Friday 15/Saturday 16 May
So it wasn't looking great but in the end I had a nice day in Mantua (Mantova in local lingo, like Padua becomes Padova), redeemed by the magnificent Palazzo Ducale which was a quite spectacular end to bimbling about in the cold, grey and wet.
The hotel ordered me a taxi to the station where there was a lengthy delay on the Mantua train and when a platform was announced, I had to share it with many over-excited school kids off on a day trip - and wherever I went in Mantova, there they were. Or maybe it was a different group. Further chaos ensued when there was a platform change which, owing to the noise of said youth, was communicated by word of mouth and crowd movement rather than a tannoy announcement. Thank goodness for the lifts I've been able to take advantage of on Italian stations where platforms are accessible via basement tunnels like Clapham Junction.
The rain was relentless when I reached Mantua but fortunately the hotel was across the road from the station - not that you could see it, as it was covered in scaffolding, with the reception accessible via a kind of tunnel. The lady on reception was helpful and welcoming and took me to my room - I had seen a photo, but it really was like a cell. The hotel dining room extension backed on to it and its glass roof made the sound of the rain even worse, so rather than dash out and get really wet I caught up on the blog.
Although I'd chosen accommodation that was close to the station, it wasn't that close to the old town so I had a 15-minute walk. It was lunchtime so I dived into the Miro caffe opposite the Duomo, which was full so the very handsome proprietor took me in the very tiny lift (cheap thrill) to the upper floor where I sat in splendid isolation under a surprisingly beautiful ceiling and had a very tasty piadina, followed by a trip to their very nasty stand-up loo in the basement (having had to wait for schoolkids using it - the lack of public loos in Italy makes life awkward for everyone).
The Duomo was very beautiful (as was the cathedral which I visited later, see the golden bishops below) with every surface above the dado (sure that's not the right word) was covered in frescoes or trompe l'oeil, with a gorgeous cupola. There was also a little ancient rotunda church
I walked some distance through the back streets to take a look at a restored synagogue I saw on the map, but when I got there it was shut and viewing was by appointment only. A food festival was starting up with tents in the main square, but it didn't appear to be getting going until the next day. I walked past the launch event in the town hall, where there was a plethora of carabinieri (most of them standing around smoking, chatting or scrolling through their phones) on hand - they were obviously expecting big trouble with the local populus without tickets and not on the list expected to gatecrash the foodie party.
I visited the Sonnabend art collection, which was very very modern, with the likes of Koons, Warhol, Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein. Some I liked, much I didn't - I still don't understand why Jeff Koons thought a child's blow-up dolphin swim toy needed to be suspended above a load of shiny saucepans. (The Warhol screen print is of the collecto, Ileana Sonnabend, who spent a great deal of time in the US patronising the arts)
A mid-afternoon gelato (accompanied by the schoolkids) made me understand the difference between artiginale and the common or garden. The latter contains preservative which enables it to be whipped into the attractive peaks you see. The good stuff is under steel lids so you just focus on the flavours - and you can actually notice the difference, really.
Last port of call before dinner was the Palazzo Ducale. I left it until the kids had disappeared (it was open until 7pm), and almost didn't go at all, but was so glad I did as it was stunning. It contains the main collection of ancient statues, bas-relief sculptures, frescoes and tapestries from medieval to post-Renaissance times in northern Italy, accumulated by the Gonzaga dynasty who ruled the dukedom of Mantua for nearly 400 years, from 1328 until the Austrian empire swallowed it up in the early 18th century. Their wealth (they even minted their own coins for most of that time) must have been enormous, although there must have been a dip in cashflow at some point as part of the collection of Roman busts (see below) was acquired by Charles I of England - though obviously that didn't go too well for him...
The condition of the works was amazing - yes of course there was a nose, arm or breast missing here and there, but the idea that these pieces were so very old and still here was astonishing. I was especially impressed by the 11 Caesars painted on canvas by Titian (I've included the most handsome one below - some of them were chubby mingers I can tell you!), and the 64m long gallery of Roman busts including all your faves like Claudius and Marcus Aurelius, as well as Ignoti and Ignote (unknown men and women). The Roman bust gallery collection was completed in 1600 - as mentioned, Charles I of England acquired some of it but it all came back.
There's also a very fine coin collection over 2000 years, including those minted by the Gorganzas. In the Museo, there were crystals, fossils, shells and paeleontological remains, bones, eggs, stuffed animals and birds, displayed in four rooms known as the Metamorphoses. On to the Ducal apartments with stuccoed ceilings, frescoes and huge portraits. Even the corridors are beautiful. The wealth displayed is incredible, but unlike an English stately home, you won't find any furniture and very few objects, but somehow that didn't matter - my jaw remained dropped for quite a substantial part of my visit.
Settling on a dinner venue was a bit challenging as a lot of restaurants weren't opening until 7.30 which I know isn't that late by Italian standards - but I made a good decision and settled for the Scaravelli ristorante, a brand with a big presence in the town with a bakery and caffe opposite. I had a delicious beef stew macaroni, a chocolate mousse and some nice light Bardolino - and unlike other places in Bologna later in my trip, I was welcomed and served in prompt and friendly fashion...
The following morning, I had time to kill until my train back to Verona and then on to Bologna (be warned if you decide to visit Mantua - there's a big mid-morning gap with trains either way to and from Verona, which is a kind of branch line). I paid a bit extra to have breakfast as there wasn't much round about the area, but had a near-death experience when the sizeable vitamin pill I was trying to take surreptitiously with my juice so as not to draw attention to my slightly embarrassing multiple vitamin/supplement daily routine, got caught in my throat. What's Italian for Heimlich manoeuvre? No juice, swallowing or quiet coughing was dislodging the miscreant, so I hurried back to my room and after much effort and disgusting noises returned to my breakfast and tried to appear as though nothing had happened.
I had decided to visit Palazzo Te, about a 20-minute walk away, set in acres of parkland and one of Mantua's big attractions. Also conceived and built by one of the Gorganza dynasty, after the Palazzo Ducale its scope and ambition was still impressive but somehow not so thrilling. Designed by Guido Romano, it was intended to be a kind of Utopia outside the city walls, a place for hunting, shooting, fishing and general bohemian pursuits. Again, lots of freschos, mosaics, lunettes and bas-relief sculptures, and a Chamber of Giants with frescoes of figures ten times human size - but to my surprise, when I looked closely, scratched everywhere with graffiti. There's even a room featuring horse frescoes that also served as the stable block. However, as you can see I didn't take that many pictures as I didn't feel so inspired - in fact my favourite bit was probably the Secret Garden with its grotto, and the inference that people would hide themselves away in its apartment for a dirty weekend back in the day.
Back to the hotel to pick up by bags, haul them across the road to the station to catch a train back to Verona where I ate bad pizza during a lengthy wait before getting on a delayed Frecciarossa (nice trains, shame about the bloody steps when you have luggage! the Regionale trains have low and high levels!) to Bologna, arriving at little after 4pm, and where the Stazione Centrale is proudly announcing the prossimo aperto of a Pret a Manger...
I'm writing this before leaving Bologna in the morning for my train to Milan and the flight home. Last instalment will follow once I'm back in Blighty...
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