We’re starting to get a little worn out from seeing so many castles, palaces and cathedrals (don’t you just hate when that happens?), so today we just took it easy…except for visiting a park that turned out to rank among the world’s ugliest, and a church that had expanded from a 1^st century pagan temple dedicated to the goddess Isis into an enormous complex of 15^th and 16^th century chapels, cloisters and sepulchers.  It’s time to start investigating settling down somewhere just to digest everything and get into some kind of routine, even though we haven’t yet found the city where we want to do that.

Yesterday we took another one of our infamous day trips, which is really an afternoon trip because we can never seem to get anywhere before everything closes at noon (but of course I would never blame my dear husband who shall go nameless).  We took a 1-hour train ride (30 minutes on the way back, when we got the express) to Ferrara, which is NOT where they make Ferraris (that’s in Modena), but where there is a wonderfully well preserved castle.  After eating lunch at the oldest osteria in the world (there’s a picture here, along with the rest of our Bologna and Ferrara adventures), which was established in 1435 and has served luminaries such as Cellini, Titian, Copernicus and Pope John Paul II (we think the wine was left over from Copernicus), we tried to see the synagogue and Jewish museum, but they were closed for the day.  Then we wandered through the enormous Castello Estense, including the dungeons where one prince kept his own brother locked up for 53 years, guard towers overlooking the moat, a room with incredibly well-intact frescoes of the ancient Olympic games, a bacchanalia chamber, and various halls of learning and governance.  In one room, the trompe l’oeil (“trick the eye”) painting was so extraordinary that we stood there arguing for half an hour about whether it was three dimensional or not.  (It wasn’t.  Allen owes me dinner.)  We were especially pleased with strategically placed mirrors that allowed people to see the ceiling frescoes without craning their necks.  There was still a little time left, so we toured the Duomo, then headed over to a palace that was an example of how the average aristocrats lived in the 15^th century, which was pretty much what we were used to in Washington, you know, the 30 or so frescoed rooms and mosaic floors, porticoed courtyard, nothing special.  Oh yes, and while we were there, a small chamber ensemble of harpsichord, cello and flute were practicing an early music program, filling the entire palace with music of the era.  I did manage to make a phone call from the courtyard to my book group back in Washington, however, joining the gals at Lora’s house for the latest discussion, which is at least one thing I imagine the aristocrats did not do.  We decided to have dinner in Ferrara, given the bad luck with restaurants we’ve been having here in Bologna – even the deceptively named Diana, with its white-tuxedoed waiters and crystal chandeliers and fully-reserved dining room turning customers away by the carrello each night, was a major disappointment.  In Ferrara, we did have better luck, especially enjoying the local specialties of pumpkin-stuffed tortelloni, baked sweet (tomato-less) cheese lasagna, and salama da sugo (spicy pork sausage).  Regrettably, we were the only ones in town not have our own biciclette (Ferrara is known for its bicycles) so we had to roll ourselves sideways back to the train station when it was over…