We got to Verona on the speedy train from Venice on our penultimate day of our holiday to Italy and Croatia, and walked into the city centre from the train station. We did so much walking that day. After passing through the huge gates to the old town, we stopped for lunch on the streetside of the main piazza where we were served by a waiter with an attitude problem. A short walk from there was the amphitheatre - a Roman ruin so complete that they still use it as a venue for pop concerts and operas; unfortunately, it was because they were preparing for such a performance that we couldn't go in, and my heart really went out of Verona from that point.
Still, we went on to visit Casa di Giulietta, the make believe house of Shakespeare's Juliet, complete with balcony, which you can even go onto if you pay to get in (cringe). The walls of the house are plastered with romantic graffiti left by god-knows-how-many lovers, and in the courtyard stands a statue of the lady herself. They say you get good luck if you touch her right hand, and you find love if you touch her right breast, which explains why those two parts are the only clean sections on her entire body - still shiny while the rest is tarnished and dirty.
Further on, we visited a large church, the Chiesa di Sant' Anastasia which looked decrepit outside, but whose interior was fabulously rich with colour and sculpture; a short walk from there was the city cathedral where a mass was taking place; the bright sunlight even in the early evening brought out the lovely golden colour of the stone - very photogenic!
From there we walked to the original Roman bridge that has spanned the river for centuries until the Nazis blew it up on their evacuation of the city; undaunted, the people of Verona had painstakingly picked every stone out of the river and rebuilt the bridge. Crossing the river, we walked up to the castle on the hill, from where we got some great views of the city at night. Unfortunately, we could also see how far we had to walk to get back to the train station. Having decided on getting a taxi back, we walked and walked, but were unsuccessful in flagging one down, and got all the way to the station, in need of a real break.
Luckily, we got on a lovely eurostar back to Venice, and Christian barely stopped praising the Italian train network until he looked down and discovered a small, furry rodent of undetermined species leaping down his leg and under his seat.