When visiting an Italian city, there’s a certain progression to the day that we aim for. It goes more or less like this:
9am coffee & pastry
10am coffee
11am coffee
1pm lunch
T̶w̶o̶ One p̶e̶r̶p̶e̶t̶u̶a̶l̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶a̶t̶s̶ immigrant settling into home country number five.
When visiting an Italian city, there’s a certain progression to the day that we aim for. It goes more or less like this:
9am coffee & pastry
10am coffee
11am coffee
1pm lunch
We have some good friends who live in Padua (Padova), so we like to stop by every time we’re in the area (“the area” basically referring to the Veneto, the region of Italy around Venice). It’s a gorgeous city, full of narrow porticoed streets, cathedrals, bustling squares, and humiliated graduates.
On our recent trip to the Dolomites, we mainly kept close to the adorable cabin where we were staying, but we did venture out to explore some neighboring towns in Veneto on a couple of occasions.
After filling up on the artsy type of culture in Padua, Ali and I hopped on a train and headed to Vicenza for an afternoon of passegiate, aperitivi, and shopping, all of which also clearly qualify as cultural activities in Italy. Vicenza is a small city whose center is a large walking district of narrow … Read more
OK, so where was I? A couple weeks ago I spent a few days in Italy, staying at my favorite hotel and spa in the whole world (which has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the manager is a good friend of mine, I swear), which is in a small town just outside of Padua (Padova). I can’t go to Padua without feeling an intense urge to move back to Italy, and this trip was no different. It’s just so…. Italian. The cobblestones, the cathedrals, the art, the public humiliation of graduates… and of course the food. Why am I not there right now?
Walking around Padua (Padova in Italian) last week, Ali and I happened across the graduation celebrations of a few university students. The first indication that something was up this day were the big signs plastered up along one side of a piazza. These each displayed a crude caricature of one of the graduates, along with a long and detailed narrative written by the grad’s so-called friends.
After spending a long weekend in Milan with Scott and our friends, I headed off alone to visit a friend in Abano Terme, a small spa town near Padua (Padova in Italian). Abano is relatively new for an Italian town, as it was mainly built up in the 50s and 60s, when having oneself wrapped in mud was the hip thing to do.
My friend happens to own one of the many spa hotels in the town, the Hotel Universal Terme. It’s a grand, old-fashioned place that makes you feel like you’ve gone back in time from the second you walk through the door (this is what the clients want, he tells me).