David Whitley pokes his nose under the porticos, and finds plenty of oddities in Italy’s Red City.
Bologna’s many options
If there is one cast iron, golden rule of travel, it is as follows: When there is an exhibition advertised by a picture of a frog in a top hat, you go in. And the fact that you haven’t a clue what it’s about is totally irrelevant.
To be fair, such ingenious gimmicks are needed in a city like Bologna. Piazza Maggiore, the city’s major hub, has promotional banners all over the place heralding various events, shows and installations.
A quick scan round brings promises of Charlie Chaplin, Indiana Jones-style archaeology, a history festival, the future of the web and the season of opera and ballet. Throw in some chest-thumping boasts of being the UNESCO City of Music, and there’s an awful lot going on. But only Bologna Si Sposa has a comical yet dapper amphibian, so that wins.
Palazzo Del Re Enzo
The exhibition is in the Palazzo Del Re Enzo, right in the centre of Piazza Maggiore. It is one of many hugely impressive red brick buildings in the immediate vicinity that manage to combine grandeur with gutsy no-nonsense.
And, from a balcony, the DJ is pumping out Barry White as loud as possible.
It turns out, after paying the entrance fee and getting more than a few quizzical looks, that it is a wedding expo.
A rather upmarket one too, with representatives of wildly expensive country retreats in amongst the photographers and dressmakers.
Sauntering through, there’s a woman plucking a harp and a clarinet trio doing their thing, but it’s the building that really grabs the attention.
In any other city, an expo like this would be held in a sleekly-designed, purpose-built exhibition centre, probably on the outskirts of town. In Bologna, they hold it in a palace. And if someone else needs to do a big carpet sale or host a trade fair, then no problem – there are plenty more fabulous old buildings to go around.
Jakob Burckhardt on Bologna
It’s difficult not to agree with Renaissance historian Jakob Burckhardt. He argued: “Considering individual buildings, there are four or five cities [in Italy] preceding Bologna, but it is and remains the most beautiful Italian city judged as a whole.”
They’re a few years late, but the chaps at Lonely Planet appear to have worked out much the same thing. In their newly-released Blue List, which highlights 2008’s coolest must-see destinations, Bologna is a surprise entry alongside the usual untouched corners of exotic rainforests.
Porticoes
To get an idea of why, it’s necessary to take a stroll away from the main square. To the north is Via dell’Indipendenza, a grand arterial route leading towards the train station, and towards the university in the north-east is Via Zamboni. Both are lined with what may as well be Bologna’s trademark – porticoes.
Originally designed as a way of cramming more people into narrow streets, buildings had their upper floors extended to overhang the pavements, supported by pillars and arches.
The ruse was such a success that they sprang up all over the city, to the extent that the city has 38 kilometres worth of such arcades. This makes it the most porticoed city in the world. Granted, it’s hardly a section of Guinness World Records that most people flick to instantly upon buying the book, but it’s a far more impressive stat when you see the effect with your own eyes.
Shopping in Bologna
The most obvious boon is that it doesn’t matter if it’s raining, snowing or roasting – the arcades act as both shelter and shade.
The second is that they add that air of mystery. Shopping is a completely different experience when shop fronts and the blazing signs that usually accompany them are hidden. You have to investigate; things only become clear when you’re a few yards away from them.
You may see the sports store or the pizzeria, but you can’t see the little man roasting chestnuts across the junction or the spiritual school down the street until you actually go up and look.
When the porticoes break off for large open spaces, they are filled with structures designed to wow. Towers, palaces, basilicas, Roman gates… Bologna seems to more than its fair share of all of them. The cumulative effect – especially when walking up to the university – is spectacular.
Bologna University alumni
The uni, of course, gives the town a large part of its flavour and has done so for nearly a thousand years. Founded in 1088, it is the oldest university in Europe and can count the likes of Dante Aligheri, Nicolaus Copernicus and Umberto Eco amongst its alumni.
Its students have been perennially regarded as troublemakers, either making mischief for the church or the state, and it comes as no surprise to learn that the city is traditionally a Communist heartland.
The Red City
Indeed, the amount of Che Guevara merchandise in the shops and odd scrawl of graffiti confirm this. In Italy, Bologna is known as the Red City, and it’s not just about the brickwork in Piazza Maggiore.
It’s in the student area that most life can be found.
The little bars, cafés and pubs (yes, the Italians can do pubs when they feel like it) all have that frisson of excitement about them. Even on a quiet Sunday or Tuesday evening, there’s an undeniably perky vibe, as bright young things conduct verbal foreplay over a drink or a meal.
Not spaghetti Bolognese, mind… ironically for the city in which the classic student dish was invented, no-one will serve it. They prefer to use tagliatelle and call the sauce ragù.
Palazzo Poggi
As with the rest of the city, it pays to be nosy around the university. Through a not particularly prominent doorway in the Palazzo Poggi is a thoroughly bizarre collection of oddities. These include possibly the most disturbing room on earth.
The grandly-titled Museum of Obstetrics has its walls covered in glass cabinets, and within these is uterus after uterus. The models all demonstrate childbirth complications, and they were designed as a teaching aid by someone with far too much time on his hands. One of them would be mildly freaky, but hundreds of them in the same room is enough to induce recurring nightmares.
It doesn’t help that the other rooms around it (all separate museums, it seems) appear to be the brainchild of someone who eats far too much cheese.
There’s a trippy monument to Sir Isaac Newton to offset ostrich eggs and waxwork eyeballs glaring through the dim light. But before taking to the corner and rocking back and forth, it’s worth looking up. They’re not immediately obvious when fighting elephant tusks and skinned humans for attention, but at the tops of the walls are a series of fresco paintings.
Anywhere else, they’d be the star attraction, but here they’re buried away matter-of-factly. In Bologna, as it has been for nearly a millennium, those who seek shall find.
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