Esk Community Choir - What's New?: ‘CANTIAMO' - LET’S SING- IN ITALY!! OUR ROAD TO FLORENCE (2)

Thirty one intrepid travellers: Count Off.

Bentornato amici! Welcome back friends! I do believe I, No. 25, left you last time about to number off as we were want to do upon boarding our big bus bound for the beautiful world-heritage town of Assisi having enjoyed the European gorgeousness of Cadennabia on Lake Como then Cattolica, Rimini and St Leo, the venues chosen for the celebration of Choral singing at the Queen of the Adriatic Music Festival. In the cosiness of our comfortable bus we well may have felt like the chosen few as we travelled the 45 kilometres from Cattolica to Assisi, part of a journey Pilgrims over the centuries had traversed on foot or horseback as they retraced the steps of Saint Francis, nourished by a spirituality and by the charming landscapes en route that spoke of his love for the small things and which brought joy to a simple heart.

Santa Maria degli Angeli in the commune of Assisi

With just a one-night stay in Assisi and a weather forecast of rain and unseasonable temperatures (word had it that we were experiencing the coldest Spring in 60 years) we were certainly not about to let a few threatening skies dampen our enjoyment of this tiny medieval mecca. Within the weather protection of our seemingly waterproof ‘Roger Jackets’ we were captivated by the stories of the life of Francis, initially as we wandered the streets of Santa Maria degli Angeli or St Mary of the Angels, the delightful town situated 4 kilometres from Assisi where St Francis built his chapel over which a magnificent protective Basilica was created and where the gentle Francis died in 1226. It was then up Mt Subasi to Assisi, to the 3000 year old maze of cobblestone pathways, ancient stone houses, flower pots spilling with geraniums and cyclamen, quaint shops of local crafts, icons and to the breathtaking edifice, St Francis Basilica Inferior, where that evening, we were privileged to sing the 5.00pm Holy Mass.

To perform in this Italian Masterpiece of Romanesque and Gothic art was to have the gaze of the good Lord upon us and our voices soared and spiralled to the appreciation of a large congregation. Margaret, No 20, ever-unruffled, appeared to be devoured by the enormity of the pipe organ at which she was poised but certainly rose to the task with her accompaniments adding another level of loveliness to our singing that evening.

The View from Assisi to the valley

Following our performance, the threatening skies turned to harsh rain and frigid wind gusts and many a courageous chorister, with a thirst for exploring, went bravely into that bitter night while others with a different thirst, gathered in the hotel dining room content to fall into the medicinal arms of prosecco and potato chips.

Italian Lesson No. 3: Pedestrian Crossings are merely a suggestion of a safe place to cross roads.

On Day 9, though still cold, glimpses of sunshine greeted the group as we bid addio to Assisi and were back on the bus headed for Mestre with a visit to Padua along the way. From the warmth of our big panorama bus we were treated to some jaw-dropping scenery of the snow- capped Italian Alps, imposing tunnels carved through mountains, sleepy villages, quaint farmhouse fixer-uppers, apple orchards, rice fields and along the way it was mandatory for a bus load of ‘Eskimos’ from Queensland to engage in a snow ball fight at the first sight of a snowbank.

Queenslanders playing in the Snow

Next stop, Padua. With our No. 1 so far having misplaced her passport and pashmina, it seemed fortuitous that this ancient city, famed for its fine basilica dedicated to St Anthony, the patron Saint of Lost Things, be our next stop. It is also home to Italy’s second oldest University founded in 1222 and Italy’s largest piazza, its surrounding murky canals possibly still containing a sprinkling of mossy maritime relics from the 11^th century, but altogether, a hedonistic hot spot to experience and explore. Many strolled among the historic buildings of the University or found photo opportunities around the old town. Some found Padua’s famous Café Pedrocchi, the perfect place to sip hot drinks and savour the delicacies and gentility of this iconic Italian 18^th century ‘coffee shop’. However, more Italian adventures awaited and buoyed by the delights of this day, it was back on the bus for the comparatively short trip to our next three-night stay in Mestre, our gateway to Venice.

Prato della Valle in Padua

Italian Lesson No. 4: No toilet in Italy operates the same way. Expect the unexpected!

While to date it seemed that we had gained a pound or two, it had to have been a pound or two of knowledge, so informative was our tour guide Ondra who was able to regale us with the history of the Regions and towns through which we had been travelling. Supported by his dashingly ostentatious Italian off-sider and driver, Luigi, Ondra who hails from the Czech Republic, became our indispensable companion, carer and compass. Versed as he was in the needs of a Choral group having his own extensive musical background as well as a capacious knowledge of European history, he became our engaging go-to guy often going above and beyond to accommodate the needs of many of our group who, by now had come down with coughs, colds, wonky joints and a lack of direction.

