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I’m back in Italy! And it got hot again. I’m not sure if it was a weather system or if it was changing cities from Innsbruck to Bolzano, but it went from high sixties to low nineties. In any event, I knew for certain that I was back in Italy when I passed an old lady pushing her dog in a baby stroller.
It’s a little strange that there is still so much German language around. Italian is predominant, but every place name has two names. Interestingly, sign makers have made use of the fact that Italian and German place adjectives on opposite sides of a word, so what would be “Via Leonardo da Vinci” in Italy and “Leonardo da Vinci Strasse” in Austria is listed as “Via Lenoardo da Vinci Strasse”. Similarly, “Piazza Walther Platz” is giving me no end of amusement.
On a similar topic, I’ve come full circle linguistically. On my first visit to Italy I wondered who the designer named “Saldi” was, since his wares were advertised in every window. Turns out that it’s the Italian word for “sale”. Now I’m having trouble with the fact that when stores advertise “sale” for Anglophone tourists I wonder why a clothing store would be selling salt.
Bolzano’s most famous resident is Ötzi the Iceman, a Copper Age (circa 3200 BC) corpse found in the nearby Alps. He was shot in the back with an arrow and his gear seems to indicate that he was trying to manufacture a bow and arrows in a hurry, presumably to shoot back. The archeological museum that houses him is very well done, and currently features a general exhibition of mummies and mummification. I was especially happy with the section on bog bodies, since I’ve been fascinated by them since reading a bad horror novel, The Bog, as a teen. Perhaps best of all, the Egyptian section of the exhibit included the actual mummy Imhotep (of The Mummy fame), Vizier of Thebes and movie foil to Brendan Frazier.
After visiting the museum I took a long walk up to Castel Roncolo, which was the third castle on the walking path outside the city (not including the fortified manor house, the medieval tower, or the fourth castle atop a nearby hill). I didn’t bother to pay to go inside the buildings, instead just wandering around the courtyard, but it was quite an impressive fortification. I love Europe!
On Wednesday I did something unprecedented in all my time busking in Europe; I got a permit to do so. That morning, after a really good hour of playing, a woman polizia came by and asked, very politely, if I had a permit. She seemed sincerely regretful to bust me, and was extremely helpful in giving directions (you go to this address, take this bus, it’s on the first floor, the office you want is called viabilità, just show your passport and it doesn’t cost anything). Once I got to the office it was closed for siesta, of course, but after hanging out for an hour things went relatively smoothly. There was some debate about whether, as a musician playing at a stand, I was actually “ambulatory” (which has bitten me in the past), but they gave me the benefit of an ambiguous regulation and allowed me the permit. They were rather amused that it was the first time they’d done so for an American.
I spent a very productive and uneventful day of busking without running across any polizie to whom I could show off my permit, but on Friday morning I got a rather unpleasant surprise. I’d misread the rules, and when the cops asked to see my paperwork they pointed out that what I’d taken to be a list of permitted pitches was actually the list of forbidden ones. Which happened to include all the good spots in town. Since I was already scheduled to head south to Trent I hopped a train and left a little unhappily, but I’m trying to focus on the really good three days that I had rather than the fourth that wasn’t. This is one of the reasons that I tend to avoid permit processes; even if you get one the rules tend to be written against you so the mere requirement of a permit is a bad sign.
I have now arrived in lovely Trent, where I spent a few rainy days this spring. I’m hoping for a good weekend, and that the local law enforcement is a little gentler here! The pictures are of a small castle nestled among the grape vines (the first castle on the riverfront walking path) and the cathedral.
It’s a little strange that there is still so much German language around. Italian is predominant, but every place name has two names. Interestingly, sign makers have made use of the fact that Italian and German place adjectives on opposite sides of a word, so what would be “Via Leonardo da Vinci” in Italy and “Leonardo da Vinci Strasse” in Austria is listed as “Via Lenoardo da Vinci Strasse”. Similarly, “Piazza Walther Platz” is giving me no end of amusement.
On a similar topic, I’ve come full circle linguistically. On my first visit to Italy I wondered who the designer named “Saldi” was, since his wares were advertised in every window. Turns out that it’s the Italian word for “sale”. Now I’m having trouble with the fact that when stores advertise “sale” for Anglophone tourists I wonder why a clothing store would be selling salt.
Bolzano’s most famous resident is Ötzi the Iceman, a Copper Age (circa 3200 BC) corpse found in the nearby Alps. He was shot in the back with an arrow and his gear seems to indicate that he was trying to manufacture a bow and arrows in a hurry, presumably to shoot back. The archeological museum that houses him is very well done, and currently features a general exhibition of mummies and mummification. I was especially happy with the section on bog bodies, since I’ve been fascinated by them since reading a bad horror novel, The Bog, as a teen. Perhaps best of all, the Egyptian section of the exhibit included the actual mummy Imhotep (of The Mummy fame), Vizier of Thebes and movie foil to Brendan Frazier.
After visiting the museum I took a long walk up to Castel Roncolo, which was the third castle on the walking path outside the city (not including the fortified manor house, the medieval tower, or the fourth castle atop a nearby hill). I didn’t bother to pay to go inside the buildings, instead just wandering around the courtyard, but it was quite an impressive fortification. I love Europe!
On Wednesday I did something unprecedented in all my time busking in Europe; I got a permit to do so. That morning, after a really good hour of playing, a woman polizia came by and asked, very politely, if I had a permit. She seemed sincerely regretful to bust me, and was extremely helpful in giving directions (you go to this address, take this bus, it’s on the first floor, the office you want is called viabilità, just show your passport and it doesn’t cost anything). Once I got to the office it was closed for siesta, of course, but after hanging out for an hour things went relatively smoothly. There was some debate about whether, as a musician playing at a stand, I was actually “ambulatory” (which has bitten me in the past), but they gave me the benefit of an ambiguous regulation and allowed me the permit. They were rather amused that it was the first time they’d done so for an American.
I spent a very productive and uneventful day of busking without running across any polizie to whom I could show off my permit, but on Friday morning I got a rather unpleasant surprise. I’d misread the rules, and when the cops asked to see my paperwork they pointed out that what I’d taken to be a list of permitted pitches was actually the list of forbidden ones. Which happened to include all the good spots in town. Since I was already scheduled to head south to Trent I hopped a train and left a little unhappily, but I’m trying to focus on the really good three days that I had rather than the fourth that wasn’t. This is one of the reasons that I tend to avoid permit processes; even if you get one the rules tend to be written against you so the mere requirement of a permit is a bad sign.
I have now arrived in lovely Trent, where I spent a few rainy days this spring. I’m hoping for a good weekend, and that the local law enforcement is a little gentler here! The pictures are of a small castle nestled among the grape vines (the first castle on the riverfront walking path) and the cathedral.
