Bryce & Damon in Europe

by Pertinax Carrus

Chapter 13, Along the Po Valley

Milan

            Departing Lucerne, Bryce and Damon traveled around the southern edges of Lake Lucerne, through the cantons of Unterwalden and Uri, reaching the watershed of the Alps, the place from which everything flows north on one side, and south on the other.  There, at the St. Gotthard Pass, the highway E-9 passes through a tunnel under the watershed.  When they emerged on the other side, they were in a sunny clime and an Italian speaking area, but not yet in Italy.  They were in the canton of Ticino, conquered by the Swiss from the Duchy of Milan in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and a self-governing canton since the early nineteenth century.  They passed through the town of Como, sited on the southern tip of the beautiful alpine lake of the same name, and then, leaving alpine landscapes, entered the Lombard plain and made their way to Milan, or Milano in Italian.

            Bryce was driving as they entered the large city, the second largest in Italy with a population of 1.35 million within the city boundaries, and over five million in the urban area.  Their goal was the Hotel Canada on the Via Santa Sofia, located south of the center of town.  The description of this hotel seemed to fit the needs of the two travelers, being less expensive and luxurious than what the Winslow family was used to when traveling, but more comfortable than a typical student lodging.  The Via Santa Sofia was part of a series of streets which followed the old city walls in a circle around the center of town.  The hotel provides free WiFi in the room, with parking at a nearby location for 18 Euros per day.  It does offer breakfast, and check-in began at 2:00 in the afternoon, so the guys could get started on their visit right away.

            After checking in and parking the car, they took off on foot for the roughly half mile walk to the Milan cathedral.  Construction began in 1386 on this immense Gothic building under the leadership of Archbishop Antonio da Saluzzo and his cousin, the ruler of the city, Gian-Galeazzo Visconti (1351-1402).  The Visconti family, somewhat like the Medici in Florence, were successful in seizing power in the volatile political atmosphere of late medieval and Renaissance Italy, and ruling for a century and a half, to be succeeded by the Sforza.  In 1395 Gian-Galeazzo more or less legitimized his rule by purchasing the title of Duke of Milan from the besotted Emperor Wenceslaus.  It was not until 1577 that work on the cathedral was far enough along that it could be officially dedicated by Archbishop St. Carlo Borromeo (1538-84).  When Napoleon Bonaparte declared himself King of Italy in 1805, bringing an end to the Cisalpine Republic just as he did to the French Republic by declaring himself Emperor of the French, he ordered the cathedral completed so he could be crowned there, and so, after many centuries, the essential fabric was completed, although some work continued for another half century. Having been constructed over many centuries, the cathedral lacks unity, and can best be described as Gothic eclectic.  The most famous monument in the cathedral is the statue of St. Bartholomew flayed, carrying his skin, not one of the more pleasant sights, although the guys would encounter it again in Michelangelo’s “Last Judgement” in the Sistine Chapel.

            They did not spend a great deal of time in the cathedral, but left heading north through the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele II, the first shopping mall in Italy, dating to 1865-77 and named for the first king of united Italy.  There, they indulged in a cup of cappuccino and a pastry at the Biffi Café before continuing through the Galleria.  On the north side they came to La Scala Opera House, but had no tickets for a performance.  Bryce had looked into the possibilities before leaving home, but the orchestra and performers were having a dispute with the management of the company, and he was not certain anything would be available.  It was also late in the season, and the main company would be on tour if they were working at all.  Hence, he and Damon continued to the northwest, where they went past the Castello Sforzesco, heading west to the Dominican Friary of Santa Maria delle Grazie.  There, during the 1490s, Leonardo painted the famous “Last Supper” in the refectory of the convent, depicting the moment in St. John’s Gospel when Jesus said to his apostles, “One of you will betray me.”  The agitation of the apostles is patent in the work of art.  A major, twenty-year long restoration was completed in 1999, which restored much of the beauty which had been lost to pollution and botched previous restoration attempts, but primarily to Leonardo’s experimentation with a painting method which flaked easily.

            “This is the work that The Da Vinci Code says contains a secret message, right?” Damon said.

            “Right.  That book and several others.  All a lot of bullshit, trying to make money for the authors.  No serious historian or art historian takes that stuff seriously,” Bryce replied.

            “But the author – what’s his name? – some color, wasn’t it?  Black? ...”

            “Brown.  Dan Brown,” Bryce supplied.