The wet weather gods were again testing us as we prepared the following day for our transfer from

our hotel to the historical centre of Venice. A 2.6 kilometre crossing of the umbilicus of a bridge by bus to the Tronchetto where we tentatively embarked our granturismo, our boat , ironically named “Moby Dick” which was to take us to beautiful Venice and to our guide, Caterina, who was waiting to wire us for sound for the 90 minute guided tour through The Doges Palace, opulent too tame a word to explain its imposing elegance, and its adjoining Bridge of Sighs, the final pitstop for prisoners in the past.

Traffic in and around Venice

Surrounded by a lagoon, this unique city of Venice is infiltrated by water throughout its length and breadth and built for the most part over millions of wooden piles sunk vertically into the mud so as to bear the weight of the finest cluster of palaces and churches anywhere assembled in so small a space, its history no less extraordinary than its buildings.

Taking a Gondola Ride

Following our guided tour and with the rest of the day at our leisure, Venice was ours for the exploring. Teeming with tourists we joined the throng in the Piazza San Marco with its colourful cafes including the Caffe Florian, established in 1720, the oldest, reputedly the most expensive in the world, by any measure, a memorable experience. A few did what one does when in Venice and hopped aboard the iconic gondola to be glided through the myriad of canals. Others found the Rialto Bridge with its assortment of jewellery, clothing and souvenir shops or ventured down narrow cobbled lanes to find designer stores, galleries and countless cosy cafes.

Few can deny that Italians have an eye for colour and nowhere more so is this evident than on two of the islands in the Venetian lagoon, Murano and Burano. The following day, with our transport scheduled around rush hour, it was every man for himself in an effort to remain as a group as we boarded the boat for Murano, famous for its colourful hand-blown glass creations since 1291 and then Burano, where many of the group found more room for the finer things in life… lace, latte macchiatos and more colourful kodak moments around the eye-catching colour washed Burano buildings.

Vivaldi Concert in Venice

Stocked with souvenirs, we boarded the boat back to Venice where fifteen of the group attended a glorious Vivaldi Concert while others, feeling the effects of a full day made their way back to Mestre and warm glow of a Baileys or two.

One didn’t have to be a weather-man to know which way the rain was falling on Day 10 as we departed Mestre, destination Bologna via Verona and Modena. Fortunately, the forecast for later that day was ‘fine’. Upon reaching Verona, we rendezvoused with yet another of our very knowledgeable guides, Carla, who swept us along with the teeming tourists through this splendid city. We passed colourful markets, elegant architecture dating back to 89BC, past the balcony attributed to Shakespeare’s Juilette to finally finish in the Verona Arena, the amphitheatre which dates back to the 1^st century, where large scale operas are still staged and where ‘Cantiamo’ entertained wandering tourists with some beautiful spontaneous singing of our own.

Verona Arena

Staving off starvation with lunch at one of the many trattorias in the bustling Piazza Bra, it was soon back on the bus and off to Modena for the men’s much-awaited visit to the Ferrari Museum. A few energetic others chose to accompany Ondra on a tour of the old town while many of the ladies, weary of hoof after our wandering Verona, chose to cosy up in the Ferrari Cafeteria and ‘chew the fat’ over hot drinks, the visit to the Modena Balsamic Vinegar Factory and farm still on the afternoon’s agenda.

Ferrari Museum in Modena

A difference of opinion

Who knew the process of producing Balsamic Vinegar would prove to be so thoroughly entertaining and we all departed with new ways to utilise this delicious thick black syrup and containers of the highly prized traditional balsamic vinegar.

Due Torrie in Bologna

With Bologna, our final stop for the day being the home of the most prestigious University in Italy and the oldest operating university in the world, (established in 1088), now with a student population of around 86,000, it seemed as we toured this city of hidden charms and learned of its art and century old cultures that its old town ambiance was overshadowed by the slew of students spilling out of bars and restaurants as we made our way to our hotel that evening. Tiring of repeated meals of Italian cuisine, many groups descended upon the local Chinese Restaurant for a welcome reprieve from pasta, pork and puddings and, of course still managed to enjoy that cooling glass of prosecco. And so it is with this picture of conviviality that I will bid you all a presto to take you in the next edition to the romantic city of Florence and the Lorenzo De Medici Choral Festival.

By: Sue Walker (No.25!)