It was a cold and damp day, so I took my time leaving the hostel for the city. I wanted to rent a bike to explore a bit of the surrounding countryside, but the manager said that all the bikes were in disrepair and wouldn't be fixed until later in the season.
Today is not a very exciting touring day. My diary records a walk to Porta Saragozza, a lunch of polpetti (meat balls), ogling at huge wheels of parmesan cheese, and some shopping. I didn't want to stay in the city until late afternoon so I bought some bread and cheese for dinner.
The girl beggars in the streets (possibly Romanians because the languages are similar) are very persistent. They also work the trains. Their usual method is to leave a note on the seat as they walk past, and hope that you will have put a donation out for them when they do the return leg. They often get turned out of the trains by the conductors.
Back in the dorm I chat with Hohei, a Japanese boy who has come to Italy with the hope of playing trumpet with his jazz heroes. He's actually brought his instrument along. You have to hand it to the Japanese; when they get an obsession, they go all out to realise their dream. I invite him to come to Reggio Emilia with me tomorrow.
While eating my bread and cheese, an Italian woman struck up a conversation. It seems she's originally from Sicily, but lives in Reggio Emilia and doing a course in Bologna. She's got a slighly gammy leg. I think she just wanted a conversation, being away from home.
It had been a dull day and I only took 6 pictures all day. Time to move on.
The girl beggars in the streets (possibly Romanians because the languages are similar) are very persistent. They also work the trains. Their usual method is to leave a note on the seat as they walk past, and hope that you will have put a donation out for them when they do the return leg. They often get turned out of the trains by the conductors.
Back in the dorm I chat with Hohei, a Japanese boy who has come to Italy with the hope of playing trumpet with his jazz heroes. He's actually brought his instrument along. You have to hand it to the Japanese; when they get an obsession, they go all out to realise their dream. I invite him to come to Reggio Emilia with me tomorrow.
While eating my bread and cheese, an Italian woman struck up a conversation. It seems she's originally from Sicily, but lives in Reggio Emilia and doing a course in Bologna. She's got a slighly gammy leg. I think she just wanted a conversation, being away from home.
It had been a dull day and I only took 6 pictures all day. Time to move on.
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