There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence-banished is banish’d from the world,
And world’s exile is death…

Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Secene III

I was actually considering scraping Verona off the trip plan to add a couple of days in favor of extending my stay in either Paris or Amsterdam, but I am glad I didn’t. It was beautiful. The first night I stayed in a guest house that was unjustifiably expensive, then I moved to the beautiful Ostello Villa Francescatti, a converted 500-year old mansion with vaulted roofs, remains of the original frescos and a huge garden. I wasn’t into the fact that it was a HI hostel, becuase they usually have the stupid curfews and a dead, stale atmosphere. But this one is an exception.

Ostello Villa Francescatti from the outside

I loved Verona. It didn’t seem to be as intensely crowded with tourists as other places. I checked out the popular spots: Casa Julietta (house of Juliet), Gusti Gardens, the Verona Arena, which is the second largest Roman arena in the world..only smaller than the one in Rome. Actually, Verona itself is known as piccola Roma, or Little Rome. Just look at the pictures.

Casa di Giulietta (house of Juliet)

Legend has it that if you touch Juliet’s “heart”, you get lucky with love. I wanted to tell all the tourits that the heart is actually on the left side of the body, but I was busy taking pictures.

Graffiti covered walls at the house of Juliet. Can you feel the love?

The amazing Guisti Gardens

The Verona Arena

Did my obligatory two hour aimless walk, then I went back to the hostel to hang out with my dormroom inmates and watch the England Vs. Sweden game. 15 minutes into the game I got bored and went back out. The streets were queit and beautiful. I found a bar and spent the rest of the eveining with a wine carafe.
The following morning word in the hostel had it that there was a rail strike schedueled for today. Great. I wouldn’t have minded a couple more nights in Verona, and I was on a loose itinerary anyway with no advance bookings. But I decided to go down o the station and see if I can get a seat reservation to Trento. Turns out that the strike didn’t affect all trains and there was a train going to Trento in an hour. I had left my luggage back at the hostel to avoid lugging it all the way back the uphill hike to the hostel, so I retrieved my stuff, scrambled back to the station, getting there 10 minutes after the train was supposed to leave. Lucky Italian trains aren’t as punctual as their Swiss and German counterparts..train left 15 minutes late.

Trento is just an hour north by train anyway…I bet I could’ve walked to it.