Joining the Tifosi at the birthplace of Ferrari 🏎

Since 1943, the small town of Maranello in northern Italy has been home to Scuderia Ferrari (the racing division of Ferrari, including the Formula 1 team) and Ferrari’s road car factory. I’d planned an ambitious travel day from Parma to Bologna, featuring stops at not one, but two Ferrari museums in Maranello and Modena. With a tight schedule, we didn’t have much contingency time if anything went wrong…

So of course, things started to unravel almost immediately when we got off the train at Modena’s canary-yellow station. We’d planned to store our luggage at an arts centre just next door, but its shutters were half down when we arrived, and when Sara broke in, the only person she could find was a very confused maintenance chap. Sara accosted him anyway and for a moment he looked like he might just help us out, but something told us that this might not be the best idea.

Modena train station, dating from 1859

By some miracle, the tourist information booth outside the station was actually open and the friendly chap inside pointed us towards a hostel roughly 10 minutes away by foot which also offered baggage storage. We just about managed to power walk there and back in time for the twice-daily shuttle bus to Maranello. Phew! Phase one complete. 😅

For the Tifosi (Ferrari’s worldwide group of fanatics), Maranello is the Mecca of motorsport. The museum displays a ridiculous number of fast cars, ranging from their early (and incredibly cute) racing cars to modern Formula 1 cars.

As impressive as the display of vehicles was, if I’m honest, I was a little disappointed at the lack of behind-the-scenes stories that I had hoped might accompany the displays. Every info panel just told us how the cars were skilfully hand-made using the finest machinery, producing works of art by following strict scientific processes. It reminded me of a typical brewery tour, where every brewery always claims to combine only the finest ingredients with great care and attention. Sara seemed to lose the plot at one point, and spent a few minutes reading an information panel in Italian before realising that it was about as useful as the English language translation (note: Sara doesn’t speak Italian).

Ferrari F40 – Sara astutely identified this as the Ferrariest of all the Ferraris

Still, it was really cool to see the Ferrari F1 cars from the Schumacher era that dominated the sport during my childhood, as well as the largest F1 trophy cabinet in existence. After all, no Formula 1 team has won more races, drivers’ or constructors’ championships than Scuderia-Ferrari.

Even though Maranello is less than 100 km from the Imola circuit (which hosts the San Marino / Emilia Romagna F1 Grand Prix), Ferrari have built a private race circuit at Maranello to test top-secret designs for their cars behind closed doors. It was pretty cool to peer over the fence at this legendary place.

After a quick lunch and a shuttle bus back to Modena, it was time to check out the second museum of the day; the Enzo Ferrari museum. In contrast to Modena’s museum, this one focused on the man himself, whose lifetime’s achievements were summarised in a projected film in a matter of minutes. The movie started with his boyhood captivation with the local street races, and went on to describe the founding of the business which grew into the Ferrari brand that we know today, despite being interrupted by no less than two world wars.

The museum is partly housed in Enzo Ferrari’s family home (where he was born and first started tuning Alfa Romeos for racing), and partly in a vast new hanger which had ample space for many more cars. The building was rather elegantly nestled behind Enzo Ferrari’s first workshop, and modelled after a sports car’s rear engine cover.

Of the two, the Enzo Ferrari museum was actually our favourite, despite it being less popular than the museum in Maranello. Having said that, we really did enjoy selecting our two favourite cars (mine was the iconic F40, Sara’s was the cute blue 340MM) from the sea of expensive cars in Maranello.

Despite the tight schedule, I was relieved that we pulled off the plan and got to see both museums in a single day. We finally completed our journey with one more train to reach Bologna, home of the world-famous Ragù 🍝

Eating like a Parmesan 🧀

Parma was designated a UNESCO City of Gastronomy in 2004 – a deserved title considering that a whopping 30.5% of Parmesans are employed in food-related industries (that’s “Parmesan” as in the people of Parma, not the famous cheese – I imagine that 100% of Parmigiano Reggiano are involved in the food industry).

To get to Parma, we first set off on a marathon 8-hour bus journey from Aix-en-Provence to Reggio Emilia. We then transferred to two regional trains and doubled back on ourselves to reach our destination.

Neither of us had been particularly looking forward to the long bus ride, but having prepared plenty of reading material and podcasts to keep us busy, the journey seemed to fly by. We also passed some stunning scenery on the French and Italian Riviera as we sped by on the cliffs way above.

