On the train we hopped and although the temperature outside has you wishing you were inside, the temperature inside those freezing trains gets you wishing you had a coat! It is alot further away than expected on the slow trains, you can pay more and go on a fast train if thats what you prefer though.

Upon getting there and making our way to the tourist office, we picked up a map informing us where Juliet’s house, Romeo’s house etc are. It’s weird that a place that has been immortalized by Shakespeare now has tourist attractions to places that were never owned by the fictional characters. But being the hopeless romantic that I am, it’s nice nonetheless. I particularly enjoyed all of the graffiti on the walls going through to the courtyard where the statue of Juliet is where once you’ve clambered up onto her pedestal and grabbed her right breast you are meant to get good luck in love so it has the thousands doing it. It was there that I had the moment of wishing I knew the language so much it hurt when an old lady got herself up there, not for someone waiting for a camera to take a shot of here but to give the statue some love,instead of just grabbing her breast she rubbed her face, her neck, her hand. Then when she got down and came back over to the front of the crowd waiting their turn tojump up she said a bunch of words in Italian that I SO wish I could have understood.

Verona isn’t just about Shakesphere though, it also has some amazing grave sites, the most complete roman colosseum anywhere and a bustling marketplace.

The Lace making and the glass making islands of Italy. Many people buy what they are lead to believe is real Murano glass while they are in Venice in the tourist shops but by coming here you know you’re getting the real deal. You can find glass blowers doing thier work and sit and watch if you like, there is a glass museum (which I was told by the person on the front desk of the museum that it wasn’t worth the admission fee), and plenty of pretty little streets and laneways.

A short boat ride from there gets you to Burano which is famous for it’s lace-making. I had an overwhelming feeling of deja vu while I was there and I think it was probably because of a mix of recollections of lacy little dresses from when I was a child, doilies that clutter up the houses I grew up in and the crochet that my Nana would do around the outside of face washers and hand towels.

The brightly coloured buildings are a picture postcard waiting to happen and of all the places that I travelled over the summer this was the place that I could see myself living, isolated and making mounds of artwork until my need for processed foods tore me away. It was definitely worth the trip.