The Leaning Towers of Bologna

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I think I’ve developed an obsession with Bologna’s porticos. So what better way to feed my obsession than with a walk through the world’s longest - the 3,796 metre long Portici di San Luca. I read that this was built between 1674 and 1721 to protect increasing numbers of pilgrims to the Sanctuary of the Madonna San Luca from the elements. According to tradition it has 666 arches, the Number of the Beast, as it’s supposedly in the shape of a snake; the snake then gets crushed under the Madonna’s heel at the Sanctuary, which is at the end of the Portico.

It’s more than a kilometre hike to even get to the start of the Portico, but it seems like a nice day for a quiet stroll. The first kilometre and a half or so is indeed a nice quiet walk in front of shops and apartments next to a road through suburbia. It then crosses the road at the impressive Arco del Meloncello, and seems now to be winding its way uphill. I’m not sure I read too much about this bit. It’s now all steps and steep ramps …. and fit looking athletes using it as a training track .… and cyclists who look like they might be preparing for the Giro d‘Italia - they’re struggling up the precipitously steep road that runs alongside it. I’m not sure I signed up for this bit, but I’m here now so I suppose I need to press on. The Sanctuary is apparently up at 280 metres above sea level, and whoever runs the website that describes it as being on top of a “hill” clearly hasn’t ever been here.

I struggle breathlessly past the Sanctuary’s striking facade and in through the doors. I’m not sure I expected to find a full blown church of quite this magnitude all the way up here. It’s massive; the frescoes on the dome are particularly impressive. I buy tickets to climb the belltower, after all what’s another 160 steps up the world’s narrowest spiral staircase after a morning’s mountaineering. I was expecting a stunning vista of the city, but it seems I should have read the fine print. It did say something about a 180 degree view, but was perhaps a bit silent on the minor detail of it being in the opposite direction. Still, the forested mountains look very peaceful and pleasant.

It seems that the Church was built to house and honour an icon of the Virgin and Child, otherwise known as “Di Luca”. The origins of the icon are apparently a bit hazy. Legend has it that priests from the Basilica of Santa Sofía in Constantinople gave it to a Greek hermit. They told him it was painted by Saint Luke himself, and that an inscription on it said that it had to be taken to the “Mountain of the Guard”, which it seems is where I am now. The ever-reliable Wikipedia refers to a lot of this under the heading “Marian Cult”, which doesn’t sound overly wholesome. That said the whole entry feels like it’s been through the Google translator a few times, so maybe something got a bit lost along the way. I follow a group of fellow mountaineers into a roped off area behind the altar for a viewing of the icon. It looks well protected; only the faces of Mary and Baby Jesus are visible through a thick silver plate.

Back on planet earth again, I struggle up onto the couch and drift off into dreamland. I’m now thinking I probably should have done a bit more homework on what turned out to be this morning’s mountain climbing exercise. But I didn’t, and now I need to front up again today, this time for a late afternoon climb I’ve booked up the Asinelli Tower, all 97.2 metres and 498 steps of it.

Bologna must have looked like New York City in the the Middle Ages; we’re told that there were somewhere between 80 and 100 towers here in the 12th and 13th centuries. They were apparently built for “defensive purposes”, although it’s apparently never been quite clear against who or what. I would have thought a couple might have enough to see an army coming, so maybe it was just that some of the neighbours didn’t get on too well with each other? Only around twenty remain, with most of the rest either having collapsed, or been demolished because it was feared they were about to collapse.

The Asinelli is one of the so-called Two Towers, the other being its near neighbour, the much shorter Garisenda Tower. Both were built around the same time between 1109 and 1119. As seems to be a bit characteristic of Italian towers, they both lean. The ridiculously spindly looking Asinelli’s thankfully only out of kilter by a bit more than a degree, but the Garisenda leans by a massive four degrees so that it overhangs by 3.2 metres. It was apparently 60 metres high at some stage, but it was lowered to its current 47.5 metres in the mid fourteenth century when someone got a bit worried that it might be about to fall down. And what did that move initiate? Well it seems it almost immediately started leaning, which presumably caused a few anxious moments while everyone stood around wondering if it was ever going to stop.

I start the tortuous climb. There’s only one very narrow, steep wooden staircase, so movements are tightly controlled to avoid people going up and down running into each other. It’s a bit hard not to notice the large number of steel struts propping the walls apart, or perhaps holding them together. There are gadgets in each of them which look like they can be used to screw them in or out to make them longer or shorter. I wonder who gets to decide whether the spindly walls that are holding this whole thing up need to be closer together or further apart today, and on what basis, but I’m halfway up now so I think it might be better for my mental health if I wondered about something else for a while. I struggle breathlessly up the final ladder. The views are of course stunning. We look down right on top of the Garisenda Tower. Its lean wasn’t all that noticeable from the ground, but from this angle it looks like it’s just got to fall over. I hope it at least waits until we get back down again. There’s a sign to the “Emergency Exit”, which just happens to be the only exit, the same one we came up here through. Hmmm. There are "no smoking" signs everywhere which would seem prudent. I’m not sure how we’d get out of here if the wooden stairs decided to go up in flames. And if all else fails there’s always the obligatory defibrillator, not that that would be all that useful if the stairs had already gone to God.

Safely back on planet earth again for the second time today, and we head out in search of the perfect Italian meal. And I think I might have found it in the veal topped with prosciutto and cheese … and chips, there always have to be chips, in this case Italian French fries. And of course there’s excellent artisanal beer topped off with the obligatory limoncello. But I’m being sensible ... well sensible enough to avoid handing over more money to white faced fist pump lady, something Issy reminds me I didn’t manage yesterday when I was stone cold sober.

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Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

Nice shot
Love the angles.

[RENanDREW]

For the love of porticos
I love porticos too. All the photos in this blog are great. Even though Bologna has so far evaded our attempts to visit, I think we need to rectify that soon. That veal dish sounds amazing... and speaking of limoncello, we stumbled upon a delicious concoction at Christmas lunch - limoncello and prosecco. A perfect Melbourne summer drink :)