Like prosciutto rolled in mozzarella cheese (74FR2658)

Soon, the loneliness lifted, the clouds parted, and I was able to see Italy in a new light -- sunlight. The day I headed to Lake Garda on a bus from Verona, the sky was as blue as the water (top left). During my hike around the isthmus at low tide, I admired the Castello Scaligero (top right) and the Grotte di Catullo (bottom left). I skipped going inside either, preferring to enjoy the weather and a Aperol spritz at a cafe next to the Roman ruins (bottom right).

 

 

From the lakeside, I walked back into downtown Sirmione, a tight set of nearly pedestrian-only streets (left). I found lunch at Trattoria La Fiasca, where I had tagliolini (a pink version made with red wine) covered in lake perch and asparagus. To accentuate the noodles, I chose a Ricchi merlot from local Garda winery (right).

 

With my stomach sated, I headed to the Aquaria in Terme di Sirmione to satisfy my other muscles. The lakeside hot springs cost 15 euro for the first hour and 10 euro for each thereafter (left). The 25 euro I spent for two hours was absolutely worth it, although the "required" flip-flips were definitely a 9-euro rip-off; luckily, I got out of buying a swim cap, which probably would've been another 9 euros. The outside pools were the highlight of the springs, especially on a sunny day (right), but it was hard not to head inside to the sauna circuit, which had four kinds of steam baths and four kinds of showers.

 

The way to end a perfectly sunny day is with a sunset -- and a crema antica-chocolate gelato from Cremeria Bulian. I used the fading light to take my one and only self-portrait (top left). And I had lots of company, both amateur photographers taking selfies and professional videographers filming a soap opera during the "golden hour" (top right). In the end, I was able to find some solitary solace in the sunset right before I caught the bus back to Verona (bottom).

 

 

On my way from Verona to Milan, I headed to Parma to fulfill my mission of getting an anniversary present for TJ. I admit, I took the scenic route before I focused on my objective. I admired the sight of changing leaves in Giardino Ducale (top left), the sound of a busking accordionist near the Museo Archeologico Nazionale (top right), and both the sights and sounds of a rebelling flea market near the Universita degli Studi di Parma (bottom).

But of course, I had come to Parma for its famous ham, also known as prosciutto. The downtown store La Prosciutteria had an extensive and enticing selection of meat (top left). I picked up a hunk for TJ from the smaller Salumeria Garabaldi, where I also managed to snag a sample of pecorino cheese. A little while later, I sampled some fresh prosciutto at Trattoria Corrieri, where I ate lunch (top right). I paid 17 euros for a 3-course menu, which I accompanied with the house red wine, a Lambrusco-style Romeo served "frizzante," or with spritz. My first course was risotto alla parmigiana, another famous product from Parma (bottom left). My main course, involtino al tacchino (turkey rolls), were stuffed with Parma's culinary supercombo, prosciutto and parmesan, and covered in a white wine sauce. My dessert was an authentic tiramisu, which was almost as big as the involtinos (bottom right).

Still focused on food, when I reached Milano, I started my city tour with a stop at Mercato Communale Coperto Wagner, which proved my detour to Parma unnecessary. The market was full of ham and cheese, including stacks of parmesan wheels (top left). But it also had plenty of fruits and vegetables; I especially liked the baskets of "to-go, take-home meals" like minestrone (top right). A couple of stops on the subway brought me to Parco Sempione, which I circumnavigated to see the many sides of Castello Sforzesco (bottom).

From the park, it's a straight walk down Via Dante to Milan's embellished Duomo (top). The admission fee was just as extravagant as the cathedral's facade, so I admired the architecture in the company of a cappuccino and brioche at nearby Bar Motta instead (bottom left). I also decided a salame and mozzarella fried panzerotti at Luini Panzerotti was a much better investment in Italian culture (bottom right).

The popular panzerotti shop was just around the corner from Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, whose astounding arches were being sullied by the presence of riot police (left). Just across the plaza, a union parade passed the famous Teatro alla Scala as part of a transport strike (right), which apparently happen so much that people track them on blogs. Later in the day, the subway shut down, which prompted some serendipitous tram rides.

The tram rides were a pleasant surprise as a way to see the city, which I needed after a series of disappointments. There was no old book market in Piazza Diaz. Down the street, the food emporium Peck was way overpriced, with nothing less than 5 euro. When I reached the entertainment district of Navigli, I quickly realized any hopes of a canal tour were dashed by trash (left). With my afternoon plan shot, I headed to Corso Buenos Aires, but then I realized that I am not a shopaholic, so I walked to Giardini Pubblici Indiro Montanelli, where I refueled with a dog-watching and book-reading fix -- and the best hot chocolate ever (right).

