Awake absurdly early as one tends to be on a big travel day – in 25 hours I should be home, via six trains and a bus. Had breakfast and checked out of the Vicenza hotel by 08:25, walked to the station, bought my ticket to Verona and was in time for the 08:57. Arrived in Verona at 09:45 and checked in the case to the Deposito Bagaglio.
I'd been concerned for a while that although I had a ticket for the train this afternoon from Verona to Munich – part of a good deal combining this train with the onward sleeper from Munich to Cologne – I didn't have a reserved seat; it's not compulsory but I had visions of standing for the five hour journey. The Internet booking hadn't allowed me to reserve a seat, and when I called Deutsche Bahn they told me to book it in Italy. So I tried to reserve in Venice and again here today, but they just look down their noses and say the train is nothing to do with them.
The man in Verona suggested there was a DB office "up on platform 1", but that's not true. Someone else helpfully told me they have an office in the road on the way into the centre, but that's not true either. So I wasted a lot of time and just have to hope the train is not crowded.
On then to the Arena, the third largest of all Roman amphitheatres. Paid my €4.50 and climbed up to the top with a wide angle lens. The Arena is still in regular use (Rod Stewart due soon) and today they were busy building the set for the forthcoming opera season which starts on Friday: Turandot, Aida, Madama Butterfly, Carmen and Il Trovatore, directed by Zeffirelli. The upper seats are the original Roman stone ones, lower down and in the stalls there are modern but not very comfortable seats.
From the Arena I walked along Via Mazzini, a posh pedestrian-only shopping street, to Piazza delle Erbe, full of quite civilised stalls selling fruit and souvenirs (on different stalls!). Through to Piazza dei Signori for a look at the outside of the Palazzo degli Scalieri and the splendid early-Renaissance Loggia del Consiglio. A coffee and panini for lunch, then a slow stroll back to the station.
When I did get to the train I found it almost empty, and I had a choice of almost any seat I wanted. It departed on time without any announcement that I could hear; it’s as if DB are sneaking their trains into Italy and don’t want anyone to know. I'm now travelling through some outstanding Alpine scenery on the way to the Brenner Pass, the high border between Italy and Austria.
