Pan, it turns out, likes gelato almost as much as Mike does. Depriving the pup of any chocolate flavors probably means Mike still has the more developed palate, but Pan would really like his fair shot.
Nearly any gelato shop calls for a stop, even if you've only just thrown away the last bit of cone from the previous scoops. Last summer's Italian trip introduced us to the best pistachio gelato ever made, in the home of pistachios, no less: Bronte, Sicily. Still, it was worth seeing if anything else measured up, as well as tasting plenty of
baccio, caffe, and
pesca (that's peach, not fish!) along the way.
I'm skipping ahead a bit, though, and should review our main stops in Friuli before wandering south.
The main reason for our stay in the Friuli region was Trieste. Rarely does much in Italy disappoint, but we felt that this city did. Maybe we get enough Austro-Hungarian empire at home in Vienna. Maybe it was just a bit hot with too many places closed for the August holidays. In either case, Trieste does balance interestingly between Italy and Austria in terms of its physical style. The heat, the water, the people tell you immediately that you're in Italy. But Maria Theresa looms large over the city with her planned streets, grand buildings, and frilly yet sobering neo-classicism.
One of the highlights of the city was the palace belonging to one rather unlucky Hapsburg, Maximilian. Younger brother of the Austrian emperor, Max was sent out to the port city with his new wife, and built a relatively modest (by Imperial Austrian standards) house called Castello di Miramare, overlooking the harbor. Unfortunately, he never saw the palace completed. His next less-than-desirable assignment was as Emperor of Mexico. He wasn't quite shot on arrival, but didn't survive the ongoing guerilla war there.
Friuli provided a port to another empire, as well. Aquileia was one of the main ports of the Roman empire, and the fourth largest city in Italy at the time. Now it's a small town, partially displaced by the discovery of more ruins, and primarily providing a large parking lot for visitors. A pathway lined by cypresses borders the old harbor (filled in with silt many years ago), making a nice shaded walk on a very hot summer day.
The greatest surprise at the end of this path was the basilica. Now, Mike and I have been known to skip the later Christian bits of Roman sites. They're usually not as interesting. This was a huge exception. Begun in 313, the church as it now stands dates mainly from the 11th century. But what is truly amazing is the huge mosaic floor covering the interior, and dating from around the time of original construction. That's the fourth century. That makes this the "largest antique mosaic pavement known" (thank you, Blue Guide). Unfortunately, they're pretty hard to photograph without a flash. And as Pan got a bit bored waiting in the courtyard and didn't photograph well either, we'll move along.
(On the road again ... Pan's preferred position in the car.)Tuesday morning we drove back west and slightly south to the Veneto. This part of northern Italy offers some beautiful scenery, but also several charming cities missed out in the usual Venice-Rome-Florence itinerary. A detour to Treviso slowed us down a bit, but we arrived in the mid-afternoon at our next stop, a small bed & breakfast run by three sisters about 20 minutes outside of Verona.
Directions and SatNav had not been our friends that afternoon, as a relatively new road bypassing Venice was not on any map, and the directions to the hotel left us facing a gravel road with walls and locked gates on either side. Fortunately, one of those gates opened, and Valeria, Maura, and Giovanna welcomed us to their home. The secret garden behind their walls deserves its own write-up, so I'll save that for my final entry.
Our B&B provided a jumping off point to explore Verona, Padua, Vicenza, and the surrounding Palladian villas. On our previous visit at Easter we had spent most of a day in Verona, and this time we made it our first stop for a short walk and dinner on the evening of our arrival. It feels, in some ways, like a miniature version of Rome. The city is nestled among hills, with a river coursing through its center. In smaller scale, everything is more intimate, more relaxed, and more welcoming than Rome (photo courtesy of our Easter visit when the light was a bit better).
While this probably remains our favorite city in the region, Vicenza has claim on the best and most unified architecture of the trip. Practically every other building was designed by Palladio, and his statue near the town center solidifies his importance to the area.
Unfortunately (for us, not so much for the residents), many of the Palladian villas in the surrounding countryside are still privately owned. For anyone else touring the area, careful planning is worthwhile in order to visit them. We were less organized in this respect, so we satisfied ourselves with a drive-by of the Villa Rotunda.
Padua was the last city we visited, and while heavy bombing in WWII destroyed the more beautiful old buildings, an important one did survive. The Scrovegni Chapel, its walls covered by Giotto's frescoes, is quite simply a masterpiece. Environmental controls meant to preserve the fragile works mean visits are limited to 15 minutes (plus a 15 minute introductory video).
Mike and I spaced our timed tickets so we both could visit the chapel, and Pan relaxed in the shade of the sculpture garden. As much as the sidewalk pigeons and gelato stands of the cities interested him, though, Pan was really most happy in the garden of our B&B. Next time, a full account of that.