Arriving in Parma that evening, we grabbed a couple of Neapolitan pizzas to eat in the Piazza della Pace – a grassy public square facing the Palazzo della Pilotta. This 16th-century palace has a rather tortured history, but today is now home to a gallery, a theatre and two museums.

Parma is a beautiful small city with a seemingly slow pace of life and surprisingly few visitors. Nowhere felt busy, and every turn revealed a new cobbled street of ochre buildings with shutters to hide from the intense afternoon sun.

If I’m honest, we didn’t make it very far around the streets of Parma before our minds turned to food. We’d read about Da Pepèn; a local institution that churns out 23 varieties of sandwiches, so we joined the quintessentially Italian rabble inside the shop, half of whom were queuing to order and the other half waiting to receive their sandwiches. Top marks if you can guess who is who!

We ordered one panini with Parma ham, mayonnaise and pickled vegetables and another with bresaola (aged, air-dried, salted beef), oil, lemon juice, mayonnaise, parmesan cheese and grilled courgette. Both arrived satisfyingly deep filled and surrounded by bread so crispy that I lost half of it as crumbs, deposited on the cathedral steps where we were sitting.

In our typical style, the city’s main sights were already closing for the afternoon by the time we’d finished lunch, so we took a stroll out to Parco della Cittadella – a modern park within the walls of a 16th century fortress.

On our way out of the park we came across Gelateria Floridita – a pristine and calm neighbourhood gelato shop. Sara ordered a dark chocolate gelato in a cone, which was intensely rich and bitter but perfectly complemented by the sweetness of the cone. Meanwhile, I ordered a single scoop of lemon gelato, which was sharp and zingy to the point that it made my taste buds ache. Both were absolutely outstanding, and probably in our top five ice creams ever.

My gelato seemed to evaporate in seconds, so while Sara slowly painted her face with hers, I looked up the difference between gelato and ice cream. We learned that there are three key differences:

  1. Gelato is made with a higher ratio of milk-to-cream than ice cream, and no eggs. In my mind, this practically makes gelato a health food.
  2. Gelato is stored at a slightly higher temperature than ice cream. This gives it an almost sticky texture, and means that it begins to melt immediately upon leaving the gelateria.
  3. Gelato is churned more slowly than ice cream. This captures less air inside the gelato, giving it a smoother and more indulgent consistency.

In addition to its rich food culture, Parma has no shortage of religious masterpieces. Its elaborate cathedral (left) dates from 1106, while the 16th century Chiesa di San Giovanni Evangelista appears comparatively restrained, but still stunning in its own right. Both were so peaceful and incredibly atmospheric to enter.

For dinner, we headed out to a local Osteria to try a few more Parma specialities. We started by sharing some bruschette (simple perfection) and a plate of spalla cruda (cured pork shoulder), which was surprisingly leathery, but beautifully glossy and very tasty. We washed this down with some Lambrusco – a sparking red wine, which was a first for me! For our mains, I ordered a porcini mushroom and sausage bomba di riso (baked rice pie), which was both meaty and cheesy, and Sara had a plate of tortelli di zucca (pumpkin pasta parcels). I’ve since learned that these are traditional winter and autumnal dishes respectively, but what can I say, they were on the menu! Anyway, it’s nice to try some food from other seasons, since we’ve ended up in Italy in peak summertime for the second year running 😅

As if Parma couldn’t get any more atmospheric, on our way back to the apartment we caught part of a classical music recital coming from within the Casa della Musica. The music was clearly audible from outside, since all of the building’s doors and windows had been opened, presumably to encourage even the slightest breeze to provide some respite from the summer heat. It was beautiful and layered even more character onto the dimly-lit, cobbled streets.

Despite his expression, we’re pretty sure this cat was enjoying the music, perched on top of a Fiat 500 (of course)

Beyond Parma, I’d planned an ambitious travel day on our way to Bologna featuring stops at both Modena’s Enzo Ferrari Museum, and Maranello’s Ferrari Museum. It was only once we’d left our apartment in Parma that it occurred to me that the day ran a serious risk of turning into another Debed Canyon mis-adventure… More on this next time!

