wine awaits.
It was a rainy day at Lake Como, but still beautiful.
Bellagio is one of the famed villages in the community, accessible by a dependable network of boats serving most of the villages in the area, and boasting a namesake casino in Las Vegas that is nearly the same size as this tiny little town.
A sunset this heavenly seems fit only for a date of equally epic proportions – Romeo, perhaps? Well, this is Verona, Italy, seen vividly in my sunset shot from my trip last weekend. And I guarantee you, Verona’s capacity for romance doesn’t disappoint. If you buy your plane tickets now, you might just be able to claim Romeo as your valentine. And if you are good at keeping secrets, his address is via Arche Scaligeri 2. Shhhhhhh!
Don’t worry, I’ll keep Juliet occupied. 😉 She’s pretty much just a bronze statue these days anyway, so I think we’ve got it in the bag.
Day 20 in a row of temperatures over 80 degrees and no air-conditioner finally got the best of me, so I did what any good Italian would do – I went to the sea. We truly intended to take it easy and spend a quiet afternoon on the beach and return to Bologna by 7pm. By now I should have learned that fun, no matter what, takes over as the highest priority in Italy. So, as you will see through my photo diary, our best laid plans completely went awry, and the day was by no means a simple afternoon in the sun.
A quick train ride from Bologna offers many potential destinations by the sea, but on this adventure, we chose one of the most popular destinations reachable by train. Rimini is medium-sized city on the north-east coast of Italy in the Emilia-Romagna region. It has a beautiful city center, as well as a robust coastline full of restaurants, shops, and most importantly, beach. Nearby Riccione is a famous destination for nightlife, and Ravenna, which I talked about in another post, is also nearby.
Despite plentiful options for fun and sightseeing around Rimini, on this day we intended only to engage in some relaxing on the beach.
After some laying out in the (really) hot sun and getting a bit of color, our hunger pains got the best of us and we headed toward the main drag to find some food. Of course we encountered a detour. Here, my friends are playing a little competitive game of bocce (otherwise known as bocci ball).
And then, some jumping. I had no idea my friend was so athletic. I don’t think he did either.
Lunch at the local Irish Pub, Rose & Crown, which is an institution in Rimini. Believe it or not, eating italian food every day does begin to get boring after a while.
As you can see, some of us ate more than others…
While we were waiting for my friend to finish his three-course meal, we noticed the managers of the pub were busy blowing up balloons. And lots of them. We wondered why. They explained that La Notte Rosa happened to be that night, which I have now learned is one of the biggest entertainment nights in the Emilia-Romagna region during the summer.
The managers gave me a balloon and also an idea. Why not go back to Bologna on a later train so we can enjoy La Notte Rosa? After all, it only comes along once per year.
While we were digesting this idea, we left the pub to go back to the beach for a bit more sun. On the way we witnessed the result of the manager’s balloon handiwork. Balloons flying high over Rimini.
We went back to the beach for some sun. Apparently we were not destined to get much sun. The cloud formations became foreboding and dramatic.
And boy did the storm come. We ran for cover at the nearest bar with more than a thatched roof for cover. I was drenched. The storm seemed more akin to a hurricane. But I must confess, I loved every moment of it, as being a girl from Southern California, I am not accustomed to dramatic weather. Somehow, it felt like summer, reminding me of running through the rain in New York during summers spend there in my childhood.
Lucky for my friends, I had my favorite travel accessory with me – my iPad – equipped with Fruit Ninja to help them pass the time while we waited for the storm to pass.
But I was much more interested in making friends. While they were busy with my iPad, I kept myself occupied by meeting everyone who was also taking refuge at the cafe where we hung out during the storm. Here I am – the drenched version – with my new friends.
When the storm finally cleared, the whole town immediately came alive for La Notte Rosa. Even the streetlights were partaking in the fun with their pink light.
We loved the street artist that was creating complex images with spray paint on the ground for us all to watch, using bits of newspaper to create texture on a cityscape of New York.
Finally, it was time to get down to business. Where’s the party? My friend wanted to find an old co-worker from Bologna, who was now living in Rimini selling trinkets on the street. He didn’t have his new phone number, so we began asking every street vendor that we met. Believe me, there are a lot of street vendors. I will spare you from all the photos.Of course, we finally found him. It was a happy reunion. And he gave us some tips for the rest of the night.
Most importantly, he equipped us with pink hats so we could join in the festivities of the La Notte Rosa crowd. But of course, our hats didn’t compare to these. I was jealous.
And then, the fireworks came. And a few hours later, the end of a night. We lost one of our friends after he disappeared and fell asleep on the beach, but we made it on the late (early?) train with several hundred other people. The train arrived in Bologna in time for us to see the sunrise.
I never knew a day at the sea could be so successful. Thanks Rimini…
Ravenna is a small, unassuming city in the northeast Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, and is a virtual treasure trove of visual delights. Famous for its mosaics and churches, a day in Ravenna is relaxing adventure back in time, with a fabulous Italian dinner waiting for you to top it off.
Portici in Ravenna, Italy
A simple train ride from Bologna, I spent a day here last fall. My roommate Seve comes from a small city near Ravenna, and I was always curious about the city. I was not disappointed. The city is beautiful, easy to navigate, affordable, and who can beat 6th century mosaics?
More mosaics in Ravenna
For more info, check out Wiki and Wikitravel.
Here are a few of my favorite pics… Gallery:
Cinque Terre rose to fame among American tourists with the help of a well-known friend, Rick Steves, and it seems to continue to grow ever-more popular, as its beauty and simplicity are hard to match
Cinque Terre rests on the western coast of Italy, and its name is derived from the five small coastal cities that compose the area – Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso. One of the signature tourist draws to the region is the hike from the southernmost Riomaggiore to the northernmost Monterosso, as each city is no more than three kilometers from the last. That being said, the more northern you are, the more difficult the walks become, with many steps and hills involved.
I have made the walk twice, and not only is the view one of the most stunning I have experienced since Big Sur, California, there is also quite a reward in Monterosso, as this city has the largest beach for relaxing a bit after your hike, and the focaccia here is not to be missed. Speaking of food, this area of Italy is known for creating pesto, so definitely leave some room for some homemade pesto dishes while you visit.
As if the beauty of this place (and the pesto!) isn’t enough of a reason to go, there’s more. Each time I go to Cinque Terre I have made friends from the city that I still keep in touch with. The people here are wonderful – they truly appreciate the tourists and make it their own personal mission that you are happy and enjoying your visit to their city. Seriously, what more could we ask for?
While each city has its own character – my personal favorites are Corniglia and Vernazza, as each of these cities have absolutely charming architecture and tiny yet fantastic little swimming areas.
To help you get a better idea of the true beauty of the area, I have picked out a few of my favorite photos.
Slideshow:
Despite the 15 months that I have already spent in Bologna, I have not yet acclimated to the striking allure of this historic Italian city. The photos in this gallery are snapshots that I have taken over the months at moments when the beauty of the city has truly struck me. Which is often. As you are about to see, Bologna is truly a land of extremes with its signature portici adorning nearly every street in the historic center, and many of the walls behind the portici laden with graffiti. A stroll through its wealthy neighborhoods can feel almost like a walk through a fairy tale, while a stroll down via Zamboni in the heart of the student community is a reminder of the sometimes radical political roots grown in Bologna.
Bologna may be my home away from home, but I dare say that these moments when I drop everything just to take a picture will never stop. I hope you enjoy them even a bit as much as I have…
