If something is popular, it’s usually popular for a reason. Take Venice for example. At the height of summer, if your manage to bustle your way through the crowds, you’ll see exactly why it’s so special and you come to realise that it’s worth being one of the swarming masses of tourists just to come face to face with something so unique. But at the same time you wish they weren’t there, you wish it was just you, that you were the special one witnessing something so awe-inspiring. But you resign yourself to the fact that you don’t blame the hordes of sightseers around you.
So would it be fair to say that if something’s not popular it’s not worth your time or attention? Of course not. For a start, if that were so, no-one would be willing to give something new a chance. And another factor that you should take into account is varying tastes. Just because the majority likes a certain type of music, film, book or in this case a city, it doesn’t mean there aren’t any others worth exploring. But of course with the almost brain-washing power of modern-day marketing and the bandwagon effect, so-called alternatives get left behind.

And there’s no doubting it’s a shame. But I’m an optimist. You know, the kind that sees the glass half-full, likes to look on the bright side of things. Have you guessed where I’m going with this? Ok let me get down to the point. You don’t find many tourists in Padua. Yet you find some treasures that make you wonder why there isn’t a queue of people waiting for you to move on so they can get a brief glimpse. Turn around, nope, no-one there. It’s all yours.

That’s the magic of this place, and that’s why I came back here. I don’t feel like an outsider looking in, I’m one of the people. Excluding the odd wise tourist who have dared to go off the beaten track to discover something new, the locals are the ones who visit such sights as St. Anthony’s Basilica and Giotto’s frescos. In fact who of you can honestly say that you knew that Donatello left his best works in this city? But my favourite has to be St. Justine’s basilica. Often overlooked, I find myself wandering in there every so often and never fail to be breath-taken, often to realise I’m the one in this cavernous construction.

But I digress. What I meant to go on to say was, this is real Italy. Yes you’ve got the fashion, the food, the architecture and the weather to boot. Each of these is a necessary factor in what makes this country what it is, but it’s the people that really make the place, as I’ve learned from my many travels. The this place is neither so big that it’s impersonal, nor does it have the small-town provincial mentality that causes a native to eye you, the outsider, with a suspicion that automatically makes you feel awkward. You can get lost wandering the little streets and then again you can find yourself chatting with friends at your favourite bar.

Mine, incidentally is not in Padua, it’s 15 minutes away in Legnaro, a small town that’s a bus ride away, and I can see it right now. I know the minute I walk in the door either the owner or one of the waitresses will greet me with a smile, a cheery “Ciao” and my cappuccino (the best I’ve ever had, and believe me, I’ve tried many) will, without fail, arrive in front of me without me having to say a word. When I go to pay, the proprietor will try to charm me off my feet with his colloquial anecdotes. I smile politely at this attempt that always goes over my head, and wander back across the tiny piazza to the school. Yes, there is the subjunctive or some other grammatical stumbling block waiting to be tackled. But I know I’ll be waited for as I furrow my brow in vain attempts to avoid desecration the lovely lyrical language that is Italian. And I also know that someday soon, I’ll manage to use it in a conversation with a local, at a beach party, a dinner with friends, or as I so often do, meet a friend while on the way to the supermarket. Even the locals will smile sympathetically if it takes me a little longer to get the words out. And that’s why I can speak this language better than any other I’ve tried to learn, in a shorter amount of time that I’ve devoted to any of the others.

Those of us in the know feel quite smug, I must admit, about our little well-kept secret that is Padua and Legnaro.
And I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about saying it.

P.S.: the school I am studying at is called “Il Mulino”, you can see me in the photos in their website: http://www.scuolamulino.it
Claire

 

Over

I am leaving tomorrow