Our first stop was outside Verona at the second biggest music store in Italy. Lorenzo was looking for a George-L cable, but they didn't have them. I guess you'd have to go to the biggest music store in Italy for them! But, the store is cavernous, the biggest music store I've ever seen, with all the American stuff you could imagine, as well as European brands. It's a candy shop for sure, but I'm off sugar.
Verona is known around the world as the home of a fictional character. You can even go see the balcony where this non-existant person didn't deliver her famous soliloquy written by an English play-write. Verona does have a lot more going for it than just Giuliette. Unlike Alessandria and Toscalano, Verona is much more grand, obviously a center for business for a long long time. We parked our car near the Roman era stadium which is still in use for operas and concerts. Outside the stadium the set pieces for the various operas are laid for observation, and there are many people dressed in character asking a few Euros for the chance to pose with them. We follow the signs for Giuliette's balcony which takes us down the main turista artery, a 20 foot wide alley that is paved in marble, and lined with shops and restaurants, one of which serves a club sandwich with a fried egg on it. The shops have familiar chain store names, there is even a Foot Locker. The alley feeds into the central square where the beautiful ancient buildings all have the major fashion stores in them. Just look up, and you will see the history, even if the walking level is pretty depressing. But, seeing as how Verona is a commerce city, the center has probably always had stores in them. Nothing ever changes. We were not able to find Giuliette's mythical balcony, maybe it doesn't exist either.
Back to the van, and on the road to Regio-Emelia. Once we get off the highway, it turns to flat farming land. Lots and lots of grapes, but I get the feeling this isn't the high-end wine region, but more like Modesto or Fresno. It's so hot I'm surprised that the grapes don't turn to raisins while still on the vine. The sexy GPS lady leads us astray a few times. I can't blame her, some of the roads are ridiculously narrow, and we do have some confrontations with larger vehicles coming from the opposite direction.
We arrive at our hotel for the night, a very modest B&B and the four of us are assigned to one room. In the late afternoon 100+ temperature, everybody lays down for a nap and start snoring away. It you have ever heard the unsyncronized loops of musique concrete, where the rhythms converge then stray, then you know what I was hearing. After earlier experiences on this trip, I don't want to complain about showers but this one changes temperature like a rotating gel on a color wheel, and the towel is so scratchy, it doubles as an exfoliator.
Over top the Salumeria del Rock (a salumeria is a sausage factory, and quite possibly this used to be one, though the name could refer to the percentage of men in the audience). A very casual place in the countryside, the smell of fertilizer hangs in the air. It's a cool club, with and indoor/outdoor seating area. In addition to our name being displayed outside the front door, it is also on the front page of the menu. I wonder if anybody thought that Pollo Del Mar was a food special? After our set up we have a long wait before we play, but dinner is tasty although some of the more exotic requests are no longer on the menu. As we play I am pretty sure that we are be much too loud, but nobody complains. The only new addition to the set tonight is "Penetration" as a request. After 7 shows, we have become quite the well oiled machine, the mistakes are minor and probably noticeable only to ourselves. I love this kind of club, you can hang out in the parking lot and drink beer under the stars, or sit inside and get blasted (by the band or the grappa). The wait staff is very nice, and the food is great. The location could be a little better, but as a roadhouse, it is perfect.
I'm kind of amazed that I have been so steady with this journal, publishing everyday. If you have any questions or feedback, I'd love to hear it. Thanks for reading.
About the lack of photos, yeah I know it would be a lot better with some, but it is a pain to edit and upload at this point. When I get home I will add lots of pics!
Ferenc, Loving the tour blog.. Will love to see your pictures when you are in San Diego. Say hello the guys!
ReplyDeleteHans in San Diego
The hotelier is proud of his jams, indeed. As we are checking out, I compliment his prowess with preserves. He launches into an enthusiastic breakdown of the entire process A little apple took some of the tartness off the lemon marmalade.
ReplyDeleteThe decision is made to kill time in verona, where we visit a VAST music store and all get lost in our respective departments. Then we wander the center of town. Ferenc's descriptions of the day need no further embellishment from me.
At Salumeria del Rock, there are some cartoons on the wall penned by a loyal customer and friend. One depicts a pig ecstatically enjoying a sandwich saying something to the effect of "This cotto salami sandwich is divine". He is up on his hind legs, one of which has been sawed off, bandaged, and peg-legged....well I thought it was funny. It is oppressively hot. The band plays well, if a little down tempo. Like lardo an a hot skillet.
AT the hotel, I discover how to open the shades outside: there's a cord inside, duh. I had tried to push them open from below and crammed a wastebasket under to hold them open. Whoops. At least I didn't break them. Sleep comes at a reasonable hour, roughly 2 am.