David Whitley gets a taste of various European influences in Italy’s laid-back frontier city.
Basilica di San Giusto
Looking carefully at the walls of the Basilica di San Giusto, there is something not quite right. A couple of smooth, rounded protrudences jut out, clearly not an intended part of the architecture.
They are, it turns out, cannonballs. When the Napoleonic French troops held out in Trieste back in 1813, they hid away in the cathedral while English ships let rip with a fearful pounding from the Adriatic Sea.
Nobody ever got round to properly removing the debris – remnants can also be found lodged in the walls of the theatre in town.
Trieste’s multinational past
In a way, the basilica sums up Trieste nicely. The English tried to take it from the French, whilst inside its chapel, there are nine tombs belonging to members of the Spanish royal family. It is technically an Italian city, but you’d hardly know it.
Many Italians think that Trieste is part of Yugoslavia, and those who actually paid attention to the break up of the Balkans would be hard pressed to decide whether it’s in Slovenia or Croatia. One look at the map, and it’s not hard to see why – Trieste is at the end of a pinky finger jutting out of the Italian mainland.
Vienna’s key port
For much of its history, Trieste has been under Austrian rule, acting as the key port for the empire ruled from Vienna. Not until the end of the Second World War did it become Italian, and even then not for long.
The Germans occupied the city during World War II, and was liberated almost simultaneously by Yugoslavs and New Zealanders.
It then became a free territory administered by British and American forces from 1947 to 1953, largely in a bid to dissuade the avaricious attention of Josef Tito from across the Yugoslav border.
Piazza San Nuovo
Given this multi-national past, the scene in the bar on Piazza San Nuovo shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. A Japanese tour group has just been rushed inside to avoid a sudden downpour, while an Irishman and an American – working for an Anglo-Dutch oil company – argue over a German beer. Trieste is that sort of city.
Triestini
Nor should it come as much of a shock to learn that the locals don’t really show any patriotic affinity to their region, Friuli-Venezia Guilia, let alone to Italy as a whole. They are, first and foremost, Triestini; a wonderfully vague term that is used to encompass all manner of character traits, personality types and quirks.
Some things are done resolutely differently. Pork and boiled meat-heavy buffets and caffés take precedence over restaurants, while a cappuccino in these parts means an espresso with a dash of milk. It’s best not to question the logic – it’s just the way it is.
Friuli-Venezia Guilia
The rest of the region tends to regard the Trieste with a little bit of suspicion. Until the city was welded onto Friuli-Venezia Guilia, Udine was the biggest city and the centre of power. Not anymore.
And to make it worse, authority is now in the hands of the Triestini, those notorious layabouts with something of a reputation for preferring to kick back, relax, go to the theatre and indulge in leisurely pursuits rather than knuckle down and do some hard work.
It would be rather easy to surmise that no-one is exactly busting a gut in Trieste – it’s the birthplace of confetti, for heaven’s sake – and that’s part of its charm.
City of Writers
The city is blessed with a cultural scene that competes with any in the country, and for a city of just over 200,000 people, that is no mean feat. It is known as the City of Writers, and has played host to the likes of Italo Svevo and Umberto Sava over the years.
Both are commemorated in town with various plaques and statues, but most of the attention falls on a temporary Triestino, James Joyce.
James Joyce
The Irish author lived in Trieste, barring the odd venture elsewhere, between 1904 and 1915. Whilst there, he taught English at the Berlitz Language School and dabbled in a spot of journalism for the local paper, Il Piccolo.
However, if you believe the tourist industry that has sprung up around the Ulysses author, he spent most of his time moving from house to house, eating at just about every café in town and practically inhabiting the Teatro Verdi. It’s a wonder that the poor chap got any time to do any writing…
Those wanting to cosy up can do a walking tour based on material from the tourist information office, while there is a surprisingly diminutive statue of Joyce on the bridge over the Canal Grande.
Trieste architecture
The louche reputation of the city’s inhabitants is in direct contrast to the architecture. The city’s castle, perched atop a challenging hill, is austere and functional rather than brimming with fairy tale fanciness.
Just outside, with a fine view of the steep ramp of land from the Adriatic to the hills, is a big, black, brutal war memorial. Subtle it is not, but imposing is a different matter.
The city centre is equally at odds. The main square, the Piazza dell’Unità d’Italia, is typical. It’s spacious, clean and crisp, surrounded by bulky-but-grand neo-classical buildings. Aside from the extensive Roman ruins, that applies for much of the city until you start investigating the little international outcrops that give the city its character.
The Greek and Serbian orthodox churches, for example, are glittering stand-outs.
Barcola’s beaches
To get a real feel of what Trieste is about, however, you need to veer out of the centre and head to the seaside. Barcola is the city’s playground, and all it takes is the slightest hint of blue skies for the sun beds to be snapped up, and the little seaside strip to be writhing with bodies.
Turn up on a sunny weekday afternoon, and there is a suspicion that the entire population of Trieste has thrown a sickie in order to turn their skin a slightly browner shade of olive.
Along the waterfront, there are distinct sections. Families sprawl and throw beach balls around near the extensive parklands and children’s playground, while older folk get as shamelessly naked as they’re allowed to further up in a quieter spot.
Somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, Barcola turns seriously trendy, with impossibly good-looking bright young things shaking their damp hair as they emerge from the sea, before languorously strolling up La Volce della Luna, and parking themselves on the terrace tables, awaiting a drink.
On summer nights, this achingly cool café turns into the place to be for the It crowd – the perfect spot for a bit of people-watching over a cold drink.
Rowing on the Adriatic
If it’s not exactly action-packed on the shore, then it’s a different world out on the duckpond-esque Adriatic. Rowers lurch away on their oars, seemingly all day every day, cutting through the waters.
They’re either in training for something or other, or they see it as an ideal way of getting some exercise. Indeed, taking to the sea is a big thing in these parts. By far the most spectacular event of the year is the Barcolana regatta, held every October.
While the Barcolana is on, there is hardly a spot in the marinas, and the coastline is crammed with hundreds of boats and yachts. Some are racing, while some have just sauntered on by for the spectacle. The Piazza dell’Unità d’Italia becomes a huge stage for the duration, with all kinds of musical performances forming a vibrant soundtrack.
Castello di Miramare
For a truly beautiful spot, with wonderful views of the city and the sea, its worth walking on a little further, beyond the sunbathers. The Castello di Miramare is as charming as any castle in Italy, but it’s perched in a spectacular position.
Sitting on top of a headland jutting out into the Adriatic, Miramare was once the residence of Archduke Maximilian of Hapsburg. In keeping with Trieste’s random international theme, he went on to become the Governor of Mexico and his wife was a Belgian princess.
The castle is adorable, but Maximilian deserves the most plaudits for his landscape gardening skills. He designed the park that surrounds the castle, a wonderfully tranquil haven of floral displays, scenic views, manicured lawns and bombastic sculptures.
Whether sat in the café, watching the world go by, or perching on the steps, the park looking out to sea, it’s very easy to get rather lazy there. It’s time to shut the eyes behind the sunglasses and, temporarily, become yet another foreign Triestino.
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