A few things about Verona, 2004, Part 2

In four weeks of language school, we saw and did a lot of wonderful things. None was more 'other', out of my experience of my life, than the torchlight parade and reenactment of the revolt against Napolean by the Veronese in 1797. We showed up, having no idea what to expect. Each year has turned out to be a little different. Actually, in 2007, there was no parade, because the 2006 parade got a little out of control, so the powers-that-be cancelled the celebration for 2007.



Ever been in a torchlight parade, with torches made the old-fashioned way with burning pitch? We are in Europe, where each person is responsible for his or her own safety, so you have to keep your eyes open for a burning scrap of the mantle of the torch flying off. I saw such a scrap fly off, and land in a woman's furled umbrella. Unseen by the woman, I had a visio...unless I acted quickly...of the woman turning into a human pyre in front of my eyes. So without thinking, I mean really without thinking, I reached into her umbrella to pull out the scrap. This is how napalm must feel, on your fingers. And it was only a tiny dot. My hand burned all night.


Raised in California in the '50s, going to 4th of July parades in Redwood City with baton twirlers and marching bands, I am destined to love these things. So the sight of fields of silken banners twirling in the night made my heart race.

This is the kitchen table of our little rental apartment on via Interrato della Aqua Morta. The name of the street means 'burial of the dead waters'. It used to be a small canal leading to the Adige River, a canal still used in the latter half of the 1800s, but is now a busy filled-in paved street. Our apartment was two levels, with a roof terrace, totally exposed to the sun, where Angel slept before doing his language school homework. This is one of two dinners I prepared in four weeks. We're in Italy...eat out!

One of my favorite shots of the city, taken from the Teatro Romano, which is on the side of the Adige where we live. The view is of the Centro, the old historic center. The first big pointed tower is Chiesa San'Anastasia, and the shorter one to the right is Torre Lamberti.

Well, here we are, Sandra's parents who ran away from home. Our daughter lives in our house in New Jersey, while we are spending a few 'student semesters' (maybe ten or twelve) in Italy.