Hilltop Hamlets, Roman Ruins and a Winged Goddess
In Northern Italy, you can stop counting steps on your pedometer. Really. In fact, you probably can cease counting calories, too. You’re going to want to walk. Everywhere. Here’s why.
In Brescia, you can perhaps traverse the same paths as a sculptor, houseman, or soldier walked thousands of years ago. The Roman ruins here are astounding, echoing those of more-crowded Rome.
Most tourists don’t think of Brescia as an ancient Roman settlement. That’s because until 200 years ago, no one knew. In 1826, the basement of a private Brescian home revealed subterranean levels that dated back to the mid-1st century AD. Found under millennia of sediment was an entire Roman capitolium with seven intact bronze statues, including the Winged Victory, a ten-foot-high sculpture of the goddess of war.
Also among the discoveries were Roman columns, walls and a theater, all inscribed to the emperor, members of the imperial family, and the gods. In 1967, with the help of modern excavation tools, much more of the Roman civilization was unearthed in Brescia. Even today, Roman and medieval remnants continue to be exhumed. Soak up all things ancient when you stroll through the Santa Giulia Museum and the city’s dig sites.
Relish a heart-pumping, rubber-necking morning trek? Head to Brescia’s medieval castle perched at the top of a steep hill. Catch your breath, admire 360-degree views, and then amble down for caffeine at an espresso bar or for something sweet at Bullaccia’s.
More non-step-counting can be accomplished in the walled city of upper Bergamo, known as Citta Alta. This formidable hilltop hamlet gushes with gilded churches, tendrilled labyrinths and ancient trees.
A fun way to exercise legs and lungs is by walking the perimeter of the enchanting upper city. You’ll journey past five grande porti — enormous city gates — and 14 bastions on this 5.3-kilometer wall walk. Perpetual clear skies and endless vistas make this place otherworldly.
While you can freely wander in or out of la citta alta after dark, it wasn’t always the case. Since the 12th century, the bells of Camponone, Bergamo’s civic tower, have chimed 100 times at 10 p.m., alerting residents that the city gates would close for the night. Some people count sheep. Here, you can fall asleep to the bells.
One of my favorite things to do in Bergamo is eat. Gastronomic delights indeed include local pasta dishes.
I call Bergamo’s casoncelli little bundles of joy because these meat-and-cardamom ravioli are drizzled with olive oil, parmesan, fresh sage and local bacon. I also savored a skillet of nettle gnocchi sauteed in fresh pesto and served with parmesan and a liberal pour of olive oil.
Saving room for something sweet is nearly impossible. I paced myself: dinner one night, dessert another night. It’s a marvelous repetitive motion.
On “dessert nights,” I often enjoyed Stracciatella, a cream and chocolate gelato that originated in Bergamo’s La Marianna’s Cafe over 60 years ago. Think connoisseur Dairy Queen dip cone, only the hardened dark chocolate is generously drizzled back and across velvety homemade vanilla gelato, then served in a cone or cup.
The other culinary indulgence here is polenta e osei dolce. Picture a rounded, fluffy sponge cake harboring a nest of liquor and chocolate cream inside and encrusted in crystallized yellow sugar with a chocolate bird on top. If you order it at a restaurant, be sure to emphasize the dolce part; otherwise, you might get precisely what you said — corn polenta and a little bird, as in quail, which is definitely not sweet.
A fan of public transportation adventures, I boarded a fun little vertical railcar known as a funicular that ascended to yet another hilltop. The village of San Viglio cradles the ruins of a castle and a couple of gourmet restaurants with breathtaking treetop panoramas. In keeping with our walk-everywhere theme, you can undoubtedly hike to San Viglio and back to la citta alta.
While much of Italy dotes on its pets, Bergamo holds a special place in my heart for its stupendous love of dogs. Seems everyone is walking or carrying a furry companion. I met Jolly the Boston terrier, who looked and wiggled so much like my Hilo (now deceased) and became an instant best friend. Only after our encounter did I realize that Hilo had passed away four years earlier to the day. Thanks for the celestial love, Jolly.
Well, I’m all out of steps for the moment. If you’ve enjoyed this post, please check out my other Italian adventures . Ciao for now.
