Railway Dog

This surprisingly was the InterCity train from La Spezia to Parma. It slowly squealed its way northeast away from the scrubland of the hilly Mediterranean coast to the huge flat and fertile Po valley.

So much track squealing that an English woman on the train, with a brain injury causing sound sensitivity, nearly had to get off. So the conductor with the help of me and a young Italian woman, got her cooler and calmer, making earplugs with first aid kit cotton wool and water, and just listening. A big issue for her was being believed, as her young kids seem to think she’s making it up. I guess they didn’t want it to be true.

We arrived in Parma delayed and a bit late for lunch, so there were only biscuits and a spinach tofu tart left at the vegan restaurant I rushed to. Yummy all the same.

I was excited to realise we were in an alternative part of town. Nearby was an atheist/agnostic/humanist centre (where I got a sticker and made a donation) and a young communist group.

Later I bumped into a local fellow dog owner in his thirties, who gave me a quick and detailed tour. This area of the city has a long history of standing up for itself. It’s the other side of the river from the aristocratic duchy centre. Until the middle of the 20th century there was even a wall on the pleb side so they couldn’t oggle or be seen by the other. And yet when the city was under attack and not defended by its distant rulers, these people successfully defended it. They did once have a duchess they loved and still revere, because she actually made it a better place for everyone while she ruled.

Down by the river we wandered and mooched, Baspie even drank it. He met two friendly dogs who he got playing with. Their companion had an anti racist T shirt, which he explained was from his local amateur football team that is inclusive and positive – yey! He has a dad who had been an English teacher and made him bilingual. He was also fascinated by local history so was keen to talk about it. Thus we met our brief local friend and self appointed guide. Brilliant!

The cathedral I already had heard about, but dogs are not allowed. So having someone to mind Baspie for a bit was amazing. I dashed round gazing at all the beautiful trompe l’oeil wall and ceiling paintings, and glistening carved wood and stone. The fairy-lit Mary shrine is nicely gothic atmospheric, isn’t it?

I sadly had to turn in too soon due to blisters (next day I bought some technical sandals which helped enormously). The booking.com apartment was a long way from the marked on the map check-in. Not happy due to blisters and heavy pack. They also added a surprise extra fee for a dog. So I wasn’t concerned to leave little dog hairs on the white sheets. It didn’t stop me rather loving Parma, which was an unexpected eye-opening delight, not just a stop on the way to Ancona any more.

Baspie was so happy to be in warm bed not a tent. Still chilly at night