"Two households both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean......" We all know part of this verse, want to know it off by heart, fail repeatedly and with discontent start to realize Shakespeare is harder than it looks.
Instead we settle to visit Verona for lunch. Anywhere this romantic is always swamped with crowds, so we dutifully visit the balcony, cup the breast of the Juliet's statue for the obligatory photo, fail to leave a love letter in the passage and exit into the cauldron of massed tourists and vendors outside, swamping the Amphitheatre. Flooded with plastic chairs and sun umbrellas touting the throngs of dissimulated lovers to eat with them before your coach picks you up to take you away to Lake Garda.
We turned away from this madding crowd and headed for the river and sanctuary.
I took my wife's hand and crossed the bridge where we climbed the relentless steps to observe Verona from above, Alone!
This city is Magnificent in its truthful and basic italian simplicity. We walked the cities outskirting suburbs and found Al Duomo a Pasticceria Caffetteria with its secluded garden, purely by accident.
I washed my hands in the old stone fountain and joined my date for a light and passionately prepared lunch.
Feeling dissolute and mildly satisfied with our small achievement we rejoined the madding crowd.
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