Hosanna From The Salty Pork

Originally I planned to be at the bus 25 stop around 7am, in town around 7:30am and then have a half hour to try and catch a service at 8am. Still too tired from not sleeping in Firenze (slamming doors, noisy streets and children yelling in the street at 6:30am) and getting lost with luggage yesterday, I opted to get up at 7am and go from there. It's Roman Catholic land, so there must be 10 masses on Palm Sunday right?

My calculations were correct. Arriving in town around 9am I walked to one of the main cathedrals on my map and walked right into a service at 9:30am. Perfectly timed. They even had leaflets that outlined the mass in Italian so I was able to follow along and read the Italian to participate. It's close enough to Spanish and has enough Latin roots that you can piece together most (60-70%) of what you read. Also being well versed in Catholic services I could track with what was going on and even partially sing. Plus I got half of JC in bread form again. All in all, a good start to the day. I've always been intrigued by the translation of Hosanna--oh save now--which makes Palm Sunday and more meaningful celebration for me. Here in Bologna, as I guess most of Italy, they use olive branches instead of palms. I'm glad they're using local flora rather than importing palms.

I wandered through the Archeological Museum viewing old pots, arrowheads, vases and bones. As I soon discovered, every church in town (which is usually a fair portion of what you visit in Europe as that's where lots of history is) was offering Palm Sunday services. I decided to sit through mass again for a 2nd helping of JC to view a famous painting afterwards. I think I saw it, but I'm not sure as it wasn't labeled the same as my guidebook and an usher was shooing people out to close up the church.

Most of my day was spent wandering about catching a sight here and there. I stopped at a piazza to enjoy the sun, located a cafe for dinner, climbed 500 steps up a tower (much taller than the Leaning Tower as noted by a wall plaque), ate lunch, visited the Modern Art Museum, ate dinner, grabbed some gelato (chocolate and pistachio) on the way to the bus stop and plopped down in the hostel room. Dinner was not quite what I'd hoped to eat. I wanted something meaty and was looking forward to some pasta. I inadvertently ended up with what can only be described as a meat salad. Slices of cured pork meat (kind of looked like prosciutto but no fat) were topped with cooked spinach and a circle of tomato halves. Imagine eating a lunch meat sandwich in pieces. The meat was so salty I don't think I'll have a lunch meat sandwich the rest of the week. The wine was good however--frangalina (I think) white wine. A strong wine with just the right amount of fruitiness.

It was a long day of walking. Strangely I think I saw everything there is to see in Bologna. Mostly though I came here to eat good food. A good chance to sleep in and take the day slowly tomorrow.