First day in Bologna: a spontaneous arrival
Thursday, November 27, 2025 - Day 93/500
I'm sitting in a small café near Piazza Maggiore, warming my hands around a cup of espresso as I watch Bologna life unfold around me. The train from Modena arrived just before 11 this morning, and I've spent the last few hours getting acquainted with this terracotta-hued city.
The journey was brief - just 25 minutes - but it felt significant somehow. Modena with its balsamic treasures and Ferrari legacy now behind me, Bologna with its scholarly history and culinary reputation ahead. I hadn't planned to leave Modena today, but yesterday afternoon I felt that familiar restlessness creeping in. Four days seemed enough, and with tomorrow's transportation strike looming, I decided to move before being potentially stranded.
I arrived at Modena station 20 minutes before departure (cutting it closer than I prefer), but the train was punctual, and the short journey smooth. Bologna Centrale was bustling when we pulled in - many travelers likely adjusting plans due to tomorrow's strike.
After checking into a modest hotel near the historic center, I set out to explore. My first impression: Bologna is a city of porticoes. These covered walkways line nearly every street in the center, creating sheltered passages that would be perfect for rainy days. Today, with the sun shining and a crisp 10°C, they provide welcome shade and frame the city beautifully. Apparently, there are over 38 kilometers of these porticoes throughout Bologna, now recognized as UNESCO World Heritage.
I found my way to Piazza Maggiore, the main square dominated by the imposing Basilica di San Petronio. The scale of the piazza surprised me - it opens up suddenly after navigating narrow medieval streets, creating a breathtaking contrast. I spent some time simply sitting on the steps, watching locals and visitors cross the square, wondering how many centuries of human activity these stones have witnessed.
Nearby, I discovered the Quadrilatero, the old market district with narrow lanes filled with food stalls. The aromas were intoxicating - prosciutto hanging from shop ceilings, wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano stacked high, fresh pasta being made in windows. I couldn't resist purchasing a small piece of mortadella, Bologna's famous sausage, which the vendor sliced paper-thin and handed to me with a small piece of bread. The flavor was nothing like the processed versions I've had before - delicate, aromatic, with pistachios embedded throughout.
I've already noticed that Bologna feels different from Modena. It's larger, more cosmopolitan, with university students everywhere (it houses the oldest university in the Western world, founded in 1088). Yet it maintains that distinctly Italian character - people taking time for proper lunches, animated conversations on street corners, and a general unhurried approach to daily life.
My plans for the remainder of the day are simple - continue exploring the historic center, perhaps climb one of the famous towers if time permits, and find a traditional trattoria for dinner. I'm particularly keen to try authentic tagliatelle al ragù - what we incorrectly call "spaghetti bolognese" back home.
The yellow wind warning that's in effect until early evening makes me appreciate these sturdy porticoes even more. I've noticed a few loose papers skittering across the piazza, but the medieval buildings break much of the wind's force in the narrow streets.
Tomorrow, with the general strike affecting transportation and possibly other services, I'll focus on exploring places within walking distance. The Archiginnasio and its famous anatomical theater are high on my list, as is simply wandering through the network of medieval streets.
As I finish my coffee, I'm struck by how comfortable I've become with these transitions. Three months ago, arriving in a new city would have triggered anxious planning and immediate sightseeing. Now, I'm content to absorb the atmosphere first, to understand the rhythm of a place before ticking off its landmarks. Perhaps this is the true benefit of long-term travel - learning that destinations aren't collections of sights to be conquered but living entities to be experienced.
407 days remaining in this journey. Sometimes that feels like forever, other times it seems impossibly short for all I hope to see and understand. But right now, in this moment, watching the afternoon light cast long shadows through Bologna's porticoes, I'm exactly where I need to be.