But I forgave Milan for all the let-downs because of its "apertivos," or happy hours. I settled in for my first cocktail buffet on my first night, in the design district of Brera (left). The most highly recommended spots were either too crowded or too pricey, so I settled in at Fiori Oscuri, where I paid 7 euros for a chianti accompanied by rice, focaccia, bruschetta, quiche, and meatballs (right); with my appetizer dinner, I also got a show, of a British woman giving a poor English lesson to an Italian man.

On my last night in Milan, I headed to another trendy spot, Corso Como, where designers, including Tom Ford, dine during Fashion Week (left). I did the completely unfashionable thing by going to Ganas, where I bought a 7-euro margarita to get a buffet of chicken nuggets, quesadillas, fajita roll-ups, BBQ sausages, croquettes, quiche, chips and salsa, pesto-like guacamole, and veggies. By now, I was acting like a local and even being treated like one; I was asked for assistance twice, and one time I was even able to direct a man to the Metro, through the use of Spantalian (bad Spanish mixed with bad Italian) and questionable hand gestures (I was much more helpful in Verona to some English-speaking Asian tourists, who I was able to show the right bus at the train station).

 

But for my last supper (incidentally, Leonardo da Vinci's version is on display in Milan, but I didn't get tickets to go see it), I went full-on tourist at Osteria del Gambero Rosso. Even after all the appetizers during apertivo, I still ordered osso bucco with risotto alla milanese and a hearty Karnera, a hercule stout by Cittavecchia that the menu said was selected in consultation with the University of Beer. The meal was completely indulgent, but then again, so was my trip to Italy, making it an appropriate food baby to carry back to Pakistan.

The next vignette that stuck itself in my mind (S.Prt.111-23)

Okay, so I got a little bitter with Italy in my posts about traveling alone and without TJ. The truth is, solo trips can be quite enlightening because you notice things you normally wouldn't. Instead of focusing on your travel partner, you can openly watch other people. And the things they do can suprise you. In one week in Italy, I observed the following, vignettes recorded only in my mind because they passed too quickly to capture with a camera:

Random Acts of Kindness
A daughter walking her elderly mother patiently to church
A waitress discreetly offering to give a rambunctious young boy a lollipop
A teenager giving a kiss to his girlfriend right before the train doors closed
A mother trying to carry her son's heavy bag even though she already had a suitcase and he was in his 20s

Random Acts of Annoyance
A waiter rolling his eyes at a rowdy table coming in at 20 minutes till close
A man dragging his dog down the street to prevent it from pooping on the sidewalk
A crowd of passengers scrunching their noses at the "fragrance" of a homeless man on a tram

Random Acts of Inappropriateness
A cyclist openly peeing at the busy intersection of two roads and a bike path during rush hour
A man smoking a cigarette as he boarded a bus who then put it out by crushing it with his foot on the bus floor
A woman with a partial bouquet stealing complementary palm fronds from someone's front yard

Random Acts of Inventiveness
A guitarist practicing his finger placement on the train, while his instrument was stored in the overhead bin
A man accessing old town Mantova by swiping a pass through a super-spy "trash can"
A well-trained chocolate lab curled up in the small trunk of a Toyota Yaris hatchback

Random Acts of Affability
A man feeding sparrows pieces of potato chips out of his hand
A dog riding in a boat with three young guys obviously day drinking
A toddler greeting his friend with a back slap like an old man would give

Random Acts of Degustation
A Verona commuter sipping a glass of red wine well before 7 a.m.
A family struggling to enjoy dinner while "I got my T-shirt and my panties on" played in the background
A cook in brightly-patterned pants and Crocs smoking a pipe in front of his restaurant
A man bulging his eyes at the size of a pasta portion

Random Acts of Inexplicability
A stylish man in a red fedora and red sunglasses riding a cruiser bicycle
A homeless man carrying a pet pigeon in a cage
An upset man clearly arguing with a horse

Like many star-crossed lovers before them (12-3015 Jones v. Biter)

Did I fail to mention in my last post that I chose to travel alone during the week of my wedding anniversary? That's because I'm a bit ashamed that I abandoned my husband during such a momentous occasion. But I'm also quite proud, because although he was clearly jealous of my trip, TJ fully encouraged me to go, only giving me minor guilt trips after the fact. I imposed a guilt trip on myself, too, by being in Verona -- yes, the fair city where Shakespeare lay the scene of one of the most well-known romances of all time: Romeo and Juliet -- on my anniversary.

