Yesterday we went to Padova to see my other cousin–Auntie’s younger son.
It’s about a two-hour drive from here, or it would have been if we hadn’t been delayed for a Fiat 500 rally.
An officious-looking man held us at a major traffic circle for like 15 minutes. I got to hear some genuine Driving Italian, courtesy of Auntie. 🙂
But eventually we were on our way again. We saw my cousin’s apartment, and then headed out to a delicious lunch. Here’s Cousin and Auntie after we ate:
From there we walked into the old part of Padova. It’s so gorgeous! I’ve never really spent any time there. Very cool.
Then we walked on to the Basilica of St. Anthony, and tried to go in. Alas, I was wearing a tank top (I know the rule about Catholic churches…I just hadn’t realized this was the plan!) so we were turned away. But my family, being my family, was not so easily discouraged. We walked around the side entrance and went in, and walked all around inside, me feeling self-conscious the whole time, even as I gaped at the beauty and majesty of the place.
And the weirdness. Like the reliquary: St. Anthony’s tongue, jawbone, and vocal chords. Yes, you can see them.
Detail from the approach to the reliquary:
After we saw the relics, we were spotted by a guard and kicked out, because of my bare shoulders. I was relieved. 🙂
So we wandered off to The Largest Piazza in Europe.
And then had a coffee, and then a drink, and then it was time to drive back here, because we had to be home in time for an aperitivo to celebrate the birthday of the owner of the agriturismo around the corner.
So of course the ‘aperitivo’ turned out to be multiple bottles of wine, many plates of delicious salami and cheese, and bread, and more wine, and then two birthday cakes, one with a random name on it because it had been made by the bakery by mistake. (We sang her happy birthday too, whoever she was.)
Here’s our birthday boy:
We tottered home around 10; a cat tried to follow us, but Auntie chased it off. I had a nice long skype with Mark, then hit the sack, where I am pleased to report that I slept seven solid hours and awoke refreshed and jetlag-free. (Which isn’t to say that I won’t have any more sleepfail; just that it will be regular old sleepfail from here on out, no longer jetlag.)
What’s the rule about Catholic Churches? I’ve not encountered anything like that in U.S. churches.
In Italy anyway, the shoulders (and knees) must be covered. Apparently it’s more strictly enforced in the more touristy, busier churches (amusingly enough). And I did know this, from earlier visits…a quick internet search suggests this is true in Greece as well, but not so much in other countries, even other European countries. Interesting.