Should I try prosciutto or parmigiano, insalata caprese or tortellini ai funghi, limoncello or nocino?
Such are the constant decisions faced when walking like an Italian, with an Italian, following trails that pass as many enotecas (wine bars), trattorias and ristorantes as marble mountains, medieval cities, fishing villages, chestnut forests, olive groves and terraced vineyards.
Tamarillo Expedition’s ten day “Walk Like an Italian” tour is deliberately named. No self-respecting Italian would walk far without pausing for an espresso, or vino, or local specialty dish, says our guide Marina Mantovani, her hands waving in constant motion as she speaks. And so, walk like Italians is what we do, through five distinctive Italian regions.
Marina's helpful influence began long before I even left New Zealand, with her Milan and Bologna hotel recommendations and train timetable advice ensuring I arrived safely and punctually at our designated meeting place, the Bologna Railway Station.
It appealed to her fellow guide Anthony’s quirky sense of humour that the first thing we did on this ‘walking tour’ was hire bikes. Our first stop, the elegant city of Parma, was apparently very bike-friendly and if we were to experience the local culture, then getting on two wheels with the locals in the paved streets and piazzas was the way to go.
The resulting exploration of Parma’s compact centro storico (historic centre) was a fitting ice breaker for our group, five Kiwi travellers and one young Danish lady. Anthony handed out detailed trip notes, complete with his own hand-drawn maps and a list of the city’s best features. We set off on a self-guided cycle tour of the Romanesque cathedral and baptistry, Piazza della Pace (Peace Square), palazzi (palaces), public gardens, hidden alleyways and historic archways of Parma. We saw few other tourists, just elegantly dressed locals and us, conspicuous on our bright yellow rental bikes.
The ice-breaking continued over lunch. This being Italy, critical details also on the trip notes were the culinary specialties of each region we were to visit. Parma is of course famous for its prosciutto di Parma (ham) and parmigiano reggiano (cheese). Lambrusco, a light, sparkling red wine, is the favoured beverage.
Marina ushered us through a small deli, past massive hanging hams and stacked cheeses, into a buzzing back room that we learned was the popular local restaurant Le Sorelle Picchi, run by three sisters. We would never have found it by ourselves.
Yes, this was a walking tour, and Anthony promised that long lunches would not be the norm but our first day together was an excusable exception. As our food arrived one of the three sisters explained the dishes and Marina translated. It was a culinary classroom. Plates laden with thinly sliced hams and soft salamis derived from every part of the pig, it seemed, preceded plates laden with parmigiano, then with tortellini stuffed with pumpkin and spinach ricotta, and much more that I simply can’t recall.
Two businessmen lunching beside us chatted with Marina. They were financiers from Milan, she said, noting that when the world is in economic crisis American financiers have breakdowns, while in Italy they go out to lunch.
Our several courses were washed down with the local lambrusco, after which we navigated our bikes with much hilarity and perhaps a mild element of risk through the narrow alleys to our hotel. Fortunately it wasn’t far; fortunately also there was a challenging walk planned next day, to restore our equilibrium.
Before we left Parma, Marina invited us to visit Camera di San Paolo (St Paul’s Chamber) to view a fresco by Correggio, one of Parma’s most famous artists. In another life, Marina has trained as an art historian. She is also aware that spending hours in art galleries is not to everyone’s preference. “If there is one artwork to see in Parma it is this one, and we only need five minutes and I can explain it to you if you wish.”
She was true to her word, and by 9.30am we had been artfully impressed and were on the road to the Ligurian coast, and the fishing villages, terraced vineyards and olive groves that tumble down the steep hillsides of Cinque Terre.
[end].
by Kathy Ombler.
.
