Following in the footsteps of both Shelley and Elizabeth Barrett Browning (married in our own home town) and countless others of course, we have just recently completed our own Grand Tour, taking in Paris, Genoa, Florence and Milan. The above travellers both died on Italian shores (or inland) in 1822 and 1861 respectively … we were more fortunate, although the transition from the 16 degrees of Leicester at the end of this year's Conference to the 41 degree (C) roasting we got in Florence nearly saw us off (106 degrees in 'old money'). The transition was slowed by our decision to travel from London by Eurostar and then wend our way via a succession of trains, rather than by taking a plane. Instead of the view of sky and clouds offered by a 4 hour flight we were treated to a total of 27 hours of stunning scenery which included, going South, the Swiss Alps and, going North, the French.
Having gone via 'Interrail', traditionally the young person's way to travel on the cheap, it was perhaps appropriate that we stayed in hostels run by Hostelling International (equivalent of our own YHA) and so we did. These presented us with everything from a neat little 3rd floor room in Paris on the banks of a canal to a rather Spartan room in a villa some 5km out of Florence. This last could only be reached by a 0.7 km trudge along a dusty half-metalled road up through its wooded grounds … picturesque indeed, but a long way from the bus-stop when pulling/carrying a heavy case whose wheels were broken. The villa dated from the 16th century and sported a fine original frescoed ceiling in the large reception hall. Here the 'style' ended, for the bedrooms seemed more like something out of an Officers' Mess somewhere in the Tropics in WW2: functional steel bedsteads, heavy blankets, shuttered windows and no power sockets or en-suite. We got used to it.
In all three Italian cities we were treated to scores of ancient buildings, whether set out in the relatively broad avenues of Florence ('Firenze') and Milan, or in the intensely crowded narrow alleyways of downtown Genoa ('Genova'). At first we assumed the tenement-like housing, grand palaces and squares were 18th Century, based on Blenheim, Chatsworth and the like. Gradually, it dawned upon us that the latter were imitations of building styles seen by young men (and women) as they toured Classical parts in their own times. The huddled streets, palaces and public buildings of Genoa and Florence dated sometimes from the 13th to 15th centuries. In Genoa, as elsewhere, families live to this day in streets whose opposing sides are so close that the occupants might touch hands – a thing only visible in Britain in The Shambles, in York. Drying washing hangs precariously on lines between high-up windows, just as it always has, presumably since time here began.
We saw splendid art work, as you might expect, much dating from the 12th and 13th centuries and ranging from the carefully curated collections of the Uffizi Museum and Duomo (cathedral) in Florence to paintings and sculptures in the many churches and monasteries in Genoa, less heralded but just as memorable. That which stood out was perhaps the church of St Maria de Castello in Genoa where, in return for a shy smile given to the priest, we were treated to a long and detailed personal tour of every room (the guide must have unlocked at least a dozen doors especially). Here were secret treasures in a building now buried amongst the houses but which once had a clear view of the harbour.
One modern idea midst all of this seemed a nice touch, which could usefully be replicated elsewhere. In the Florence Duomo, where we saw Michelangelo's Pietà (in which the elderly sculptor depicts himself as Nicodemus), a number of statues are reproduced in cast stone or fibreglass, so that blind or visually impaired visitors might experience their beauty. On a more mundane note, Braille messages on the handrails at the head and foot of each stairway help the same visitors to locate themselves within the museum.