Get thee to a nunnery, go! (Bologna, Italy)

That’s Shakespeare in Hamlet not me, OK?

But I did just that and hopped onto the Fressiarossa from Milan to Bologna and soon entered Il Convento Di Seta Fiori (“The Convent of Silk Flowers”) for a night (or two). It’s a 16th building located within the old city walls of Bologna, Italy, which has been affectionately converted into a boutique ten-room hotel. My room was carved out of the nave of the church. From the curved shape of the ceiling I guessed I was sleeping roughly where the altar once was. The ceiling stretched off into heaven and that night I slept like, well, the angel I never was (or will be).

Bologna, Italy is one of those places you have probably flown over, driven past or trained by on the Fressiarossa as you sped off to Rome, Florence or Venice. By doing just that you may have missed one of the most interesting and charming cities in Italy.It feels more like a town than a city and is home to the Università di Bologna, one of the oldest and most distinguished institutions of higher learning in all of Europe. Founded in 1088 this university had students wandering its campus 100 years before the Magna Carta was signed at Runnymede Meadow and nearly 400 years before Columbus set sail for the new world. For street cred all you have to know is that Nicolaus Copernicus is an alumnus.

In 1588, one of the most inexplicable decisions ever made by a University anywhere denied Galileo’s application to become the Chair of the Department of Mathematics. Why? you might ask. Because Galileo confirmed the findings of Nicolaus Copernicus, who in 1514, proved that the solar system was heliocentric, ie. that the earth revolved around the sun and not the Vatican.

When the Pope heard that bit of annoying science, the Pope’s Christian sense of forgiveness immediately declared that Galileo should be separated from his head. Before that could happen, Galileo wrote a papal apology admitting he had erroneously used “feet” instead of “meters” in his calculations. “Sorry,” he wrote, “the sun does revolve around your Holy Eminence’s Holy Eminence!” That letter was lost (by the way).

In 1615, four hundred years after Galileo was required to appear at an Inquisition in Rome to defend himself as a heretic, Amazon sold its 1 billionth “selfie-stick” proving undeniably that the world had repudiated Copernicus’ heliocentric theory in place of our own singular narcissism. The world now revolves around each of us.

Bologna has an estimated 25 miles of porticos to protect you from the sun or rain or snow or whatever inclement weather northern Italy might throw at you. These covered arches are not simply functional structures.  So instead of looking down at your phone’s GPS display look up at the wonderment suspended above you. Floating overhead are cherubs, flower garlands, bouquets displayed in Roman vases, miles of multicolored ribbon, Roman ladies lounging and Roman men drinking, the heavens with its stars and moons, birds flying freely and in cages, fauns (Roman mythological creature that is half-man, half-goat), winged dragons, and all imaginings of adorned women and men at rest and play.

To this day the porticos of Bologna occupy the intersection of art and function. At the end of the 13th century the city fathers passed a series of laws not the least of which was to set the minimum height of the arches at seven feet. As everyone knows, this allowed a man on horseback to ride comfortably beneath the archways. I believe that horseback riders are no longer permitted under the porticos but this is just an educated guess.

Architecture aside, more than one writer has referred to Bologna as the “Stomach of Italy.” Bologna is situated at the heart of the Emilio-Romagna Region, which produces the trifecta of Italian cuisine: Parma Prosciutto, Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, and pasta.

Convinced yet?

Forget the bologna and cheese sandwiches your mom made for you for much at school. Try the Pasta Bolognese at any café. You’ll thank me later. Guy Sibilla

Finding Cupid (Hakui City, Japan)

The Japanese are the most romantic people on earth. There. I said it.

This does not diminish the contributions of the Greeks who gave us Eros, the god of love and sex and (apparently) Fifty Shades of Grey 2,000 years later. The Romans gave us Cupid and girls in fish net stockings and wings for Valentine’s Day. But not to be out done are the nearly one million Japanese a year who visit the Shinto deity Okuninushi at Keta Taisha shrine for a little shove toward love.

For those in need of a little mojo with their love life, Keta Taisha shrine is just a plane ride to Osaka’s Kansai airport, an express train ride north, a twenty-minute bus ride from the train station to Hakui City and a fifteen-minute walk (up-hill) from the bus stop. You can feel the love with each step.