Crossing the Iberian Peninsula (parte uno)

We arrived in Lisbon bleary eyed after a short overnight flight from New York City. Landing back in Europe marked the beginning of the next leg of our journey through Portugal, Spain, France and Italy in just two weeks. We’ll then take an overnight ferry from the port of Ancona to Corfu to spend a few days with Sara’s family.

We were so happy to be back in Europe. After nearly a year on the road, the sight of Lisbon’s cobbled streets and pastel-hued buildings looked both comfortingly familiar and effortlessly beautiful. We also immediately appreciated the functioning public transport system, with the two clean, quick, comfortable and affordable metros we took from Lisbon’s airport forming quite the contrast to the two subways, two air-trains and a bus that we took to JFK Airport in New York. The affordable and delicious food was also very welcome, so much so that I noticed Sara almost tear up when she spotted a custard tart and coffee combo being sold for €1.80 on the way to our hotel.

With only one (very tired) day in Lisbon, we decided to soak up the atmosphere of the Príncipe Real and Estela neighbourhoods surrounding our hotel.

We thoroughly enjoyed watching the everyday life happening around us in Jardim da Estrela, as parents collected their children from school, couples walked their dogs, and friends met for a drink at the park cafe. After a restorative nap on the grass in the shade, we decided to join in and embrace the local way of life.

That evening we had a hankering for something traditional and healthy, so we slid down the polished-tile pavements to a local cafe called Leitaria Pomar for dinner. The owner was effortlessly juggling taking orders and working the kitchen, and yet somehow our food arrived quickly and tasted delicious. We couldn’t have been happier.


But less than 24 hours after arriving in Lisbon, our schedule had us moving on to another new city and another new country. Bizarrely, the rail connections between Portugal and Spain are few and far between, so instead we took a couple of coaches to reach the UNESCO World Heritage-listed city of Salamanca in western Spain. We arrived in the heat of the afternoon, and even as we walked to our apartment through the old town, Salamanca’s beauty captivated us immediately.

Salamanca is a pretty magical city. It’s one of only six Spanish cities to feature two cathedrals (which are joined at the hip!), and its central old town is almost entirely pedestrianised. Walking through its atmospheric narrow alleys felt like stepping back in time, and was strangely reminiscent of our visit to the Uzbek silk-road city of Khiva.

We spent a morning exploring both cathedrals by means of climbing the “flat topped tower” which joins the two buildings. The tower’s name is a bit of a misnomer, as it doesn’t currently have a flat roof and it never has done as far as anyone can tell. Regardless, it provides great views into both cathedrals, access to the new cathedral’s interior balustrade, as well as providing great views over the cathedral roofs and across the city beyond.

We climbed to the belfry at the very top of the tower, which houses ten huge bells which ring out across the city every hour. Sara was taking some photos of the tower interior when the first bell rang and, in total shock, threw her phone in the air – it honestly scared the living daylights out of the both of us. What followed was an absolute cacophony as the other bells joined in, and the resulting disorientation reminded me of the Siena church scene in Quantum of Solace, but with fewer guns.

The Spanish famously eat lunch late in the day, with most restaurants only opening around 1.30pm or 2pm. We were absolutely ravenous following our morning of exploring the hidden staircases and passages above the cathedrals, so we sat down for the Menú del día at Restaurante Mandala. I ordered Patatas Meneas for my first course, which is a local dish made from mashed potatoes seasoned with paprika, garlic and cumin, and topped with heavily-fried pork lardons and a pickled chilli. It might not have been the healthy, veg-filled cuisine we’d envisaged after departing the United States, but it was absolutely delicious, with the mashed potato alone carrying an intensely rich chorizo-esque flavour. I was already filling up when my second course arrived – Carrilleras al Pedro Ximenez – braised pork cheek in a gravy made from a dark and sweet Spanish sherry. Despite ending the meal with coffee, we were both ready for an afternoon siesta while we digested our feast.

The old town of Salamanca is centred around the 18th century Plaza Mayor. The vast square is bound by ornate and impressively consistent building frontages, which are illuminated spectacularly at night.

We topped off our stay in Salamanca with an ice cream and a late evening stroll around the square, which was full of friends and families (including children!) socialising even at 11pm.

I’m so glad we made the detour north to Salamanca on our route across Spain – it seemed like the perfect combination of historic charm, great food, and just popular enough to give it a buzz without ever feeling crowded.

Beyond Salamanca, our next stop will be the regional capital of Zaragoza in eastern Spain.