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Of course, right after I wrote the last entry about how the weather had turned for the better, the rains returned pretty regularly with intermittent periods of sun. But, no big deal -- it just made the sunshine that much more enjoyable. I did bring along a good light raincoat with a hood and I’ve gotten some positives out of the fact that I hadn’t packed it and lugged it all over Italy for nothing.
So, from Reggio Emilia on to Bologna for a couple of weeks. Funny thing: I first contacted a school recommended by an old friend from my Brooklyn College days. He had attended it some time ago and wrote that he had “loved every minute of it”. So, the first exchange with the school was successful and they wrote that indeed they could accommodate me for classes, set me up with a place to stay, etc. Then, in my follow-up communication, I included the fact that my friend - and I named him - had been the one to suggest their school to me. And, I never heard back from them again. I sent another message to the person who had responded to me, with no reply and then to the general email address and again no return message. So, I gave up and went on to my second choice and worked it out with them. But, I had to wonder if the mention of my friend’s name was the deal-breaker and, if so…hmmm…why? One thought was that, since he has an Italian name, and not an uncommon one, perhaps it’s the same as some notorious Mafioso or…well, who knows?
Anyway, for the school I wound up at, Luca, the owner, recommended that I stay at one of their student apartments, because I had mentioned that I’d like to be not far from the school and it was only about a five-minute walk away. It looked (of course) very nice on the website and the description about sharing with other students from all over the world was glowingly referred to as well. I decided to opt in and after being picked up at the train station by Luca, and attempting to settle therein, was impacted by the reality of living in a place previously and currently inhabited by twenty-somethings of varying esthetic inclinations (to put it euphemistically). At first, I wondered how I could manage to pass two weeks in such a place and quickly came to the realization that I couldn’t and that it was ridiculous to even consider it. So, I called Luca and told him to get me out of there. He seemed puzzled and said, “Can I ask why?” and I said because I’m not a kid anymore and he said, “Oh” -- pause - “Well, can you stay tonight and I’ll find something else tomorrow?” The next day, we moved me into an apartment about a twelve minute walk from the school, which I shared with a young Italian business guy from a nearby city who stayed a few nights a week when he was in town.
The school and the teachers were good and I enjoyed them and the students from Japan, Australia, Paraguay, Denmark, Brazil, Chile, etc. Scholastically, I think it was the best one to date. One of the teachers also lead a couple of guided walks through some historic areas of the city and on the last day, since a number of us were leaving, we had a party with sparkling wine and goodies and lots of us kissed each other on both cheeks in saying goodbye, which I always find so very warm and touching. It’s such a lovely custom.
About a week ago, daughter Arnica and granddaughter Sara joined me in Bologna where we shared an apartment for a couple of nights and did some sightseeing, mainly around the main plaza (Piazza Maggiore). At one point, a very sweet eight-six year-old Bolognese gentleman by the name of Sergio engaged us and after some conversation led us to a historic site upstairs in a palace overlooking the square where Napoleon had been crowned king (or emperor, I don’t recall which) of Italy. It was a fascinating building and museum and Sergio was particularly determined for us to note the wide stairs arising from the street way up to the second level, perhaps some thirty feet above, that were made such that horses could be ridden up. We ran into Sergio again a little later in the day and he had more to show us, but we needed to defer to Arnica’s jet-lag and travel fatigue and headed back to the apartment for some R&R and more family catching-up.
A couple of days later we got a rental car, buzzed over to the Bologna airport and picked up Arnica’s good friend, Selene, before heading north into the Dolomite National Park area for three days of touring in that beautiful southern point of the Alps. The vistas were spectacular and the folks we encountered were uniformly wonderfully kind and friendly. Both the architecture and the people were much more Germanic than stereotypically Italian, which made it noteworthy on that level too. And, there were so few tourists and others on many of the roads that we were often able to stop wherever we wanted, even right on the road, to take photos or check out vistas and the like.
The first night was spent at a B&B in Belluno after exploring a bit in that town and then over to Agordo the next day where we looked for a place to stay without success at first. But, we had stopped into a caffè at one point and struck up a conversation with the owner, Max (Massemilio?), who offered to help us find a place, tie into his wi-fi or whatever else we needed. After being unsuccessful on our own, we returned to his business and took him up on it and wound up at a B&B owned by the most delightful and pleasant family of thirtysomething daughter, mom and dad, the latter a sculptor, with whom we had some really delightful conversations. The daughter spoke English and the dad and I engaged in some really fun chats in Italian. He had a great, devilish sense of humor and we did a bunch of bantering and laughing.
We returned a few times to Max’s place, partly because he insisted on treating us to a drink, and eventually realized that part of his gallantry was a function of his having been completely smitten by Selene. With just the slightest degree of encouragement, we had the sense that he would have proposed to her on the spot and despite Arnica and my encouragement that Selene take him up on it so that we would have a lovely place to visit in the future, she declined his advances and we reluctantly, but magnanimously (I thought) accepted her decision. Max, in his own right, was a sweet guy, by the way - just apparently not perfectly suited to Selene.
The next day, on to a B&B near Feltre (the name of the town escapes me at the moment) and some driving high up into the mountains and some searching for possible trails and a bit of hiking. Again, the owner of the B&B, a fiftyish woman, engaged us in a long conversation in the morning, filled with much laughing and goodwill before we took off back to Bologna, all in Italian, since she spoke no English, with me interpreting back and forth.
During all these times, we kept remarking to each other about how we kept running into the nicest people all along the way and it has continued since on our return to Bologna.
So, back to Bolgona, making it to the auto rental just ten minutes before the car was due back even though we had planned to get there an hour and a half early (thankfully), followed by the arrival of another of Arnica’s and Selene’s buddies, Mandy, from Mt Shasta. So, now we are five and the adventures continue. As I write, the three women are out “on the town” checking out Bologna’s nightlife, while Sara and I settle in for the evening.
Postscript: They arrived back at the apartment in the wee hours of the morning with hilarious stories of their super-fun time with the locals.
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Kippi
non-member comment
You are the Master
Dear Don, Your blogs are always a delight to read. What a great adventure you are having! I have always respected your ‘walk’ through life, but now I have come to see you as a master in the art of living. You are an inspiration and my hero. I wish I had something fancy to say in Italian. Love to Arnica and Sara.