Padova's Patron Saints, Porticos, Piazzas, and Octopodes

"We open in Venice,
We next play Verona,
Then on to Cremona.
(Lotsa laughs in Cremona.)
Our next jump is Parma,
That dopey, mopey menace,
Then Mantua, then Padua,
Then we open again...where?"

(It's almost like I consulted Cole Porter while planning my itinerary!)

Hello, again, Blogonauts!

That bit of lyrical nonsense comes from "Kiss Me Kate," Cole Porter's musical adaptation of Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew," which is set in Padova...although the Bard insisted that the name was Padua. OK! With Shakespeare's ties out of the way, shall we move on?

Aside from a 2-hour hiccup getting from Paris to Venice, my fortnight of living the Italian bunga-bunga lifestyle began without a hitch. (Mental note: Exiting from Paris never goes as planned, so hedge your bets.)

Padova's Porticoes

By early afternoon Tuesday, the train had carried me and my luggage to Padova. Initial impressions? First, this town's architecture looks very Venetian! (I shouldn't be surprised. The train ride from Venice lasted less than 20 minutes.)

Second, almost everyone on the street appears college-age. (Again not surprising, since this has been a college town since 1222.)

And third, in Padova they have made umbrellas redundant because almost all of the walkways are covered porticos. (Alright...that one was a surprise.)

Once detrained, my suitcase and I clattered over the cobblestone mile from the station to my hotel. Then I set out exploring before jet lag shut down all possible conscious thought. 

My first stop was a few short blocks away, the Prato della Valle, which is reputed to be the biggest public square in Italy. I have some doubts, but it is quite a showplace. 

 

Prato della Valle

The grassy plaza is surrounded by a greenish canal, and the island's interior is dotted with leafy shade trees and its edge dotted by dozens of chiseled, long-dead Padovan heroes. The folks socializing in the sunlight seemed to prefer the meadow over the monuments.

At one edge of the Prato sits the church of the Abbey of Santa Giustina, honoring one of Padova's patron saints. The basilica is massive and filled with art treasures along with the excavated remains of  supposed Christian martyrs. 

 

Church of The Abbey of Santa Giustina

Santa Giustina Interior

The Benedictine abbey seems to have shut down, but its impressive chapel remains. In most cities this would be a prime religious/historic attraction. But in Padova, it cannot hold a liturgical candle to the competition a few short blocks away: the Basilica of St. Anthony.

Approaching St. Anthony's Basilica

 St. Anthony of Padua was a 13th century Franciscan friar whose preaching was much adored in his day...sort of like Billy Graham with a brown frock and a funny haircut. He died in 1231 at the age of 35 and was elevated to sainthood at rocket speed. 

Construction of the church containing his remains began almost immediately, but as the cult...err...community of believers surrounding him grew and showered the shrine with gifts, the architects, artists, and artisans followed the money. (Donatello famously provided many of the altar statuary, including the crucifix.)

Anthony's remains lie beneath an ornate side altar, and pilgrims flock to pray there and place a palm on his tomb.  A few times across the centuries, the tomb has been opened and various bits and bobs (tongue, vocal cords, and jaw) have been removed and placed on display in a reliquary chapel behind the high altar.

Nearby also is a historic side chapel festooned with frescoes from near the time of the church's initial construction. Honestly, this was my favorite part of the basilica.

 

Tomb of St. Anthony

 

Reliquary Chapel

 

Donatello's Altar Bronzes

 

Early Frescos

Side chapel frescoes

After leaving San Antonio (you've come to expect puns, right?), I proceeded in search of sustenance, and found my way to the Palazzo della Ragione (more on that in coming posts), which contains a massive food market, and along side it, the Piazza di Frutta.

Palazzo della Ragione

There I found a charming street-food vendor offering stewed octopus and squid.

 

I know many of you enjoy voyeurizing my victuals, so here is a photo of my dinner plate (octopus with pesto and lemon), which I thoroughly enjoyed while sitting on the steps of the Palazzo. 

Bellissimo!

Blog to you later!