Fair seems rather to undersell Verona, but in Shakespeare’s day, it was also a synonym for beautiful.  And he’s not wrong.  Verona is absolutely lovely.  You may have glanced at my previous post about one of the must-visit highlights of Verona, Bottega Vini.

But Verona has many other delights.  The obvious one is the arena, built in 30AD.  When new, it had seating for around 35,000 people.  Today, all but 2,000 years after its construction, it is still used for public entertainment and performances.  And it’s not like a football stadium on the outskirts of town: it’s plum-spang in the middle of the city, people scurrying by on their way to school or work.  I spent most of my formative years in Rugby, Warwickshire.  In of itself, not a bad town.  But imagine having a Roman arena – still standing, not simply rubble or an oval depression in the ground where once one stood, but a still-functioning, pretty complete one – just knocking about the town centre.  If there had not been a bad earthquake in 1117, it would probably still be pretty much entirely intact today.  What a marvel to have in your town, especially given that you can have a morning coffee, lunch, aperitivo and dinner overlooking it in Piazza Bra.

There are other attractions in Verona, of course.  If I remember correctly, though few ever mention it, William Shakespeare set three plays there: the first one he ever wrote seems to have been a sort of double-act or two-header – perhaps in the vein of Little & Large – about two gentlemen.  The second one set there – and coincidentally the second one he wrote – is all about domesticating a small rodent-like mammal.  Quite why one would want to do that is anyone’s guess; why you’d want to see a play about a fella training one is more unclear still.

The third, even more obscure, play what he set in Verona, was a frankly dotty affair about two star-crossed kids who, despite being about 14, reckoned they were so in love that they both committed suicide twice when they thought the other was dead (if I have it right).  Preposterous stuff.

Anyway, however unlikely events depicted seem, Verona has a little balcony and statue of the misguided female youth of this tale, set in a very picturesque; though usually crowded; courtyard.  You can see more of this courtyard, and Verona, in the Netflix film Love in the Villa (itself barely more plausible than Shakespeare’s effort.  Though, I have to say, it went up in my estimation when the gratingly annoying sister of the male lead turned up her nose when offered Prosecco, preferring Champagne.  But I digress).  And if that trailer doesn’t make you want to get Netflix, nothing will…Ok, forget the movie and just look at Verona.  I mean, look at Verona!

There is also a team in Verona which replies to the many – and I mean many – letters written by members of the public to Juliet (none of which should reach her, of course, since her name would actually have been Giulietta).  You can even become one of Juliet’s ‘secretaries’ and enjoy the privilege of answering some love-lorn individuals’ letters yourself.  I quite fancy a go at this, though I admit I may be unsuited to the rôle: the temptation would be to reply to every letter by telling the poor soul that the other party is not worth it, they are clearly cheating on you and you should end it immediately.

Then there’s the curious whalebone – or is it an ancient marine reptile bone, one of Nessy’s cousins’ ? – hanging under a medieval arch on Piazza Erbe.  Apparently, local legend is that the first truthful and just person to walk under it will feel it crashing onto their head.  No one knows how it arrived in Verona or when: there are stories of it coming back from the Holy Land with crusaders, that it was a trophy from the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, or that it was unearthed in the surrounding hills many moons ago.  There are probably others.  No one seems sure why it was hung up in public, nor why that location was chosen – though the fact that the arch supported a walkway between the old city hall and the magistrates quarters and that the bone is linked to dishonesty and a lack of justice might give us a cynical clue.

This brings me to Piazza Erbe itself.  A wonderful square – as the header photo shows – with a bit of a craft market and lined on one side with bars and cafés: it’s where I was sitting when I had the latte macchiato and treccia you see above.  Atop these bars & cafés are apartments in the beautiful palazzi.  There are a couple of places, in particular, that have lovely-looking terraces in front of fresco-ed walls that appeal enormously: you can imagine a parallel universe in which you live there, opening your shutters of a morning and having your coffee overlooking the square.  Idyllic.  The reality, you just know, would not be like that – the bars below you would be open until late, music going, constant noise of crowds preventing sleep, and the street cleaning and waste disposal trucks will arive at 5.30am.  But don’t let that ruin the romantic dream.

Verona also boasts a Roman amphitheatre on the north side of the river, just a short, picturesque walk from Piazza Erbe.  Naturally, you have to cross this restored Roman bridge to reach it:

Only a short walk from the Castello San Pietro is the African Museum.

Then there is Castelvecchio – the old castle – and its attendant bridge, built as recently as the 1350s.

There are any number of churches, squares, cafés, bars and beautiful streets to just wander down.  And other museums, such as the Natural History Museum.

As if all this wasn’t enough, you’re only 20 minutes by train – so, you know, you can relax and have a glass or two while you’re there – from Desenzano on Lake Garda.