Bologna Italy 2013

We arrived in Bologna September 15, 2013.  After a delay at SFO that necessitated a dash for a connection in Frankfort, exacerbated by an incrediably slow passport control person, we arrived on schedule with 5 hours of Ambien induced sleep under our belts and no checked luggage.  Paul took small comfort from a photo, snapped by a fellow traveler, of our bags sitting on the tarmac as our plane from Frankfort awaited takeoff.  But we have traveled ahead of our bags before and thus had packed essentials in our back packs.  All being well that has ended thus, the bags arrived 24 hours later, appreciated all the more due to their delay.  

The hotel was close to all the historical sights, friendly and accommodating of our bad Italian.  The first night they recommended a Trattoria Rossa that accepts travelers in hiking boots and the like.  It was about 68 F so we ate al fresco and enjoyed family style local ambiance.  Just when we had decided  what to order and were eagerly anticipating our meal, our waiter grabbed another waiter and they suddenly took off down the street, returning in about 10 minutes with a prior diner who had apparently left without paying his bill.  After heavy discussion and excuses, the man paid up.   It gave real meaning to the phrase, “We know where you live.”  Our meal when it finally arrived was of the region and well prepared, particularly the “stinko” - pig shank.  We walked back to the hotel feeling that we had once again arrived in Italy.  

We spent two more days seeing Bologna, a prosperous early center of education, architecture and art dating back to 1000 BC.  The world's oldest University, dating back to 1088, is scattered within the historic area. We visited an Anatomy Theater from the 17th C., made of beautiful carved wood, where medical students watched early surgeries.

We also hunted down the Morandi Museum which had been moved and incorporated within the MAMBO (Museo Arte Moderne Bologna).  Paul fell in love with Morandi’s art long ago as a young man. Morandi’s timeframe was just after the impressionists, but he had his own unique representation of light, texture and form that Danice doesn’t quite “get”.  He is recognized as one of Italy’s greatest artists.  (Likely they mean “greatest” way after Michaelangelo, DaVinci and  Botecelli.  Caravaggio too maybe.  But what do I know? Paul thinks they meant "greatest living artist", but then he died. )  

We climbed a 100 meter tower to look down upon the city; starting to get our legs in shape for hiking trails to come.  Nice perspective on the city plan from up there.  

Here are a few random shots of Bologna.

Ready now for more serious food and wine, we found a very nice Bologna restaurant at Serghie’s. Delightful food -  like the best Italian home cooking one could imagine. Paul’s Pasta Bolognese was the Bolognese one dreams about; a fabulous complexity of flavors.  My stuffed zuchini was  in a wonderful sauce with meatballs of tender meat (it must have been veal) and other flavors.  I asked the host, who is Serghie’s son (Serghie has died, unfortunately)  whether Mama had taught them to cook, and he said, “Mama is in the kitchen now... So is my sister!” Almost an hour later, Paul watched a woman of about 65 leave the restaurant alone and wondered if that could be Mama.  We asked and Serghie’s son told us, “Yes, that was Mama… she still works every night and she is 84.”  Hard to believe she was that old;  but we are among the grateful benefactors of her many years of loving, cooking experience.  

Then off the next morning to Hertz for a small Fiat to take us into the Trentino mountains (not the Dolomites, which are visible in the distance) for our home exchange in Serrada.