Author: Oli

Brisighella is small mountain town built at the foot of three hills, which are occupied respectively by a clock tower, a fortress and a church, and surrounded by vineyards. It’s the sort of unspoilt Italian town that we’ve been dreaming about, but never quite expected to find in reality. It’s no wonder that Brisighella is a member of the organisation of the most beautiful villages of Italy.

Our departure from Bologna got off to a slightly rocky start when I cracked my forehead on a doorframe as I was rushing to pack my bag before checking out. Luckily, Sara somehow managed to find frozen peas in the train station shop, which seemed pretty fortunate given that none of our fellow passengers were buying frozen vegetables at the same time as their long-distance train tickets.

But it soon turned out that all our rushing was for nothing, as our train to Faenza was delayed and we missed our onward bus to Brisighella. This left us stranded for a couple of hours in Faenza until the next bus, but it did at least give us some time to catch up on the blog! 😬

I couldn’t quite believe it when we finally arrived at our accommodation – it looked just like one of those Trivago adverts where the woman rather unrealistically asks for the perfect hotel with a roll-top bath in the centre of Venice for £62 a night. We’d booked a room in a charming B&B, whose sun terrace overlooks the central town square – the perfect spot for an afternoon drink and breakfast the next morning. It’s got to be one of the loveliest and most low-key places we’ve stayed on this trip.

When we ventured out later in the afternoon, we found the undulating Via degli Asini (aka Road of the Donkeys) hidden behind a series of arched windows above street level. This street began life as a defensive post in the city’s walls in 1290, before becoming a commercial thoroughfare for carters and their donkeys carrying Gypsum from nearby caves. We never did get to the bottom of why the pathway was so uneven, but I’m guessing it was either old age or something to do with the wall’s defensive function!

With the heat of the day now fading, we took a walk up to the clocktower, which is perched somewhat precariously atop a rocky outcrop. Even though it has been damaged and rebuilt many times over, a tower of some form has occupied this spot since the 16th century. The views were nothing short of spectacular on the way up, and we could clearly see where the town ended and the vineyards began.

We continued back down to the town and up again to reach Rocca Manfrediana – the fortress that has presided over the town since 1310. The roughly square fort has circular towers in two corners and a series of high walls from which visitors can take in the views. As stunning as it was, it didn’t sound like the most comfortable existence for the fortress’ inhabitants, especially for the prisoners who were kept and tortured in the towers.

Back in the town, we loved wandering Brisighella’s cobbled streets and meeting the local residents, many of whom emerged in the cool of the evening to eat and socialise.

All in all, Brisighella felt both beautifully quiet and not even that hard to get to. It sometimes amazes me how little distance you need to travel to get off the beaten track, even in Italy in July. I’m not sure we’d need to spend a whole week here, but I wouldn’t mind visiting a few more of the most beautiful villages of Italy if Brisighella is anything to go by.

From Brisighella, we had just one final stop to make in Italy – the bustling seaport of Ancona.

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.

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).

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 🍝

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.

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!