I passed under the entrance gate, walked up to a miko and confessed to her that “I was searching for true love.” The female temple assistant uttered “Shosho omachi kudasai,” and after several phone calls, a young woman came skipping down a series of steps leading from the shrine. This was how I met a breathless Saori Morikawa, the only female priestess of the six monks who reside at Keta Taisha shrine.

She explained that Keta Taisha shrine has been at this location well past two thousand years. Even if none of the existing wooden structures are original, the site upon which the shrine rests makes it extraordinary. We walked a little way to a moss covered torii gate. “This is the forbidden forest,” she uttered while pointing into the emerald shadows, “because this is where the gods for good relationships reside.”

Shinshoku Morikawa explained that even when you come with the dream of finding true love, all dreams don’t come true right away. So at Keta Taisha shrine, you can leave a message for Okuninushi. She escorted me to an area where thousands of ema were left hanging from fences surrounding the shrine. Think of ema as 4″ by 5″ wooden message boards with love tweets scribbled on them.

The inscriptions on the ema often express private, intimate wishes for true love. Although it felt a lot like reading some else’s love letter, it was impossible to turn away without glancing at some of the ema left hanging for Okuninushi to consider. One message, when translated, shot like an arrow: “Please help me meet someone I really like.” Another translation revealed a wide-open heart: “Please help me find someone who will treat me well and wants to get married.” And one note didn’t ask for much at all: “Please give me a boyfriend who is fun.”

The heart-shaped ema and the arrows piercing bulls-eyes suggested that some symbols of love are universal. Unlike the ema left at Keta Taisha shrine, you can also purchase omamori of amore at a stand near the entrance to take away with you. The small fabric amulets are often adorned with flowers and gold thread and encase prayers for your wish for true love to be fulfilled. It is small enough to carry in your pocket, purse, or wallet. For about $5 USD, less than the price of a Happy Meal, who can resist such a reasonable price for the chance at true love?

I bought five.

Does that seem too desperate?

By now, the afternoon sun was failing and the luminescent glow of the gold accents of the Keta Taisha shrine sparkled. That was my cue to prepare for my departure away from this bubble of love.

I have learned after a lifetime of travel, that one’s journey away from something is as important as the path toward it. To put it another way, a Japanese proverb declares that when you have completed 95% of a journey, you are halfway there. Which meant I had a long way to go even if I had just arrived.

So that’s what I did. I took a breath, said good-bye and began walking away from Keta Taisha shrine and toward my true true love somewhere out there. Guy Sibilla

A Sixty-Second History of Rotterdam (The Netherlands)

Honestly, when I began my visit I knew more about neighboring Belgium than I did about Rotterdam. I did know that sometime less than a thousand years ago, the Rotte River was dammed and presto! Rotterdam. I knew that Ghent (as in “The Treaty of”) was where America ended the War of 1812 with Great Britain and was just across the border. I recalled that the movie “In Bruges” was filmed in Bruges (enough said) and was just across the border. Then there was Antwerp (still in Belgium) with its famed diamond bourses. But Rotterdam?

Now that I have been though, here’s a SIXTY-SECOND HISTORY OF ROTTERDAM. It’s a delightful little town. The people who settled here a long time ago were ruled by the Holy Roman Empire (of course). Then they weren’t.

Three hundred years later they went to war with Catholic Spain because being Protestant meant not having to pay the Pope to go to heaven. They won. Then they formed The Dutch East Indies Company and the Dutch West Indies Company and told the Pope that he should (and I am paraphrasing here) “Go to Hel!” (that’s with one “l”).

Holland became super-duper rich by copying (among other things) the majestic cobalt blue pottery designs from China. To avoid copyright infringement which did not yet exist, they cleverly changed the name from “China” to “Delft” and continue to this day to charge WTF kind of money for a plate.

Napoleon Bonaparte came and went leaving behind some very good brie.

Then the Germans invaded in WWII and Rotterdam was bombed as flat as a Dutch pancake by the Allies. It eventually rebuilt itself into a cool, modern, hip town with bakeries, coffee bars, real bars, and a food palate so diverse you can throw a dart at a map of the world and find a place here serving that cuisine. In fact, it is so wonderful, you will soldier through the cold, the rain, the thunder and the wind and not give a salted herring. So quit reading and go and get your Grolsch on! Guy Sibilla