Breakfast is European buffet style here at the hotel, which means juices, cold cereal, hard boiled eggs, cold meats, cheeses and all sorts of breads, croissants, yogurt, fresh and canned fruits. And you have your choice of cappuccino, café latte, espresso, etc. Now I am not a coffee drinker, but I am loving this stuff! David was up and out early as they all had a meeting at the plant. I cannot eat that early, so I went down later and then headed out to see the sights. I wished, like Hansel and Gretel, that I had breadcrumbs to drop along the way so I didn’t get lost going down the labyrinth of streets. But the hotel has a rudimentary map to follow noting landmarks and main streets, so I felt somewhat comfortable with that as my guide.
Wednesdays are market days in Pordenone, so the piazza was bustling with shoppers. Most of them were on foot, but many rode bicycles. I loved seeing the women that appeared to be in their late 60’s, 70’s pedaling along, baskets mounted on the handlebars. It was wonderful watching all the people going about their commerce, visiting with each other. Even though you can’t understand exactly what they are saying, you can imagine the conversations: “Hi! How are you? Beautiful day.” And it was a beautiful day with sunshine, blue sky. Now lest you think we are in the balmy part of Italy, you are mistaken. The weather here is very similar to southern PA. The early flowering trees are in blossom, but the mornings are quite chilly. Everyone was dressed in winter coats, hats, scarves. I followed suit but got quite warm walking around, although I was glad for my coat in the shade.
Okay, enough narration. Here are some of the pictures I took. The first is the Municipio (Palazzo communale) or Town Hall, built between 1291-1395.
Wednesdays are market days in Pordenone, so the piazza was bustling with shoppers. Most of them were on foot, but many rode bicycles. I loved seeing the women that appeared to be in their late 60’s, 70’s pedaling along, baskets mounted on the handlebars. It was wonderful watching all the people going about their commerce, visiting with each other. Even though you can’t understand exactly what they are saying, you can imagine the conversations: “Hi! How are you? Beautiful day.” And it was a beautiful day with sunshine, blue sky. Now lest you think we are in the balmy part of Italy, you are mistaken. The weather here is very similar to southern PA. The early flowering trees are in blossom, but the mornings are quite chilly. Everyone was dressed in winter coats, hats, scarves. I followed suit but got quite warm walking around, although I was glad for my coat in the shade.
Okay, enough narration. Here are some of the pictures I took. The first is the Municipio (Palazzo communale) or Town Hall, built between 1291-1395.
I found a park where I sat on the bench awhile, just listening to the sounds. It is called Piazzale Quattro Novembre, which I have no idea what the significance of what that date means. (There is also another park named for a date in September.) The park is laid out with an octagonal center, with paths encircling and leading out like four spokes on a wheel. Around the perimeter are trees, trimmed pencil thin. Interspersed between the trees are these headless statues. I wondered if they were always lacking their heads or if vandals had decapitated them. Or maybe the town fathers felt safe erecting them headless to preclude any more mischief. Either way, they were all different and interesting.
Here is a picture taken from the park of a church steeple which I believe belongs to Duomo (church) di San Marco, which dates from the 13th century.
Some street pictures and views of the different architectural styles.
For dinner we were all invited out by the Cimolai (name of the company fabricating the bridge) bigwigs to a rather nice restaurant. Salvatore, who seems to be second in command of the plant, ordered for us and we were quite happy to follow his suggestions. Appetizer was thinly sliced ham, indigenous to the region, but not the Parma variety that most people are familiar with. This was a smoked whole ham that was on a table in the corner and pieces were individually shaved for you by the head waiter. There was a champagne type wine accompanying this course.. Next came a pasta dish, served with a tomato sauce (fresh tomatoes, no canned stuff!) with black olives, onion, what tasted like bacon, cheese. (I’m guessing at all the ingredients but it was delicious.) The pasta itself was a very thick spaghetti with a minute hole inside. And my word for the day became bucco , or hole. A white wine accompanied this dish. The next course we had fish, (the other option would have been beef.) I chose the fish that had capers, small potatoes, some other herbs and vegetables over it, like a salsa. As Salvatore instructed us, this brings out the flavor of the fish, enhances it, not covers it up with a heavy sauce like the French do. (Other comments made about the French led me to believe he was not fond of that nationality.) Red wine with this one, which totally blows the red meat/red wine, fish/white wine rule. Ah, dessert! This was a homemade gelato (ice cream) made on the premises, a private recipe. I emphasize cream here because it was smooth as silk, served with some kind of liquor poured over it. I’d have preferred mine plain.
After café we were served a final liquor called grappa. It sounds like a lovely name for what tasted to me like paint thinner. The nearest comparison would be American white lightning. One little sip took my breath away and burned all the way down. I could have passed on this, but you know the saying, when in Rome….
I wish I could relate in more detail the dinner conversation I had with Salvatore. (I was seated directly across from him.) While his English was good, he had to rely on an occasional clarification from one of his younger underlings. He gave us a lesson on Italian food, as per our dinner courses, holding court at the table like the man of importance he is. When the Italian word for “kid”, as in a young sheep, was being discussed, he sent one of the solicitous waiters scurrying to research the translation. Salvatore was rapturous about the architect of the bridge being built, which led to a discussion of the Italian mind and Italy’s great contribution to the art world in all forms. From diVinci, Michelangelo, Brunelli, Verdi, Armani, Ferrarri… the list goes on and what these people have contributed to the world in terms of painting, sculpture, architecture, music, fashion, engineering. I jokingly asked Salvatore if this talent was genetic, to which he laughed and said it probably was in their DNA, but you have to look at the history of Italy. First influenced by the Greeks, and later the Arabic peoples, Italy has absorbed the best of al cultures. (Note the mosaic-style painting in one of the earlier photos for the Arabic influence, the white building for the Greek.) Whatever the reason, the Italian people, as well as the country itself, is amazing.
After café we were served a final liquor called grappa. It sounds like a lovely name for what tasted to me like paint thinner. The nearest comparison would be American white lightning. One little sip took my breath away and burned all the way down. I could have passed on this, but you know the saying, when in Rome….
I wish I could relate in more detail the dinner conversation I had with Salvatore. (I was seated directly across from him.) While his English was good, he had to rely on an occasional clarification from one of his younger underlings. He gave us a lesson on Italian food, as per our dinner courses, holding court at the table like the man of importance he is. When the Italian word for “kid”, as in a young sheep, was being discussed, he sent one of the solicitous waiters scurrying to research the translation. Salvatore was rapturous about the architect of the bridge being built, which led to a discussion of the Italian mind and Italy’s great contribution to the art world in all forms. From diVinci, Michelangelo, Brunelli, Verdi, Armani, Ferrarri… the list goes on and what these people have contributed to the world in terms of painting, sculpture, architecture, music, fashion, engineering. I jokingly asked Salvatore if this talent was genetic, to which he laughed and said it probably was in their DNA, but you have to look at the history of Italy. First influenced by the Greeks, and later the Arabic peoples, Italy has absorbed the best of al cultures. (Note the mosaic-style painting in one of the earlier photos for the Arabic influence, the white building for the Greek.) Whatever the reason, the Italian people, as well as the country itself, is amazing.
