Friday to Sunday, 19-21 October, 2018
Esmeralda and I had a date to meet in Bergamo for a girly weekend. We planned a few things, including colouring her hair! We also wanted to have a couple of nice, leisurely meals, lounge about, and explore and take photos. Then life happened. E la vita!
According to Wikipedia, Bergamo is 40km north of Milan and is the fourth largest city in the Lombardy region. It consists of the newer lower city (Città Bassa) and the ancient walled city of Città  Alta, certainly far far fewer..  Bergamo means mountain home and has an elevation of 465m (1525.59′) I took a look at comparisons – Coit Tower is at 91m and Salt Lake City 1,288 m. Those are the demographics.
To get to Bergamo I took a train to Milan and, at the station, bought a local 5.50 ticket on what looks like a Toronto Go Train. My local train journey took abut 45 minutes, sitting in the first class carriage by mistake, something my seat neighbour found quite amusing when we both discovered it – luckily, they didn’t discover us, for on the return journey they did inspect tickets!
At the station in Bergamo, I looked for somewhere to buy a bus ticket. I found it in a tobacco shop adjoining the building. 1.30 would get me onto the bus and up the funicular to the High City. Funiculars scare me a little but it was a cool ride up – two carriages each holding maybe eight people. They go up and down – two carriages that meet each other halfway, then go again.
When I got out at the top, it reminded me a lot of the top of the funicular in Naples – a square with a cafe, and cobblestones. I waited to be met.
I left out the bit where I received an email, just two hours before I was leaving Turin, telling me that the place I’d rented was unavailable. Another place ‘of equal value’ had been found for me. Stress! An examination showed that the new place was in a good location but it was tiny – less than half the space of the original (60 vs 25 sqm). I felt sick. The original host would meet and guide me to the new place. I had no choice. She was cheerful and chatty as we took the short walk along what was definitely idyllic Italy.
The apartment was two floors up in a very old building – tiny, as expected. Clean but sparse. I grinned and bore it and resolved to check into alternatives when Esmeralda had had her say. This wasn’t the comfy, warm place I’d envisioned for our retreat. I now felt a bit bleak but I settled in to wait for Esmeralda to arrive. Meanwhile, the apartment was in the  Piazza Mercato del Fieno (Haymarket Square). It’s a pretty square – sadly, it’s also effectively a big parking lot.
She eventually did – two long delays and one cancelled train later. She was feeling sick and hungry. Too bad when I had already discovered how cold this apartment was. I called to ask about heat and about two hours later the owner arrived. She basically shrugged and said things like ‘Old Town, always like this, mine is cold too, nothing I can do’ and tossed me two blankets. Sigh. They have a lot to learn about tourism in Bergamo.
Hungry didn’t even describe me and it was about 9:30pm – I’d had no lunch. Opposite the flat was a restaurant I’d heard about from a Chowhound member. ‘Down home cooking’ was its description and it was housed in an old blacksmith shop. Hmm.
It was lovely and warm in there. I wanted to move in. It was also still serving food, and was almost full of happy, chatting people. I felt pretty good! I chose a pasta of the region called casoncelli, Esmeralda chose a square shaped pasta with porcini (it’s mushroom season!). She then characteristically chose two main dishes – one a braised meat with an ice cream scoop of polenta, and one a cheese with grilled zucchini and eggplant (and polenta!). Eyes too big for her belly, always! (Sorry, Es!) Casoncelli is a pasta stuffed with cheese and meat then covered with more cheese and bacon and served with butter and sage. It was delicious but heavy and I tried hard not to eat too much of the butter. I ate about six of them and gave up. I picked at the two main dishes after that. Dessert? Who could eat it?
We went for a walk after that, covering a few streets and what looked like a main square. There were people eating under the porticoes and everything looked charming. I felt like I’d finally discovered the Italy people talk about. In the streets were little shops and lot of polenta! They’re crazy about it. Here, they serve it very yellow in mounds of all sizes and also sweetened for dessert. It was everywhere. I was really looking to seeing more in the daylight.
Back at the Haymarket square, we looked around. We could see a flat below ours. The ceiling was very high and beamed. There were tapestries and beautiful art everywhere. We joked how we would ask if we could move in that one instead of our poky place. It was good to laugh.
Hard to know how much to say about what happened next but here goes. Shortly after arriving back at the flat I had to run to the bathroom. This wasn’t unexpected after that heavy pasta with its cheese and butter – and despite the fact I’d tried to avoid eating too much of it – but it got worse. Now I started to see blood, including blood clots in the bathroom and, afterwards, cramps in my lower belly and more trips to the bathroom where I passed more small blood clots. I arranged myself on the couch with a water bottle full of hot tap water and hoped I’d sleep.
Much of my time in Bergamo when I wasn’t in the bathroom was spent on that couch wrapped in blankets, reading, with that hot tap water bottle. And praying nothing worse would happen, hoping I wasn’t going to end up at the hospital. It was too cold to shower. Too cold to really relax. I felt miserable.,.and scared. Continue reading “Bergamo – Città Alta”
