21st June 2000 Padua and Montagnana
Trip Start
Apr 27, 2000
1
56
81
Trip End
Aug 09, 2000
Padua and Montagnana,
Italy
Thursday, June 26, 2003
An 8.00 am start for Padua, still wasn't early enough. Loverly cross country drive through small villages to within 10 km of Padua, and then we joined the peakhour traffic heading in to town. We had a plan. Drive till we come to the wall of the city, turn left and drive the road that runs along the wall up the western side, follow it to the right at its northern extreme, and at the railway station, enter the walls, and take the first parking station on the left. Great plan. Entered the city near the station, ran into a miriad of one way streets, battled through the traffic and found ourselve out front of the Basilica di San Antonio, at the south-eastern end of town. Canals run throughout the town, inside the walls and out, so that doesn't help any. Fortunately, there was an information office near the Basilica, and they provided a larger scale map, and indicated a huge parking station just down the road, just on the other side of the Prato della Valle. Unfortunately, they neglected to mention that the map didn't indicate one way streets. Every street was one way, away from the parking station. We started out 600 metres north-east from the parking station, drove for many kilometers, and finaly approached it from the north-west. The parking station has been named the Yitsak Rabin Piazza of Peace.
The fortunate thing about getting lost, and having stumbled on the tourist information office, was that we had a map that disclosed one of the best kept secrets about Padua. This is Prato Della Valle. This is the biggest piazza/park we have come across in any Italian city. It is a huge oval park, with only a few shrubs, a major fountain in the middle, a canal around the outside, paths and lawns, completely surrounded by an oval of marble statues and then enclosed by a roadway wide enough for three cars. Surrounding this are the buildings, including the wonderful Venetian Palazzo, Palazzo Zacco which includes Loggia Amulia fronting the street, and Casa Palla Strozzi Betlemme, on the corner as you leave the Prato to walk up to the Basilica di San Antonio. Both are wonderful renaissance designs, beautifuly decorated. Non of this appeared in any of the guidebooks we had. It also meant there weren't any other tourists. It is the sort of park that attracts the locals to lie in the sun after lunch, which we discoverd later when returning to our car.
We started our tour at the Basilica di San Antonio. Built in 1232 to house the remains of St Anthony of Padua, who had modeled himself on St Francis of Assisi. In both cases, their home cities built lavish churches to comemorate very humble men. This church is receiving an enormous number of pilgrims, and on this day, it was packed. We tiptoed for a while, trying not to feel selfconscious as a service proceeded, and after brief glimpses of the Donatello reliefs and statues, left and contented ourselves with his statue of Gattamelata outside the main entrance. Donatello won fame with this statue which was the first large equestrian statue since the Roman times. Gattamalata was a mercenary soldier who served the Venetian Republic.
We headed up town to the University of Padua, to check if we could see the Anatomy Lecture Theatre. It is the oldest in the world, built in 1594. Guided tours only, maximum 30 people, and only at 2.15, 3.15 and 4.15. We decided to return at 2.00.
Next stop was to check out Ristorante Antico Brolo, a "plate" restaurant for lunch. At L20,000 for prima piati, and L37,000 for secondo, it would have been a L150,000+ exercise, and the "plate" dish was Testina di Vitello All'Aceto Cotto E Cipolla. Now, Vitello is a calf, so it is something from a calf called Testina. Our electronic translater always wants to correct, so it insisted that I had meant "destina", and translated to "fate". I'm pretty certain that the restaurant isn't serving either "fated calves" or "fatted calves". I decided to give the translater one last chance, and in English keyed in "testicles". It responded, "can't help". I would have been prepared to give it a go, but not at those prices.
By now it was stiflingly hot, and we were up in the most open part of the city, in search of the Internet cafe. Located and sent off a holiday report. Over to the booking offices for two companies that offer cruises to Venice, via the Brenta Canal. We had seen their brochures, and figured it would be a great way to travel there on the Saturday. Cruising the canal, stopping to visit two of the Villas, and lunch on the way. Wasn't to be. Brochures were wrong, and they don't run a Saturday service (which makes it difficult to explain why we saw some on the Saturday).
