Waking up in Bologna: first impressions of a porticoed city

I arrived in Bologna last night on a late train from Florence, checked into my small hotel just off Via dell'Indipendenza, and promptly collapsed into bed. This morning, I woke to the soft patter of rain against my window and the realization that I'd forgotten to close the curtains properly. The gray light of a November morning in northern Italy filtered through, illuminating my small but comfortable room.

It's day 86 of my journey, with 414 days remaining before I return home. The number feels significant somehow - I've been traveling for nearly three months now, and I'm settling into a rhythm that feels both comfortable and strange. Each new city brings its own discoveries, and Bologna is already revealing itself to be quite different from Florence and Siena.

After a quick shower, I headed down to the hotel's breakfast room at precisely 7:50 AM for the 8:00 AM breakfast service. The woman at reception smiled when she saw me waiting by the door, and gestured that I could go in. "È già pronto," she said. It's already ready.

Breakfast was simple but satisfying - a cappuccino (good, but lacking the richness I've come to expect in Italy), some bread with jam, and a small pastry filled with what I later learned was crema di pistacchio. As I ate, I mapped out a rough plan for my first day in Bologna.

First steps under the porticos

By 9:30, I was out the door and immediately sheltered by one of Bologna's famous porticos. These covered walkways are everywhere, stretching for nearly 40 kilometers throughout the city. With today's drizzle and the weather warning for stronger winds later, I'm particularly grateful for their protection.

My first destination was Piazza Maggiore, the main square. I walked slowly, still waking up and taking in the distinct character of Bologna. The porticos create a rhythm to the walking experience - columns passing by at regular intervals, the ceiling above decorated with varying levels of intricacy depending on the wealth of the original building owners.

The city has a warmer color palette than Florence - terracotta and orange-red buildings dominate, giving everything a warm glow even on this gray morning. The streets feel wider, more open, despite the sometimes imposing porticos.

I reached Piazza Maggiore at 10:00 on the dot. The square was relatively quiet, with a few tourists taking photos of the Basilica di San Petronio and locals hurrying through on their way to work. The basilica dominates the square - massive and imposing, with its facade half marble, half exposed brick. I've read that they ran out of money to complete the marble covering, leaving this curious half-finished appearance that has become its signature look.

A morning coffee under Neptune's gaze

A light drizzle started again, so I ducked into a small café on the corner of the square. From my table by the window, I could see the Fountain of Neptune, an impressive Renaissance sculpture that stands at the intersection of several important streets. The café was warm and smelled of coffee and pastries. I ordered another cappuccino (better than the hotel's) and a small biscotti, then pulled out my guidebook to learn more about the city.

Bologna is one of the oldest university cities in the world, with its university founded in 1088. The city has three nicknames: "la dotta" (the learned one, for its university), "la grassa" (the fat one, for its food), and "la rossa" (the red one, both for its terracotta buildings and its historically left-leaning politics).

I sipped my coffee slowly, watching the square come to life as the morning progressed. An older man at the next table noticed my guidebook and asked in halting English where I was from. When I told him Norway, he smiled and said, "Ah, molto freddo!" - very cold. I laughed and agreed, telling him that Bologna in November felt quite mild to me. We chatted briefly about the weather, and he recommended I try tortellini in brodo while I'm here - Bologna's specialty soup of small stuffed pasta in broth.

The Two Towers: Bologna's leaning landmarks

After finishing my coffee, I headed toward the Two Towers, perhaps Bologna's most famous landmark. The rain had stopped momentarily, though the sky remained overcast. I walked through narrow medieval streets, still protected by porticos, until I reached a small intersection where the towers suddenly came into view.

They're quite remarkable - two medieval towers standing side by side, one significantly taller than the other. The taller one, Torre degli Asinelli, leans slightly, while the shorter Torre della Garisenda leans much more dramatically. They reminded me of Pisa's famous tower, though these have a rougher, more medieval appearance.

I decided to climb the taller tower, purchasing my ticket (€5) from a small office nearby. The climb was challenging - 498 steps up a narrow wooden staircase that spiraled tightly upward. About halfway up, I had to pause to catch my breath, pressing myself against the wall as other visitors passed by. The wooden steps creaked underfoot, a reminder of the tower's age and the countless feet that have climbed these same stairs over the centuries.

Reaching the top was worth every step. Despite the cloudy weather, the view of Bologna was spectacular - a sea of terracotta roofs spreading out in all directions, punctuated by church domes and towers. The city's layout became clear from this height - the well-preserved medieval center surrounded by more modern development, with hills rising in the distance.

I could see the distinctive red roofs, the pattern of streets, and the seemingly endless porticos creating covered pathways throughout the city. The wind was stronger up here, and I could feel the slight sway of the tower - an unsettling sensation at first, but one I quickly got used to.

I stayed at the top for about 20 minutes, taking photos and trying to identify landmarks I'd read about. The Basilica di San Petronio was easy to spot, as was the sprawling Piazza Maggiore. In the distance, I could see the Sanctuary of the Madonna di San Luca, perched on a hill and connected to the city by what looked like the world's longest portico.

A moment of reflection

It's now just past 11:00 AM, and I'm sitting in a small café near the Two Towers, warming up with another coffee. The climb down was almost as challenging as going up, with the narrow spiral staircase requiring careful navigation.

I'm still planning the rest of my day, but I think I'll explore the university area next, then perhaps find one of Bologna's famous food markets for lunch. The orange weather warning for snow and ice tomorrow has me a bit concerned - I hadn't expected winter weather so soon. I might need to adjust my plans for the coming days, perhaps focusing on indoor activities like museums and the city's historic libraries.

For now, though, I'm content to sit here, watching Bologna's residents hurry past under the porticos, protected from the light rain that's started again. There's something deeply satisfying about being in a new city, those first hours of discovery when everything is fresh and unknown. Bologna already feels different from Florence and Siena - less overtly beautiful perhaps, but with a lived-in charm and authenticity that I find appealing.

Three days might not be enough to fully experience this city, especially if I want to explore its food culture properly. But that's a decision for another day. For now, I'll finish my coffee and head back out into Bologna's porticoed streets, ready for whatever discoveries await.