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Bologna: the city of a gazillion porticoes

The very first things F and I noticed, as our taxi took on the streets of Bologna, are the warm colours of the buildings which help the city earns its nickname of Bologna la Rossa – Bologna the Red, and the astounding number of porticoes. Strangely enough, there isn’t a particular nickname linked to the latter, supposedly a famous feature of Bologna.

(Bologna has two other nicknames: the Learned/Educated – la Dotta – a reference to the oldest university in the world, University of Bologna, founded in 1088; and the Fat – la Grassa – celebrating the culinary legacy of the capital of Emilia-Romagna, which gives you the familiar ragù alla Bolognese!)

Bologna

Bologna

I’d like to declare Bologna the “City of a Gazillion Porticoes”, because it really felt like it. (I subsequently learned that there are nearly 40km of porticoes within the historic centre itself!) Inevitably, some are more elegant than others, some are more lavishly decorated, some rely on floor tile motives to stand out, some stay hidden unless you peek into unexpected courtyards and doors, and some could do with serious restorations. Regardless, they all make great shelters from the elements.

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Postcards: Lost in Parma (IT)

After a few days in Cinque Terre we were packing again, this time to go to Bologna. It was a multiple-trains journey. While I had not bothered buying Regionale tickets ahead of time, I did have tickets for Parma-Bologna on which I scored a good online price on. The small problem? Trains serving Cinque Terre always ran late – at least that was the case when we were there, even for those at 7.30am! – and we did not want to risk missing our connection.

Parma

Parma

We therefore found ourselves leaving Vernazza/La Spezia on earlier local trains and had a couple of hours to kill in Parma. Thinking we could pull something similar while visiting Florence, we were excited to see the town that lends its name to the famous Italian prosciutto. One strategical error: it was a Sunday when just about everything was closed, bar a few restaurants/cafes; one unexpected hurdle: the train station was under works and so no left luggage service could be found.

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Weekend eats

I don’t do brunch on a regular basis. In fact, I even suck at sleeping in. Any random Saturday morning, by 11am – the time when most people (or hispters?) grab their first bites of the day – I would have done my grocery shopping, ran a load of laundry, and probably planning what to cook for lunch. Nowadays, I’m even throwing in a swimming date with a friend into the mix. And on Sunday morning? F is supposed to “encourage” me to take a long jog in nearby parks.

Weekend eats

Weekend eats

Going to brunch is still a special occasion to me, usually for a irregular catch-up gabfest with a friend. Or to hangout with a visitor. I don’t have a favourite place to brunch, but it does give me an excuse to try out different spots around town. Most recently, when SL was in town and we were meeting in the neighbourhood around Canal St Martin, she let me led her to Holybelly so I could finally check it out.

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Hidden Paris: Canal St Martin to Mouzaïa

I love friends who make effort to visit Paris more than once. It means this city is no mere checklist item for them; it also opens up the possibility of leading them to Parisian neighbourhoods where few visitors venture in because they still need to see the Louvre, or Notre Dame, or Montmartre, and the likes. Don’t get me wrong: these are good places to see with much to learn (art, architecture, culture, etc) but after bringing one friend after another to the same set of places, it’s a nice change to be elsewhere, you know?

Canal St Martin to Mouzaïa

Canal St Martin to Mouzaïa

After a lovely brunch near the Canal St Martin (more on that next time), I invited SL to join me on an exploratory walk towards Mouzaïa, another purported “countryside” of Paris that lies in the 19th arrondissement. I don’t often come by this part of the city either, as I normally play explorer to discover the nooks and corners near where I live instead. Our trail took us from Canal St Martin to the small hilly streets by Colonel Fabien, then towards Parc des Buttes-Chaumont to continue towards the villas branching out from rue de Mouzaïa. And voila, the photos of things and places we admired on that wonderfully sunny September afternoon.

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The villages of Cinque Terre

This is one place, or more accurately, national park which needs very little introduction. The famous five Ligurian villages – Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore (from north to south) – interspersed along the rocky coastline of the Riviera di Levante have been written up and photographed by many, and here I am, with my meager personal contribution about these overly-revered villages.

Cinque Terre

Cinque Terre

F and I had rented quite possibly the smallest AirBnB room in Vernazza (cosier than Parisian budget hotel rooms, if it is at all possible), at the street level, so we could not open the wooden shutter without everyone looking in while we enjoyed the privilege of hearing every conversation in passing. It was conveniently located for us to explore the area but you can also see why it was tough for us to air the enchanting “eau de pied” when our hiking boots were off!

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Sunsets of Cinque Terre

The perk of spending a couple of nights in Cinque Terre: F and I caught beautiful sunsets on both balmy Italian evenings in quaint villages, feeling lighter and happier than usual. I’m not sure if it’s possible to get more idyllic than this.

At Vernazza, we combined sunset watching with cocktail and dinner high above the village, at a terraced restaurant. The experience was mostly undocumented as my camera battery died and I’ve left the spare in our room. The next evening in Riomaggiore, we went back to basic and bought fresh pasta-to-go and sat by the port to eat. We also added a cone of gelati as dessert, all the while observing people came and went in their (row) boats.

Sunset in Cinque Terre

Sunset in Cinque Terre

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Dining in Lu.C.C.A. – L’Imbuto

It is no secret that F and I like eating in single menu – or no menu, depending how you see it – restaurants. We like to be surprised with something different, something that pushes our (usual) palate boundary, and more importantly, something that the chef creates based on what’s fresh and in season from the market. Even better combination, for us, would be a meal that’s creative yet home-y at the same time.

You may have noticed the lack of planning to our Italian trip thus far, relying mainly on serendipitous wandering around town for sightseeing, food, and gelati. Apart from knowing where we would be sleeping on any particular night, everything could happen. L’Imbuto (i.e. The Funnel) was the sole restaurant that I’d pencilled onto our itinerary, having seen it mentioned in an article about Lucca and got me all curious.

L'Imbuto

L'Imbuto

It was a tough self-debate if we should seek out Cristiano Tomei’s contemporary restaurant, or head to one of the local favourites which serves more traditional fares. We eventually decided an evening of out-of-the-ordinary meal over two weeks of traditional Italian could be a good culinary break. Our B&B host did make us doubt our decision for a moment, with his constant mention of how “special” this restaurant is, according to his friends.

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The walled-city of Lucca

Lucca is a splendid walled-city, lies just to the north east of Pisa. I am not sure why there aren’t more people visiting this small city, but I am certainly grateful that we got to enjoy it without being jostled about. Founded over two millennia ago (even Julius Caesar had been here, and Puccini called it his hometown), it had seen days of glory (it was an independent city state, like Venice, until Napoleon came along) as well as certain decline (the fall into the Tuscan’s hand). Luckily, it had also retain plenty of charm to make this a worthy detour when travelling in the region. Hands down, better than Pisa!

Lucca

Lucca

The very first thing any visitor should do is to rent a bike. While Lucca is the kind of place one could happily saunter from one end to another, there is much more fun to be had on two wheels, especially when you could start touring the city by way of its intact Renaissance-era city walls and tree-lined ramparts. Very leisurely, a full turn takes about 20-25 minutes to complete. And you’d want to do it more than once, or maybe even in the other direction.

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