Highway to Hell

I am finally suffering from chapel fatigue.

Today we caught the train to Padua. This journey was enlivened by an explosive Italian argument between a small man and two ticket inspectors. I didn't understand any of the words except "national railways" and "whore".  

We were booked in to see the Scrovegni Chapel. This is Giotto's early masterpiece. The man who hired him was Enrico Scrovegni whose family were money-lenders on a huge scale. As such the Scrovegni's were financing the Renaissance. Without capital there was no art, no architecture, no basilicas, no city walls, no galleys, no books, no universities. On the other hand, as usurers, the Scrovegnis were on a highway to Hell. Dante put a Scrovegni there. 

On the end wall of the chapel the painting is of the Last Judgement. On God's left are the damned. On his right are the blessed. Among the latter is Enrico holding out his chapel as an offering. Deal or no deal?

wga.hu

Lyn, meanwhile, was in purgatory. To enter the chapel 25 people firstly enter a sealed room to adjust the microclimate. Then they enter the sealed chapel. The key word here to a claustrophobe like Lyn is "sealed". While the rest of of us happily watched the video in a pleasant glass walled room, Lyn was being poked into a vat of boiling oil by goggle eyed demons.

Released from the chapel we went to another. The church of the Eremetani was liberated to pieces by American bombers in WW2. The restoration work on Mantegna's frescoes there was fascinating.

We explored Padua's beautiful piazzas and excellent food and Lyn bought a scarf. Then we discovered the Palazzo Della Ragione. This was sort of Padua's early town hall. It was covered in frescoes, had a giant wooden horse and a stone stool for bankrupts. The latter were punished by being sat on the stone in public in their undies, then they publicly renounced their remaining possessions and were sent into exile. (I am not making this up.) Padua took money really seriously.

We went to the Baptistry of the cathedral, which was awesome. Then we caught the tram to see the Basilica of St Anthony. That was just gobsmacking. Lyn braved the religious souvenir shop there but fled in horror at the dreadful tat within.

Then came the moment. We went to the adjoining Chapel of St George. We entered ... and were asked to pay 5€ each to look at the paintings. I said, "No" and left. Chapel fatigue?

Our final stop in Padua was the Cafe Pedrocchi. This is an historic site in itself. It was a famed haunt of students, philosophers, radicals, artists and revolutionaries. In the year of revolutions, 1848, Padua's  revolt began right here. I now know why. Intrigued, I bought a plate of the legendary cakes and two 'Caffe Pedrocchi'. This drink was a concoction of mint cream, sugar and coffee. It was so sweet it made you shake. Lyn refused to drink hers and bought a tea instead. So I drank half of her coffee, as well as mine, and felt a strange urge to overthrow monarchies, break free of the chains of the church and insist on representative government. My new theory on the Year of Revolutions is that it was caused by a continent wide sugar rush.

P.S. Sorry no pictures of Lyn. The one of Lyn in her new scarf did not come out well and, if I made it public, I'd suffer far worse than public humiliation in my undies.