            “Yeah, Dan Brown – he says that figure on Jesus’ right is a woman, right?  Well, he doesn’t have a beard, but he doesn’t have any boobs, either,” Damon remarked.

            “That’s supposed to be St. John, and tradition says he was the youngest of the apostles, maybe twenty or so at the time of the last supper.  He lived until around the year 100,” Bryce noted.

            “How come it needed so much restoration?  It says here ... oh wait, here’s the answer right in this brochure.  So, this dude Leonardo liked to experiment and was using a kind of paint called tempera and painting on a dry wall, not on fresh plaster.  Painting on wet plaster is called fresco, right?  Why didn’t he use that more permanent kind of work?” Damon wondered.

            “All I can think of is once you start fresco, you can’t go back and change anything.  As I understand it, Leonardo was never satisfied with his work, so he probably wanted to leave open the possibility of going back and changing something,” Bryce speculated.

            “Then why didn’t he?  It says here the painting began to flake only a few years after it was finished,” Damon pointed out.

            “Well, if I remember correctly, the French conquered Milan in 1499, and Leonardo left town and returned to his native Florence.  I know he was in Florence when he began the “Mona Lisa” a few years later,” Bryce reasoned.

            “Makes sense,” Damon agreed.

            Having seen the most famous work in Milan, the guys retraced their steps a bit, and stopped at the Castello.  This forbidding fortress was constructed by the first Duke of Milan of the Sforza family, Francesco, who had been a successful mercenary captain who seized power in 1450 after the Viscontis died out in the male line.  Francesco’s wife was an illegitimate daughter of the last Visconti duke, which gave him as good a claim as most, and his troops gave him an even better one.  The official propaganda says it was built to protect the city against outside enemies, but Bryce and Damon concluded that it was more likely intended to overawe the Milanese and prevent a revolt.  As the historian Jacob Burckhardt pointed out in his seminal study The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy of 1860, those who achieve power by illegitimate means must constantly be on guard against someone stronger attempting to do the same.  Inside was a museum, the most interesting part of which, the guys found, was the collection of musical instruments on the first floor (European style).

            By the time they completed their tour of the Castello Sforzesco, it was well into the evening, and both Bryce and Damon were thinking of food.  Despite their desperation, they decided to retrace most of their steps of the day, and seek out the university area to the northeast of their hotel.  They figured there would be acceptable places there, and they might encounter someone interesting.  Sure enough, not far from the Piazza Santo Stefano they found a nice looking place which seemed to cater to the university crowd.  They were able to order a full meal, including some wonderful pasta and Lambrusco wine, for a reasonable price.

            As they sat, they were approached by a young man, who politely asked whether they were Americans.  Admitting to their citizenship, they were then asked if they would mind if he joined them.  Agreeing, they soon found themselves in conversation with Paolo Rinaldi, who was, indeed, a student at the university majoring in International Relations, so he was particularly interested in talking to Damon.  The University of Milan is a large institution, with about 65,000 students.  Paolo explained that his institution was usually called “Statale,” or the state university, to distinguish it from a variety of private institutions in the city.  Although ranked as the best in Italy, and one of the best in Europe, the University of Milan is not one of the older institutions of higher learning in Italy, dating only to the early twentieth century (1924).  It boasted an entire School of Political Science, so, for a change, Bryce sat back and allowed his partner to bear the greater part of the conversational burden.  They enjoyed speaking with Paolo so much that they spent several hours there, and ended up exchanging e-mail addresses.  Damon promised to keep in touch after he returned home to Clifton.  But, as they had a busy day scheduled tomorrow, they reluctantly said “ciao” to Paolo and returned to their hotel for the night.

            The Hotel Canada provided a great and free (i.e., included in the room price) breakfast, which the guys helped themselves to before taking off the next morning for Turin.

Turin

            On Thursday morning the two guys checked out of their hotel and were on the road again, this time with a complex schedule.  They were headed first to the west, to Turin, but for one purpose only: to visit the Chapel of the Holy Shroud.  On the hour and a half drive, Bryce explained to Damon something about this relic.  It is believed to be the burial shroud of Jesus, preserved in Jerusalem, then at Constantinople, like the Crown of Thorns.  Then, with the capture of the city by the disgraceful Fourth Crusade, it passed into the hands of the Knights Templar until their suppression in 1312, when it was kept in several places in France until it passed into the hands of the Dukes of Savoy a generation later.  At first, it was kept in their residence city of Chambery, in what is now France, but in 1578 it was moved to Turin, as the headquarters of the dukes likewise moved across the Alps after being threatened by the French too often.  There it has been ever since.  Earlier in 2010, from 10 April to 23 May, there was a grand exposition, during which the shroud was exhibited to the public for the eighteenth time since its establishment in Turin, but now it was too late for that, so they could not see the shroud itself, but only videos and reproductions.