Cappella degli Scrovegni was the only church/art gallery we planned on visiting in Padua. Having bought tickets, we had to line up in groups of twenty, outside a large glass structure built around the main entrance. On the quarter hour, we were allowed into the first room, while the people who had just vacated it, had moved into the Capella itself. In the holding room were video and computer presentations on the Cappella, all in Italian. Fifteen minutes later, the preceeding group exited into their glass passageway, the door to the Cappella closed, the door to an exit room opened, and they filed in there. Again when all doors were sealed, their exit door opened. We were now released into the glass passageway, and the door sealed behind us. The door to the Cappella opened, and we were inside. The point being, you are only allowed in 20 people at a time for 15 minutes, so it probably takes an hour getting in and out. A group of eight americans made a realy big deal about it, and never got the point. The Cappella is on very wet foundations, and in sections, water could be seen seeping into the timber panneling and the bases of the pews around the walls. In order to minimise the damage, the entire church has been sealed, and airconditioning and humidity controls installed. Hence the various glass rooms and corridors at the entrance.
What a stunning little chapel this is. Scrovegni built the chapel in 1303, to spare his dead father from spending eternity in hell for having been a userer. A shame modern bankers don't take note. Every surface, except a single row of pews around the three walls, is covered in frescoes painted by Giotto. Most have retained their vibrancy of colour, and it is claimed that these were the paintings that generated the development of European art from 1305, and the break from the Byzantine tradition. Around and behind the altar are wonderful early exercises in perspective art, with people appearing to be within arches beyond the first arch. So this is where it all started; a banker buys his way into heaven, and gives the impetus for the Renaissance.
Back into the heart of the old city, we stopped for lunch at Caffe Pedrocchi. Well, not quite lunch. They only serve drinks and cakes. The menu is 10 pages long. It has only recently been renovated. I mean renovated, not restored. It was first opened in 1831 and became famous as the caffee that never closed, open 24 hours a day, and the haunt of intelectuals and students. L30,000 for a coffee, mineral water and two slices of cake. That's a caffe. It was doing a roaring trade up until we arrived, as there were large groups of people celebrating graduation. We don't know how it works, and if it is only to celebrate doctorates as opposed to basic degrees, but by late June, when the schools and universities are on summer break, and it represents the end of the academic year, posters spring up in most towns. They are about 1 metre by 1 1/2 metres in size, and have a caricature of the student, and handwritten descriptions of their achievements and the nature of their degree. The students appear all dressed-up, wearing a huge laural wreath around their necks, and accompanied out of the University, into the streets and to the local cafes and restaurants by their friends and family. They gather in groups and make speeches. They sing/chant "dottore, dottore, etc" every five minutes or so. We witnessed this in Vicenza, Padua and Venice. Great to see public celebrations of achievements other than for sport.
Mary in Vellano had explained to us that while school hours may only be from 8.30 am to 1.00 pm., they are set at least two hours of homework, which is compulsory, and in most cases supervised by a parent during the 1.00 pm to 5.00 pm time when everything closes down. They only teach the basics of reading, writing, arithmatic, history, geography etc No inovative or experimental subjects or teaching methods. Learning by rote is what is important. I guess if you are studying Dante and Machievelli, from an early age, and your culture has its roots in ancient Greece and Rome, and the Renaissance, and you live in a community that is still passionate and proud about its heritage, you are off to a reasonable start.
Lucky for us, we were early at Palazzo del Bo, and managed to get tickets for the 2.15 tour. Unfortunately it was only in Italian, so we have no idea what they told us about the conference room we visited first. We think the gist of it was that the student sat at a chair in the middle of a circular arangement of tables, and was orally questioned. They still do that today for parts of medicine courses. The great dissapointment was that they wouldn't allow filming or photography of the anatomy theatre, and they didn't speek English, so I could't even plead a special case (I was wearing my Medical Society shirt). Fortunately, an Italian chap did a little translating for us.
