Bologna is one hour and 45 minutes from Milan and if you're lucky you will maybe, magically, have a sense of the system by which Eurostar trains assign seats in second class. It is a fascinating work wherein numbers separated by vast quantities of other numbers are seated directly next to each other, while numbers in close proximity - such as 43 and 44 - are seated far enough away from each other so as to be unable to hold a conversation. Far be it for me to reinvent a long-standing seating system but next time I'd rather sit next to my husband and our friends rather than a generously-sized woman who was as equally interested in her mystery novel as my share of the armrest.
You may picture Bologna as a quaint town in which a thousand soft and wise grandmas stir pots of ragu and wrestle with fresh pasta, all the while guarding the secrets of Italy's finest food. You may also picture the city that houses the world's oldest university as a place haunted by academics with pithy conversations overflowing into the streets and a thousand things to learn before noon. Alas, it is neither. But you can find a pretty mean pair of knock-off sunglasses once night falls.
The food is wonderful. There is no denying that. We happened to find a wildly popular cafeteria at lunchtime in the back of an "antica salsamenteria" in the market area of Bologna. The self-service cafeteria, replete with trays and the rails on which to push them past myriad food choices, can be found in the back of Tamburini and goes by the name of VeloCibo -- fast food. The food is fast and it is also good. I was particularly impressed by the fennel, a vegetable which goes sadly unappreciated in the US but is embraced with passion in Bologna. Did I say passion? I mean cheese.
I think I may also have found my favorite church ever. Santa Maria della Vita has a corner next to the alter that houses, in shadow, the most impressive set of sculpture that I have ever seen in a church. There are 7 life-sized terracotta sculptures reacting to Christ's fallen body before them. Their faces are twisted into the depths of anguish, shockingly visceral and overcome with the force of human feeling.
If you drop 50 cents into a small box hanging from the wall opposite the Pieta you will be rewarded by previously hidden lights illuminating what was just seconds before a shadowy and dark scene. And it is indeed a reward, especially to those who have just spent 15 minutes trying to hold their cameras steady enough in the darkness to capture just a glimpse. I'll not mention any names.
Europe's oldest university is situated in Bologna and has been since the 11th century. Historically a source of Italian luminaries, its intellectual and historical importance can be felt in the weight of the walls and the dip worn into stone steps used by centuries of students.
Bologna is peppered with towers that lean precariously off balance. Think leaning tower of Pisa but made of bricks. Same angle, different materials and in the middle of a functioning city. It's that sort of juxtaposition that allows Bologna a touch of medieval flair. There are also fountains crowned with nude gods and goddesses, with water eschewing from rather uncomfortable places. But rest assured, modern Italy is ever present; should you desire to make a purchase during the lunchtime hour, or on Sundays, you will be met with virtual impossibility.
I will close by saying that if you are scared by the idea of a pasta dish starring anchovies and capers you should not be. You should embrace it and ask the woman who has made it to bring you more. You should take bites of the pasta and run into tiny shreds of anchovy and plump savory capers. You should dredge the spaghetti through the olive oil at the bottom of the plate and catch a few morsels from the sprinkling of parmesan that has randomly fallen across your plate. You should also drink some carbonated red wine with friends and visit each other's meals with your forks and share desserts and walk back to the hotel laughing. You should, most certainly, do this very thing.
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