            Over the past century, the Shroud of Turin has been subjected to a multitude of tests to determine its authenticity.  On the whole, it has withstood the scrutiny pretty well.  Some of the investigations have attempted to undermine the authenticity of the relic, but in each case the argument put forward has been shown to be incomplete or based on only partial evidence or has been later disproven in some manner.  On the other hand, those which support the authenticity, while never one hundred percent complete, have withstood the efforts of skeptics to poke holes in them.  For example, in 1989 Drs. Hall and Tite proclaimed at a conference on radio carbon dating that the shroud dated to between 1260 and 1390.  Since then, several studies have shown that this analysis was badly flawed in more than one way, but the skeptics still cite it as scientific evidence that the shroud is a fraud.  Ten years later, an analysis of the pollen taken from the shroud proved pretty conclusively that it contained pollen from plants found in the area of Jerusalem in April and May, and that other factors showed the shroud to date from before the year 700.  This analysis was carried out by Avinoam Danin, a botanist at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, hardly a toady of the Vatican, as some intimated.  Among the pollen were specimen from the thistle Gundelia tournefortii, which may have been the source of the Crown of Thorns.  Dr. Danin also analyzed what appear to be bloodstains, and concluded that they were, indeed, bloodstains of type AB, a rare type.  In that same year, Dr. Leonero A. Garza-Valdes, a Texas physician, published the results of his studies in a book entitled The DNA of God.  Pulling together information from several sources, along with his own studies, he concluded that not only were the bloodstains type AB, but that type was more prevalent in Jews from northern Palestine (Galilee) than anywhere else.   He also found the indications on the shroud consistent with whipping across the back, some kind of piercing on the brow, holes in the hands and feet, and piercing of the side, all consistent with the Gospel story.  Those who seek to dismiss this evidence cling to the minute possibilities that some other explanation might present.  Well, no scientific data is one hundred percent foolproof.  Surely, no one today seriously doubts that the earth circles the sun, not vice versa, but there is that fraction of a percentage point possibility that we might be wrong.  It’s kind of like Fatima, or Michael Grant writing about St. Peter.  They’ve made up their minds, and no amount of evidence will convince them.  Of course, even if there were absolutely undeniable evidence that this was the burial shroud of Jesus, that does not prove that he was the Son of God and the Savior of Humanity proclaimed by the Church.  But nothing in the scientific evidence disproves anything taught by the Church, either.

            In Turin, the travelers approached the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, which was constructed in what for the time was the amazing period of only seven years, completed in 1498.  In a separate chapel the Holy Shroud is preserved in a special hermetically sealed container.  Prior to entering the chapel, there is an anteroom, where a video about the shroud and the recent exposition was shown to visitors.  Then they entered the chapel, constructed by the Baroque architect Guarino Guarini between 1668 and 1694, where there was opportunity to pray before the reliquary containing the shroud.  Bryce and Damon prayed to the God-Man who most likely was buried in this cloth nearly two thousand years previously.  Bryce prayed for his partner and for a safe completion of their pilgrimage.  Damon was less specific.  “God, I know you’re there somewhere.  I don’t know what to make of all this.  Ever since I came to believe in you back at Lourdes, I’ve been confused.  I’m trying to be open to guidance, like Bryce says, but you’re not giving me much to go on.  Come on, make it a little easier, please.”

            After their visit to the Chapel of the Holy Shroud, the guys found a place for lunch, and then headed back in an eastward direction.

Verona

            For the next three and a half hours, they traveled east on the A-5 Autostrada, passing north of Milan, past Bergamo and Brescia and the southern shore of Lake Garda, to arrive in Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet.  As they approached their destination with Bryce driving, he mentioned, “Although like all Italy Verona is more or less Catholic, this is another place which has no specific Catholic association.  At least, not for me.”

            “Then why are we staying here?” Damon asked.

            “Well, other than what I expect to be a great dinner, two reasons, basically.  One, I really liked it here when I visited with my family, and I think you will, too.  And, two, just as with Heidelberg, it’s a romantic place.  Verona is the city of Romeo and Juliet, and even if they were straight and we’re not, love is love, I guess.  There are only two things I especially want to see here.  One is the Roman amphitheater, the other is the reputed house of Juliet,” Bryce replied.

