In fair Verona, where we set our scene...

Eventually I had to leave Nervi and my new Italian Family. Stefano gave me a ride to the station in Genova, where I jumped on a train to Milan, and then I was Germany-bound! In the spirit of spontaneity I found a train I liked the look of (Italian trains never run on time so it didn't really make a difference which one I got). I chose one going to Verona, where the connecting (German) train would take me through Austria to Bavaria. Of Course, my Italian train was late arriving in fair Verona, and ze precise and efficient service that is BAHN, had left already, leaving me stranded in Verona, already well into the evening. Luckily the station had wifi, so I booked a hostel and, for the first time while travelling, caught a taxi. I can't remember the name of the hostel, not a big tragedy as it wasn't fantastic, but it was fine for a last minute booking. My bed was in a female dorm with about five other beds and a small bathroom. Most of the beds were empty, but two across from me were taken, one with a girl from Croatia, and another with Emily, a Londoner travelling solo. The three of us went out in search of dinner and found a really nice place - which was also cheap, a miracle of a restaurant, truly - and a friendship was born. We still keep in touch today!

The next morning I went out exploring and in search of the house of the famous Juliet Capulet

My hostel was on the other side of the river from Casa di Giulietta. I walked down the riverbank in the early morning sunshine and found the house a few streets back from the bridge in the background.

^ The balcony where the two star-crossed lovers met.

These are some of the costumes used in the 1968 Romeo and Juliet, directed by Franco Zeffirelli. The bed was also used in the film.

Apart from standing on the balcony and touching the bronze breasts of a 14 year old fictitious character, traditions include sticking your gum to the walls in the courtyard (ew, why?), padlocking, i.e. writing your names on a lock and then locking it to a civic object (seems to be a popular thing in Europe, see my Paris posts), writing your name in sharpie on the walls, and - made popular by the very bland Letters to Juliet (2010) - writing letters to Juliet about your relationship troubles. I decided touching the boobies would be my thing.