I’ve really got to stop going to romantic destinations by myself.
It always rams it home when travelling solo just how very very alone you are.
It probably didn’t help my mind-frame that getting to Verona from Sardinia was a 12-hour ordeal – bus, bus, plane, bus, train, bus, walk with the entire contents of my life on my back to find hostel.
I was so relieved and excited when I did find it, but the girl at the front desk soon has me in a feral mood.
No welcome to Verona, no map, no sheets, no room key – she pretty much just confiscates my passport (which they’re not allowed to do) and throws me a slip of paper with my room number on it – D13.
Now there’s a bad omen.
I trudge up the four flights of stairs to my room, which she assures me is open but it’s locked.
I go back down and then pretty much get in a stand-off with her when she won’t give me bed sheets and plays dumb when I ask when their wifi will be fixed (wifi never seems to work in Italy).
Seriously, why do people who obviously hate other people work in hospitality?
Is it their form of a sick joke or do they derive some sort of perverse pleasure from it?
That said, Verona is well worth the hassle and you can see exactly why Shakesphere set Romeo and Juliet here.
Like many others I make the romantic pilgrimage to Juliet’s house, which can be found through these love graffiti-covered courtyard walls.
As a side note, if you look closely at the last picture you’ll see the guy standing next to statue of Juliet is rubbing her right breast – apparently it’s good luck.
Seen I’ve come all this way, I pay the 6 euro to go stand on Juliet’s balcony.
And, I think my last post about paying it forward when it comes to people offering to take photos of solo travellers worked, because the lady who took this photo was kind enough to take it from two different angles and I didn’t even have to ask her.
After that I find a portal to send a letter to Juliet – when I say letter I mean email, clearly Juliet is now technologically savvy.
I’m still waiting on her reply.