Modena

Modena (stress on the first syllable) is famous for several things: balsamic vinegar, Ferrari, Maserati, and Pavarotti. (Note from the future: At the time I visited Modena, Pavarotti had only a few months more to live, though I didn't know it then of course.) Of course, he was too busy to see me, so I went to an exhibition of beautiful cars in the central square. That colour is known as Modena Yellow, by the way.

Motorbikes were also represented.

But in the story I first have to arrive. The old lady in the Reggio hostel told me that the Modena hostel was near the station and not to worry. She encouraged me to eat more yoghurt, that she had made herself.

Modena is between Bologna and Reggio, so I am heading back east. I found a city map on a council sign and with that, located the hostel. They let me leave my backpack in storage so that I could explore the city. I found a delectable pizza restaurant and treated myself to a campagnole (prosciutto, mushrooms, sausage and onion) pizza, washed down with a German beer and a macchiato. It's not cool to order cappuccino after morning so I've taken to asking for macchiato. However there's so little milk that I could really just ask for an espresso. Mmm, my tummy greatly enjoyed that lunch.

A nearby gelateria supplied dessert, a cone with melon and frutti dimenticati (forgotten fruits). First time I had heard of the latter. I am guessing that they are fruits that are out of favour commercially but are being revived. The gelato vendor explained which scoop was which because they had similar colours.

Ah, this is the gourmand life. I'm digesting the food while sitting under shade in a piazza with a cool breeze passing through. Italy's like that, there are moments of frustration and moments of bliss.

There is a produce fair in another square, with stalls representing the regions of Italy. Such an abundance of different specialties. These Sorrento lemons were huge. At the Sicilian stall I cannot resist buying the last cannolo pastry.

Of course there is balsamic vinegar in the shop windows. It's not a vinegar in the usual sense but made by reduction of cooked grape juice, hence the high price.

This street performer is playing a dulcimer. He explained to the audience afterwards how ancient an instrument it was.

Later that evening, I came back for dinner and to see the city by night. It is evidently an affluent city.