The Anatomy Theatre was much smaller than I had expected. My expectations being based on a photograph in the Eyewitness Guide. Built entirely out of timber, it consists of ever larger circular viewing platforms, radiating up from the disection table. Each platform is only half a metre wide, and fronted by a low timber railing (more like a low fence). Access is via a circular spiral staircase around the outside. In much the same way as access to the Concert Hall at the Sydney Opera House, is via a staircase around the outside, with doors leading in to each level. Not only are their low doors into each level of the Anatomy Theatre, there are also ventilation windows that can be opened. Amazingly, they could accomodate up to 200 people, all standing jammed into this small space, on five or six levels. Bodies were so scarce, they had to benefit as many students as possible. The disecting table was in the middle of the bottom hole, and lit by lanterns or candles. Aparantly the church forbid disection, and infact most areas of scientific research/study, on the grounds that it was only God who should know thse things. An enlightened government in Padua passed laws overiding the Church, and hence it's major role as a University in the early stages of the renaissance. My favourite doctor, Gabriele Fallopio, was a lecturer here in the mid 1500's. How many of my quizz nights have featured the inventor of the condom (sheeps intestines), and the discoverer of the Fallopian Tube. It was here that Galileo outraged the church with his claim that the earth revolved around the sun, and that it wasn't the centre of the universe. Padua's laws protected him from the wrath of the church, but when Pisa poached him with the offer of more money, he was outside this protection, and excomunicated.
Leaving Padua was easier than arriving. In no time we were in the countryside and heading off into the Colli and Euganei hills. This alarmed Ches, as she was hot and tired, and just wanted to go home. I had decided upon a surprise detour. The hills are a loverly drive, and while we were only passing through them, we later learnt that there are many spar towns scattered throughout, and lots of pretty towns. I was heading down to Este, 20 km south of Barbarano, and then along the road for another 15 kms to Montagnana. This has to be one of the best kept secrets in Italy. It doesn't appear in any of the guide books. I only discovered it because someone had eroneously listed it on the internet, as being this fabulous walled town just south of Padua. It is in fact, 50 km to the south-west. While Lucca has the largest intact town walls, and they are vast and impressive, it is a large city and the walls were built in the late medieval/early renaisance period. Montagnana is a small town, in the middle of a vast plain, and the walls were built way back in medieval times. They are perfectly intact, including a wide but now shallow moat, and enormous double gateways with drawbridge towers at all four sides. Inside is a lage cental piazza, and the streets seem to run parallel to form a grid. You can drive in through one gate, cross the piazza and out the gate on the other side, all in the space of 500 metres or so. We did, in the course of filming and photographing the town and walls. Ches fell in love with the place and forgave me the long detour home.
Speaking of detours, I had also planned on driving through two towns near Montagnana, Polana Maggiore and Novent Vincentina, on the way back to Barbarano. Both are listed as having major Villas. We photographed the villa at Polana, as well as a castle being restored on the other side of the road, but could only locate a derelict Villa on the way through Noventa. Ches noted in her diary that she was sorry not to have had more time to explore Montagnana. We didn't. As if the day hadn't already been long enough, we had decided to attend a concert of Brandenburg Concertos being performed in the open air beside the theatre in Barbarano. It turned out to be an enjoyable evening. The perfomers were amateur, but very competent, and the only distraction/problem was that the wind picked up and played havock with their scores. At one stage they had to restart a piece when all their scores blew off their stands, and they concluded with four of the choir holding stands and sheets of paper down. I can only imagine what sort of a distraction it must be to be performing with the expectation that your music will blow away at any second. The anticipation of disaster must have been a distraction. I suspect they had people positioned at either end of the main street to stop vespas and motorbikes from intruding. Every now and then we could hear one take off away from town, so we assume they were taking the long way round, via Villaga. There must have been several hundred in the audience, most of the town. The downside were a number of items sung in German, by a choir and soloists. What ever could have posessed Bach in thinking that the German language could enhance his music.