Fittingly enough, it was raining when I first entered Verona the day before my anniversary. Nonetheless, Via Mazzini, one of the city's main shopping streets, still looked colorful (top). Seriously, the street is so classy that its storefronts are modeled after the Roman architecture that once filled the town (bottom left). Of course, there is still plenty of actual Roman architecture nearby, including Porta Borsari, a gate dating to 1 AD (bottom right).

Actually, the real architectural wonders of the city are the Castelvecchio, a 14th-century castle built atop Roman foundations, and the Arena, the ancient Roman colosseum that is home to massive opera and orchestra performances (top left). Across town and the Adige River, the Teatro Romano every summer hosts stage productions, including Romeo and Juliet (top right). The admission was only 1 euro because the accompanying museum was closed for renovations, but the visit was worth the view of Ponte Pietra, another Roman remnant, and the Cattedral di Verona beyond (bottom left). After I crossed Ponte Pietra, I found some chocolate-raspberry gelato to cheer me up, but it was short-lived as I read all the romantic riverside graffitti (bottom right).

 

 

Among the more modern monuments in Verona is the market of Piazza delle Erbe, which means "herb square" (top left). Towering over the plaza is Torre dei Lamberti, where you can climb steps (or ride an elevator) to see a wonderful view of the city, which is good because after the bells chime the hour, you will have lost your sense of hearing (top right). Atop the tower, I found a love lock attached the railing (bottom), a tradition that supposedly started at Rome's Ponte Milvio but has spread across the county and throughout the world.

To drown my sorrows, I had a pre-dinner drink, a local white wine called Dama del Rovere from Soave, at Antica Bottega di Vini. But I didn't feel much better because there was a man and woman sipping wine and sharing quips, like an old married couple, just a few tables away (left). So I was off to stuff my sorrows instead. I found a good candidate in a calzone the size of my head at Pizzeria Du De Cope. I debated whether to eat the whole thing, but I decided to go for it when all the women at the next table cleaned their plates. In a moment of unbridled restraint, I skipped dessert.

The next day, my actual anniversary date, I devoted my attention to the star-crossed lovers. I visited the Casa di Giulietta, where people rub Juliet's left boobie for luck in love (top left). Incidentally, later that night, as I was trying a local red wine, Masi Valpolicella, at Carro Armato, I read a news story about how the tradition is unlucky for the sculpture because it is deteriorating the bronze facade of the "rich jewel." I also went to the Tomba di Giulietta, but there was no way I was paying 4.50 euro to see a slab of rock that might not be related to the Capulets at all (top right). However, I paid the cash to eat dinner in the building that purportedly was the Montagues' home (bottom left). The restaurant inside is known as Osteria al Duca, where I tried braised carne di cavallo, otherwise known as horsemeat.

Earlier that day, I banished myself to Mantua (Mantova), just like Romeo. And much like the journey of the "exiled rogue," my trip was a bit rocky. When I first got on the train, I had forgotten to validate my ticket, so I jumped off at the last minute to do so, and the doors closed just as I was about to hop back on. My own benefactor, a lovely conductor cut from the fold of Friar Laurence, let me run to the front car and validated my ticket by hand. (By the way, this was a much better moment than when I tried to validate my bus ticket in the change machine.) After getting off the train in Mantova and strolling along Lago Superiore on my way to the old center, I headed straight to Teatro Scientifico Bibiena, an interesting performance space with audience boxes behind the stage where royal families -- feuding or not -- often sat.

The entire city is a UNESCO site, mostly because of the many buildings built by the royal Gonzaga family, including Palazzo di Ducale. I wandered through its courtyards instead of touring inside because a majority of the palace was shut down for restoration (left). The Palazzo della Ragione also was covered with scaffolding, and I tried to ignore the jackhammer noise as I enjoyed a cafe macchiato and a slice of sbrisolona, or "three-cup cake," at Bar Caravatti in Mantova's Piazza delle Erbe (right).

 

With most of the historical buildings under construction, I opted to take a lake tour with Motonavi Andes Negrini. I spied all three lakes while walking in the waterside parks (top left), but I got a closer look at Lago di Mezzo and Lago Inferiore as I rode with a tour group of completely uninterested high-schoolers. Luckily, I was able to block out their antics as I drank it the view of the Basilica di Santa Barbara, in front of the Palazzo di Ducale, from the boat (top right).

Unfortunately, I could not block out all the signs reminding me of the absence of my favorite travel partner. Signs for TIM, a part of Telecom Italia, were as ubiquitous as swans in Mantova and Verona (bottom), but sadly, the real TJ was nowhere to be found.