Italy week II: Cremona
For our second week in Italy we moved to Cremona, a lovely midsized town in a vaguely SE direction of Milan (I think). This was a great point from which to visit Milan and access the nearby Emilia Romagna region and its wonderful cuisine- such classics as Parmigiano Reggiano (parmesan cheese), Aceto Balsamico (balsamic vinegar) and prosciutto.
Had better start with a foodie shot then- a hungry window shopper´s dream, fresh pasta in Bologna
And this is where we spent almost every night for our week in Cremona, our local piazza- sipping our caffes, licking our gelatos or getting onto the harder beverages - the Bellinis with fresh peach and spumante were especially good
We took a day trip into Milan to view and Last Supper and check out the city. Security measures prevent us from showing you pics of the famous supper, however, I can tell you that with upmost confidence that John is looking very... masculine.
What an amazing sight, especially from the roof- Milan's gothic masterpiece
And some very sinewy guy we found inside
Unfortunately, not every night whilst in Cremona did we get to take a leisurely passeggiata around the piazzas of Cremona, as one night Trent decided it was too boring hanging out with me and my parents and... well, here is his side of the story...
Let me start by saying - the first half of this day was fantastic. It began well and just seemed to be getting better. The trouble was it ended with me stranded in Bologna, and spending the night with the local crew at the train station.
We (Mel's parents, Mel and I) had all headed to Modena this particular morning and, after some sightseeing and lunch, I parted company and caught a bus to the nearby town of Maranello, headquarters to Ferrari. A great coincidence for me - it turned out to be Ferrari's 60th anniversary and a huge day was planned.
On the streets of Maranello, three quarters of the traffic were Ferraris - quite a sight. But what was really incredible for me was to find that F1 Ferraris, past and present, were doing laps of the test track driven by the likes of Lauda, Alesi, Berger, Raikkonen and Schumacher. It was so exciting I hardly noticed the 5.30pm bus drive past me. On that bus were my last hopes of getting back to Cremona and Mel's last hopes of a peaceful and worry-free sleep.
After catching the next bus (over an hour later - Maranello does good sports cars but not public transport) there were only two trains left that ended up (via connections) getting me home. And because of current Italian industrial relations issues (that's who I blame - the first train was running 130min late!) and a degree of incompetence by me (in desperation, I got a train to Bologna hoping for a connection, then waited at the wrong platform. Why is there a 'Platform 5' and 'Platform 5 West', nowhere near each other?) I was stranded for the night. Far worse was that I had no way of contacting Mel to tell her.
I did meet some interesting characters that night, including a really nice Moroccon guy who was from Casablanca, married, worked as a mechanic, and lived in Fidenza. I mention this just because I don't speak French or Arabic, and he didn't speak a word of English so I'm still not sure how I found this out. Then there was the local 'resident' who moved me on from his bed, when I'd found an unoccupied concrete barrier to sit on. And the guy who wanted me to buy him a cheeseburger (I turned him down. Hey, I only just enough cash to get myself home the next morning!).
Just when I was really starting to feel like one of the crew morning came and I boarded the first train, ready to face the wrath of Mel and wondering if her parents would ban her from further travels with someone so disorganised and irresponsible. But generously, in spite of the trouble I'd caused, I was greeted with happy and relieved faces (and a slightly teary Mel) and a much needed shower and bed.
And now to fill in a couple of gaps...
* At 10pm when the last train had been due into Cremona and there was no trace of Trent we started to worry, but we too had previous experienced the train bureaucracy, and so concern was only slight.
* At 12 Dad headed to the police station and they confirmed that the last train had come in. They called the train stations where Trent could have been and there was no sight of him... they didn´t call Bolgona has no one thought he would have actually gone in the opposite direction to Cremona! Worry levels were escalating- he had no passport and not much money and no bank cards as I had them.
* 1-8am Mum and I slept in the lounge room- me curled up on the lounge and mum on a chair (she wouldn´t go to bed). And... (this should make Trent feel really bad!) when I woke up she had made her way to the floor as the chair had become too uncomfortable.
* The guilty party walks in around 8am wondering why we weren´t that excited to hear about all those brilliant Ferrari drivers and cars.
Just in case you are interested (don´t worry- there is no obligation) here is what Trent was viewing a few hours before my Mum was lying on the floor. Apparently it is Schumacher.