Eventually it was time to leave Cinqueterre and head onwards. Our next stop was Parma, which lies about 6o miles inland, over the range of coastal mountains.
We got there on a Trenord EMU, which took us on a smooth fast ride from La Spezia up through the coastal Alps and into the flatlands of Emilio Romagna.
Parma is a smallish city: very walkable, very cultured, and very chic. Toscanini was born here, and Verde grew up in a little village just outside of town. The opera tradition is very strong. The streets in the old town are all narrow and winding. Bicycles are the most common mode of transportation, followed by trolley busses, and of course motor scooters. I grumbled a little about the trolley wires complicating my photography. There were young people everywhere – it’s a college town – and they were impeccably, if occasionally impractically dressed.
Parma is of course where things “Parmesan” come from. We sampled cheese, and ham, and wine. The vendor down the street from our hotel posted a map of where his produce came from. We didn’t explore the large museums, of which there are several. We simply walked, and we napped – it was time for some down time.
In the evening, we walked around some more, and had an even better insight into how Italians spend their time. It seemed that no one goes home at quitting time. Instead, they head downtown, have a drink, and then have dinner, and then have another drink. The bar is full? No problem – just take your beverage out on the street. But be courteous when motorbikes come down the alleyway.
Thee were so many people lounging and playing and socializing under a rising moon. Even on a school night, the evening soccer game continued long after the streetlights came on. We stayed out as late as we could, but we were very tired tourists. Bedtime came far too early for a proper Italian lifestyle.
And then, it was on to Verona!
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Paul Cordingley 