            Damon chuckled.  “You really are a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

            “I guess I have to plead guilty to that,” Bryce admitted.

            They had reservations at the Hotel Torcolo, obviously Bryce’s selection, as it was located right in the center of town, and was not part of a major chain.  One of the items it advertised was that the rooms were individually furnished, which meant that they were not all alike, furnished from some mass producer, but each unique.  There was free (meaning included in the room charge) WiFi in all rooms, but, as was true in most European hotels, especially those in the older parts of town, parking was a separate charge.  Bryce had also specified when making reservations that they wanted a room with a double bed, not two singles.  After checking in, the two adventurers went in search of ... what else? ... adventure.

            Only a short distance from the hotel was the arena, the name by which the Roman amphitheater in Verona is known.  It is located in the Piazza Bra, which probably doesn’t mean much to the Italians, but inevitably evokes snickers from American tourists.  Built in about 30 A.D., the arena can accommodate up to 30,000 spectators, which it has done on occasion.  Ever since the Renaissance, it has been used for a variety of performances, including opera and pop concerts.  Only a few weeks prior to the visit by Bryce and Damon, it was the setting for the distribution of prizes for the Giro d’Italia, a bicycle race held each year, except during World Wars I and II, since 1909.  This year, the race began in Amsterdam and ended in Verona.  Although impressive enough, Bryce knew that the present structure lacks the original marble outer coating and the original third tier of seats.  From the arena, the guys walked to the Porta Borsari, one of the gates of the original Roman walls, dating to about 245 A.D.  By then, danger from outlaws and barbarians necessitated the construction of town walls all over the Empire.

            Returning to the center of town, Bryce led Damon to what is called the Casa di Giulietta, or Juliet’s House.  There was an authentic late medieval house, with a real balcony in a real garden.  It didn’t look like Romeo could climb up to the balcony, as he did in Zeffirelli’s award winning film version of 1968, but Shakespeare’s text does not require climbing.  In the garden, Bryce managed to get Damon away from other tourists long enough for a brief, but very intense kiss, which, he was glad to note, surprised his boyfriend.  After visiting the house and garden, as they exited both left notes on a board next to the entrance.  In the past, people inscribed their names and messages on the wall itself, but that got to be a real problem, both aesthetically and structurally, and so is now discouraged, not entirely successfully.

            Leaving the Casa di Guilietta, they made their way to the Piazza delle Erbe, or vegetable market, constructed at the orders of the della Scala family, who ruled Verona as signori, or lords during the late medieval and early Renaissance period, before the city was absorbed into the territory of the Republic of Venice.  One such signore, Can Grande, was the model for Shakespeare’s Prince.  It was true to history that Italian towns in those days were riddled by feuds among the leading families, such as the Montagues and Capulets, and citizens turned to strong men like the Prince to keep a semblance of order.  That scenario has repeated itself throughout history, from the Romans accepting Caesar Augustus to the English accepting Henry Tudor, the French accepting Napoleon Bonaparte, and, unfortunately, the Germans accepting Adolf Hitler.  The cost of anarchy is the loss of freedom.

