Padova
Padova (or Padua) was our pre-tour destination: near enough to reach Venice easily before the tour began but with a rich history and tradition of its own even though it had long been under the watchful eye of Venice’s winged lion. Getting to Padova was our first adventure in Italy. After buying bus tickets in the terminal, we stood outside waiting for the coach to arrive, enjoying the mild late afternoon air on leap-year day though we were fading slowly. The journey took us all the way into Venice before turning inland, picking-up and dropping-off travelers and commuters heading home after work along the way.
We wrestled our bags from the underbelly of the coach near the train station in Padova where we could see just ahead the tram we hoped to ride to the Santo stop near our hotel. Buying tickets from a newsstand – after asking at the tourist office – the tram snaked its way through the old town, swinging and swaying with homeward-bound workers. It was a short walk beyond the façade of the Basilica and Donatello’s famous Gattamelata equestrian statue to Hotel Al Santo.
Tired but unwilling to give into our weariness, we walked Padova’s university streets busy with bicycle traffic and lined with dissertation printers huddled along arcaded sidewalks to find an internet café to send a “we made it” message home, only to discover an unwelcome glitch in our credit card situation (solved happily later) and a revised tour roster and change of tour guide. Dinner was at Pizzeria Pago Pago around the corner from the hotel where we enjoyed the first of many pizzas we’d eat during our time in Italy.
Awakened by the sound of bells from the Basilica, which we could see from our open windows, our first full day in Italy promised blue skies and pleasant temperatures, perfect for wandering through the historic center filled with canvas-topped stalls selling clothing, fruit and vegetables, and lined with fish, meat and pasta shops busy with local customers.
We arrived at the university in time for a late morning tour with about a dozen visitors from Brazil, Germany, France, Italy. That same international flavor has marked this, one of Europe’s oldest seats of learning, from the beginning. We saw the main lecture hall where Galileo taught, portraits of illustrious alumni, and the steep tiered galleries of the early anatomy theater where eager students and teachers worked all night to avoid the interference of church authorities.
After shopping at PAM Supermarket for a picnic lunch which we’d eat later, we made our way to the Scrovegni Chapel for our timed appointment to see the restored Giotto frescoes, wandering first through the art galleries of the Pinacoteca for a glimpse at Giotto’s crucifix preserved in dim light under the watchful eyes of guards. The Chapel was every bit as stunning as I had expected it to be, its images seared into my imagination since college art history days (an experience that would be repeated throughout this trip). Giotto was an artist ahead of his time, paving the way for the pioneers of the Renaissance a century later with his beautifully rendered human faces and emotions.
We didn’t get to the Basilica of St. Anthony until early evening, arriving in the middle of Mass. It felt oddly disrespectful to study the art in the saint’s chapel as lines of the faithful leaned against his tomb in prayer. In the same way, visiting the Reliquary with his various body parts seemed foreign and strange.
After checking out several dining possibilities, we returned to the city center for a good meal selected from a wide variety of offerings at the Brek self-service ristorante off Piazza Cavour. The streets were full of shoppers, strollers and diners as we made our way back to the hotel at the end of an interesting day in this city of the Veneto.
We arrived at the university in time for a late morning tour with about a dozen visitors from Brazil, Germany, France, Italy. That same international flavor has marked this, one of Europe’s oldest seats of learning, from the beginning. We saw the main lecture hall where Galileo taught, portraits of illustrious alumni, and the steep tiered galleries of the early anatomy theater where eager students and teachers worked all night to avoid the interference of church authorities.
After shopping at PAM Supermarket for a picnic lunch which we’d eat later, we made our way to the Scrovegni Chapel for our timed appointment to see the restored Giotto frescoes, wandering first through the art galleries of the Pinacoteca for a glimpse at Giotto’s crucifix preserved in dim light under the watchful eyes of guards. The Chapel was every bit as stunning as I had expected it to be, its images seared into my imagination since college art history days (an experience that would be repeated throughout this trip). Giotto was an artist ahead of his time, paving the way for the pioneers of the Renaissance a century later with his beautifully rendered human faces and emotions.
We didn’t get to the Basilica of St. Anthony until early evening, arriving in the middle of Mass. It felt oddly disrespectful to study the art in the saint’s chapel as lines of the faithful leaned against his tomb in prayer. In the same way, visiting the Reliquary with his various body parts seemed foreign and strange.
After checking out several dining possibilities, we returned to the city center for a good meal selected from a wide variety of offerings at the Brek self-service ristorante off Piazza Cavour. The streets were full of shoppers, strollers and diners as we made our way back to the hotel at the end of an interesting day in this city of the Veneto.