Padua (or, is that Padova?) and Ravenna

So there I am, leaving Venice. Seems like weeks ago. Oh yes, it was weeks ago. Sorry about that. Rather than guess about transfers and train schedules, I buy my bigglietto to Padua only, to determine my next leg to Ravenna later. I consciensously write down from the departures post all the stops along the way, then notice that the list stops at the stop that is listed as the "via" city on my ticket. Am I learning something about the train ticket system? As it turns out, no. At this point I figure that I would have to detrain at my "via" town and read their schedule to determine further stops. Still not sure if this is always true or not. Anyway, on to Padua (or is that Padova).
What's the big deal here? Or there? The Scrovegni Chapel. Built buy Enrico Scrovegni in order to correct the sins of (and subsquently release him from eternal damnation) his father, the evil usurer Reginaldo. I didn't know that heaven and hell worked that way. Wait a second; that's pretty much the spiel of televangelists, I suppose.Anywho, this place is filled with Giotto art, groundbreaking in its time for revolutionalizing fresco art. Protected from the elements by admission of only 25 people at a time through a series of temperature and humidity gates, it is one of Italy's more spectacular chapels. Or so I've been told. Once again, I am stymied my 'site under restoration' signs. Son of a beeyotch! Italian art and buildings are in the shop as often as their Fiats!
Well, my bad for not bothering to check ahead. I drop into town to see what else there is to see. Hmmm. Museum? Closed Monday. Checjed out the old University (where Galileo and Copernicus actually discovered the theory of gravity through analyses of beer bongs centuries befor Newton). Good to see that their modern counterparts were keeping up their end. There were girls and boys about, dressed up in odd clownish outfits, covered with flour, standing on benches reading some sort of list, pausing to chug something alchoholic out of a coke bottle after every sentence.
This is from a little video of this to analyse upon my return; I am interested in the scholarly aspects of this ritual:

Further through town, I checked out the Prato Della Valle:

Which I thought might be a Nascar track from the 1600s. Nascart? Checking online, I find that they actually race Ferraris there occasionally...
From that idyllic spot, it was a short jaunt to yet another basilica with to visit another dead saint, this time it's St Anthony. The Basilica of St Anthony (aptly named), is one of the most popular pilgrimmage sites in Itally, St Anthony being a rather popular saint: he is the patron saint of travelers (hooray), amputees, donkeys (I don't make this up - it's from the RS guide), etc etc etc. Inside, it is somewhat obvious that this is a pilgrimmage site; plenty of locals coming in, crossing themselves, rushing to the relics, praying, general pilgrim type stuff. Most chapels I see are set up more as tourist attractions than this. Who was this guy? Young aristocrat, gave up the rich life, and as he had quite the gift of gab, St Francis (you'll meet him in a future posting) sent him on the speaking tour. Along the way he did some handy miracles like bringing back to life a stabbed wife, re-attaching the foot of a young man, that kind of thing. He died early, so the church honoured him by, well what else? Made him a saint (that's good), built him a cathedral (again; nice touch), then dug up his bones, and putting his jaw, tongue and vocal chords on display (too freaky for me), while the rest of him gets stuck in a sarcophagus in another section of the church, where pilgrims come to leave pictures of things they need help with. There are sickly looking kids, old people, a few pictures of crashed cars (?), all lining up to be the next miracle on XXXIVth street.
That pretty well did it for me and Padua (or is that Padova). On to Ravenna, first passing through the University on the way back to see how many passed out students I could find. None. Just the occassional dusting of flour sprinkled around as mute witness to the earlier festivities...
So, an hour and ahalf later, it's arrival at Revenna!

There's not much to Ravenna. But, I managed to get completely turned around there. My trusty Rick Steve's guide is completely wrong when it describes how to get to the Hotel Diana. His map does nto reflect reality, or the GPS. So after a it's back to the cheap and nasty hotel right by the train station. Ahhh, the Hotel Ravenna, in all it's smokey glory. You really know what you are getting in to when the hotel doesn't have the imagination to come up with a better name than that. But on the up side, 40 euro is pretty well the best rate I've seen anywhere, which means dinner should be a four star affair. I dump the gear and head out to suss out the tour route for the next day, as all the sites are now closed, it being early evening. The sussing done (mmm...sussing....), I pop into the local Internet joint to post the Oberbozen-Vicenza story (man, that was a while ago). Somehow, a couple hours on the computer only cost 2 euro, so I am now totally stoked to blow bucks on fine food. Some big mixed (mista) meat plate, the obligatory 1/2 bottle of wine, ravioli, dessert, oh my god. I just roll myself back to the hotel and deflate for the night.
Attractions aren't opening anytime early, so I sleep in 'till nine, then hit the shower. Where I discover the best thing about my cheap room. I have been placed in the handicapped suite, so the bathroom is one big tiled room with the shower head up and next to the toilet. I was able to sh*t, shower and shave sitting down the entire time. Yes, you girls reading this are probably disgusted by that admission, but every guy out there is agreeing with me that all I needed was a beer fridge and a TV remote and I would be in real man-heaven. No damned somber cherubs with harps hanging around in MY tiled paradise.
Somehow, I tear myself away from that happy place, check out, check my bags and head out to find out what in Ravenna is getting renovated during my visit. The museum? No! It is quite open, and open quiet. I am the first and only one there, so there is a security guard walking along with me, opening each room for me as I go. From there, the Basilica de San Vitale, the real reason I did the side trip to this Ravenna. This church was put up about 600AD, and is one of most Byzantine (think Turkey) (the country, not the bird) churches in Italy.

The layout is octagonal as opposed to the traditional cross layout. All mosaic similar to San Marcos in Venice, but much older style art. Very cool.

Earlier versions of Christ, clean shaven, like the Romans portrayed him.
Next to the basilica is a little mausoleum (Galla Placidia); more of the same type of mosaics, but in a smaller, more intimate, well, death room. No body parts on display, happily.
There were a couple other churches of the same era in town I popped into as well, with similar mosaic art but of not quite the same scale. Then, around the cormer from one of them, there's a little mausoleum labeled "Dante's Tomb". I always wondered where in hell that was.
Get it? Where in.. oh, forget it.
And nearby is the Dante museum. My interest is piqued; I head on in, to find various trinkets and histories about that divinely comedic fellow. Then I see the box where the local monks hid his remains in when they broke into his crypt because the Pope wanted to steal the body and put it on display in Florence and what the hell was with these medieval priests anyway? That did it for me in Ravenna, so it was back to grab a panini, cappucio, the bags, and tickets to the next stop on the magical body part tour. Wgere would that be? Why Florence, of course. I know, don't call you Florence.
This would be my introduction to the hills of Tuscany, which snuck up on me as I was reading on the train along the way. We had a loong tunnel , which popped us out in the middle of a sunny valley, like something out of one of those movies with titles like "Under the Tuscan Sun" or something like that. The only difference that it being fall, all the trees are changing color; it was spectacular. And if I were at someplace that I could access my pictures at (I don't know how Steve Raffo is pulling that off, must have the divine assistance of the GSM, I suppose), I would show you how that looked. Maybe on the next installment I'll be able to back-fill this post.
Till then, I am currently in Rome and it's late, so I am going to do what the Romans do...