            In the Piazza delle Erbe, Bryce led them toward the Ristorante Maffei at one end of the square, where he had made reservations before they ever left the United States.  He intended to make this one of those unforgettable experiences, an outstanding high on their itinerary.  As they arrived, and Bryce gave his name, he was greeted with pleasure, the maitre d’ asking about his parents and commenting on their generosity on their last visit.  While this was very pleasant, it also served as a hint that a similar generosity was anticipated this evening.  They began with wine and an appetizer ordered from the four-language menu, for which they chose Scrigno di verdure e Monte Veronese su crema di pomodoro, translated into English on the menu as Casket of vegetables and Monte Veronese on tomato cream.  Damon commented with a chuckle that he was a bit skeptical of anything serve in a casket.  Bryce mentioned that Monte Veronese was a kind of cheese, and mentioned that the Italian word for tomato - pomodoro - literally was ‘apple of gold.’  Languages are interesting.  The antipasto was followed by the pasta, for which Bryce chose Tortelloni ripiendi di ricotta e tartufo su sautè di funghi e porcini (translated on the menu as ‘Tortelloni stuffed with ricotta and truffle on porcini mushrooms sautéed’), and Damon selected Maccheroncini artigianali con ragout dimaialino e radicchio brasato su crema al formaggio briè (given as ‘Handmade macceroncini with young pig and braised radicchio on brie cheese cream’).  Damon commented that he could make no more sense out of the English than out of the Italian, but he would be adventuresome.  When it came, he figured out that to the Italians what we call sauce is cream - ‘crema’.  To Damon’s surprise, there was another course, which was called the main course.  “You’re trying to kill me by making me overeat,” he complained.  Bryce responded, “You can just sit and watch me eat if you want.”  He didn’t want.  Bryce chose a seafood dish with Triangoli di rombo su crema di funghi misti e meline grigliate don grattugiata di tartufo (Triangles of turbot on mushrooms cream and grilled Meline (mushrooms) with grated truffle and mignon vegetables), while Damon selected Carrè di agnello New Zeland con panure al pistacchio, patate al forno e catalogna (Carrè of lamb from New Zealand with aromatic panure pistachio, potatoes and bitter chicory).  Damon said he figured out the New Zealand part with no trouble, and he had discovered in France that he liked lamb.  It turned out that “carrè” meant “curry,” which he found spicy but very good.  Finally, after all that, came dessert, a word which evidently did not need translating, as that page of the menu had only the one word at the top.  Bryce chose Tortino soffice di ciocolato fondente con gelato al pistacchio (Warm dark chocolate torte and our house-made pistachio ice-cream), while Damon decided on Mousse all’arancia e lamponi su biscottodi pasta frolla (Orange and raspberry mousse on shortbread biscuit).  This was accompanied by black coffee for digestion, which was then followed by Bryce’s favorite Bourbon and Sprite.  He explained that it should have been brandy, but he preferred Bourbon.  Damon was in no mood to complain.

            By the time they left the restaurant, it was dark.  Fortunately, their hotel was not far away.  They made their way back to their room.

            “Now that you have laid the trap, and thoroughly seduced me, what do you have in mind for next?” Damon asked.

            “Just you wait.  I think you’ll like it,” Bryce replied.

            “Which of us is Juliet?” Damon joked.

            “I’m not interested in Juliet, but as I recall Romeo had a nice ass in the movie,” Bryce commented, “and so do you,” he added, squeezing Damon’s named attribute.

            What followed was not quite as good as the love-making in Lourdes, but it came very close, and left both guys exhausted.  Neither was very happy when Bryce’s insistent travel alarm went off the next morning.

Padua

            It was only about an hour’s drive from Verona to Padua, where they would stay only a few hours and have lunch.  The first item on Bryce’s itinerary was the church of St. Anthony.  He reminded Damon that they had visited the church which marked his birthplace in Lisbon.  Here in Padua was his death place.  Although a large church, and the most visited in Padua, the Basilica of St. Anthony is not the cathedral of the city.  Begun in 1232, only a year after the death of the beloved saint, the church was completed in 1301.  A separate chapel contained the body of the saint, with other relics kept in the treasury chapel.  All over the world, St. Anthony is invoked to assist in finding lost articles, and even lost faith.  Also of interest in the church is the tomb of Gattamelata, one of the most famous and successful condotteri, or mercenary captains, of Renaissance Italy.  Outside, on the piazza in front of the church, is the famed equestrian statue of him by the Florentine sculptor Donatello (not the ninja turtle) dating to 1453, the first successful full-sized equestrian bronze since antiquity.

            From the Basilica of St. Anthony it was only a short walk to the second monument which Bryce wanted to share with Damon, the series of 78 statues of famed citizens of Padua in two elliptical rings located on the Prato della Valle, a park-like ellipse of nearly a thousand square feet.  The whole is surrounded by a small moat.  Those thus celebrated range from the Roman historian Titus Livius to the Renaissance poets Ludovico Ariosto and Torquato Tasso to the painter Andrea Mantegna.  Included were four popes, Eugene IV, Paul II, Alexander VIII, and Clement XIII.  A name Damon recognized was that of the Romantic sculptor Antonio Canova, whom they had encountered at the Louvre, while Bryce noted the historian Francesco Guicciardini.  Undoubtedly the most well-known name in the lot, however, is that of Galileo Galilei, the Florentine mathematician who taught at Padua while making some of his most significant discoveries.  Padua has one of the most famous universities in Italy – in fact, in all Europe, noted for its scientific discoveries and its school of medicine for centuries.  The university was officially founded in 1222 on less official earlier foundations, and today has about 65,000 students.

pertinax.carrus@gmail.com