Verona, he said.
As in “Two Gentlemen of?” I asked.
And Capulet and Montague and Where fore art thou, he said. In fact, Juliet’s balcony is there.
Oh, my, I said. And we both knew it was a done deal that on the road between Venice and Como, we would visit Verona.
It was easy to imagine this beautiful Italian village as Shakespeare did: quaint, colorful, romantic. But I did not feel the spirit of the Bard there anymore—replaced by trinket sellers and trampled by thousands of visitors. And so we bid the city adieu and traveled on.
earlier posts on Venice: