A few things about Verona, 2004, Part 1

This was the year we came to language school. We stretched our brains around trying to learn the basics of pronunciation and grammar in four weeks. Total immersion. Four hours a day, five days a week. As Angel would always say by about 11:30 in the morning, my brain is going BOOM BOOM. Then there was a school-related activity in the afternoon, and a minimum of two hours of homework each night. One night, because I had been sick for three days, I decided to study vocabulary for three hours, instead of doing my 'compiti' (homework) assignment, and the next morning reasonably explained to the instructor, Enrico, my decision. No, that did not fly. A ten-minute lecture later on the importance of structure and repitition in learning a language, I resolved to be a good student and not skip any more compiti.

Each morning we walked from our rental apartment to school, stopping at Nello's cafe for an incredible cappucchino.

Verona is a city of fashion, relentless and everywhere. This is a life-size advertising piece to the right of a door into a small dress shop. Note the left hand on the breast, and her provocative posture even though she seems completely detached from the panting man attached to the hand. Angel calls Verona the city of hipbones and belly buttons. In Spring, Fall and Winter, everyone is buried in sweaters, coats, scarves, hats. But in Summer, the skimpier the better, the more see-through the better. Summer fashions in Verona would get a woman picked up for loitering in Manhattan. And what is a 5'2" size 14 (on a good day) woman to do? I have a lot of flowy skirts in my wardrobe, and sexy shoes. Shoes I can do.

This is one of my favorite photos. A store window reflecting a building. I just like the juxtaposition.

When passing by, I always look up to remark on this wonderful roofline. It is unique to the city, alone in its fantasy.

Prosciutto di Parma. With any kind of cheese. With any kind of melon. All by itself. The real thing.