- Fizzy Thoughts: Italy Trip: Day Twenty-three

Italy Trip: Day Twenty-three

Sunday, October 07, 2007

9/20/07


We decided to hunt down the sights of Monselice, which is about 5 miles from where we are staying. It turned out to be easier than we thought. We walked right to the castle, as it's lower on the rock than we thought. We paid 5.50 euros entry, and ended up getting a guided tour from Federica, who claimed not to speak very good English, but did a damn good job describing all the weapons they have on display in the armory. The castle was built in three sections - the oldest, the fortress part.

Then a separate addition in the middle ages, then a later addition in the Venetian style that connected the two. When Count Cini bought the castle he furnished the whole thing with his collection of weapons and armor and furniture. Federica showed us the armory, the bedrooms, the courtyard and chapel,

the "party room," and the kitchen. The chimneys are unusual with their rounded, painted hoods. (Sorry, no pictures allowed inside.) It was a simpler, more realistic Hearst Castle like experience.

After the castle we continued up the hill, past a villa with statues of dwarfs (the family name means dwarf), then past 7 little identical chapels,

and then to the Villa Duodo.

Access to the rest of the rock (the hike to the top) was prohibited until 3pm (plus it cost 4 euros), so we walked back down and had lunch at what looked like the only place left open in town.

Then it was home to nap and then cook our own dinner of rosemary chicken, roasted potatoes and veggies, and foccacia bread. Plus we had antipasti (olives, cheese and crackers) and dessert (tiramisu). Everything was so good.

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In a real sense, people who have read good literature have lived more than people who cannot or will not read. It is not true that we have only one life to live; if we can read, we can live as many more lives and as many kinds of lives as we wish. ~S.I. Hayakawa

The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.
~St. Augustine

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~Mark Twain

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