Apparently they needed another brick (or two) in the wall

Bologna shows us why weather is important, and English people are justified in talking about it all the time. It can totally change the character of a city.

It was my first visit to Bologna, and I picked a day when it was tipping down with rain (it’s been raining a lot lately) and was also a public holiday, so everything was shut. It all felt a bit blah, to be honest. The compensation was that I got to watch a big military ceremony/parade in the Piazza Maggiore, and admire all the Italian uniforms. One of the guards made fun of me for taking pictures of the policemen. And for having my umbrella open under the loggia.

I saw the due torre – the two leaning towers (what is it with people not building towers that can stand straight here), and climbed the tallest. I’m putting a picture below, but I don’t think it captures how tall it really is, especially when you’re climbing its smooth wooden steps on a wet day. It’s a lot taller than you think. Taller than Pisa. 500 steps. Tall in the way that, you look up, and see a wooden roof, and think oh good, not much further (because you’ve already been climbing for a while) and then you get to the “roof” and realise it is merely a sort of landing, and there’re about five more of those to go before you gingerly step out at the top and edge your way around, staying just long enough to get your 3 euro’s worth before getting out of Dodge.

I’m ok with heights, but not great, and the tower really does lean, and I really wanted to sit down for a minute on the way to the ground to stop my legs wobbling, but had the feeling that if I did, I wouldn’t want to stand up again, and would have to bump my way down on my bottom, rather like winnie the pooh in that poem, if that’s the one I mean.

I had to fortify myself with gelato afterwards.

The other reason I threw in Pink Floyd above is that Bologna is the seat of the oldest University in Europe (am I just biased, or would you have expected that to be in England?). The streets covered by miles of loggias, apparently so that students and professors can have intellectual conversations while strolling round town independent of the weather (and tourists quite like the weather protection too).
I found a couple of open churches (the cantata of St Cecilia, who is possibly my favourite female saint, which had lovely fresoces. At least, they were lovely at first look, and then as so often happens, you find yourself thinking, oh, what rich colours, oh what a charming scene, how pure and pastoral, look at the peasants receiving blessings, oh that one’s being decapitated…)

Then I happened upon a museum that was open, bless it. The exhibition was about myths and world exploration, and I was glad I’d read Longitude, as I felt I had a special appreciation for the chronometer. And they had beautiful models of ships, and what I think was a sextant, except that in Italian it was called an octant? I’m a little confused.

In the permanent exhibition they had a very cool Newton room with prisms, nature collection with things like turtle shells, bezoars, and ostrich eggs, and some fascinating waxworks of human anatomy, including a rather cute one of a uterus with twins, though I won’t share pics as pregnant people may be reading and I don’t want to freak ‘em out.

When I came out, so had the sun, and the whole atmosphere had changed along with it. The streets were now crowded, people were sitting in the piazza, where there was rather an odd but entertaining band playing, and Bologna now seemed like quite a chipper place. I had the BEST PASTA EVER, with mushrooms and gorgonzola at the caffe Zamboni, and more than one hot chocolate.

It does feel like a university city, from the buildings to the gelato flavours (primo notte di testi =first exam night =caramel + wafers + yum), to the bookshops everywhere, to the kids wearing black and piercings that look a lot like the heroin addicts on the streets, but not enough alike that there isn’t enough difference to tell.

The academic atmosphere is rather exhilarating. You feel some of the explorers’ excitement of discovery.

Yeah, we need SOME education.