More masterful creations from Dolci Cose, the candy store on Treviso’s main street. I think of making the molds, then casting. Quite the process. They look way too good to eat.
The Loggia dei Cavalieri, a place where nobles once gathered, later became a warehouse. Today it hosts an antiquarian book sale, which takes place every third Saturday of the month.
So many books on war and fascism, which makes sense given Treviso’s history in both world wars.
Just across the piazza, the Fratelli d’Italia, Giorgia Meloni’s right-wing political party, solicits passersby interested in making the West great again.
I’m off to the market, where everyone is out looking for a deal. I wonder at this guy’s hairdo. Does he braid it himself? A professional rugby player can’t let hair get in the way.
Everyone is out this Saturday before Easter. Lots of greeting and chatting and drinking of spritzes. Treviso is such a small town. I bump into my Italian instructor at the market.
On my way to another museum, I pass through the area where the two rivers in Treviso meet.
It’s the Salce Collection National Museum, named for Fernando Salce, who spent his life collecting posters, over 25,000! then bequeathed them to the Italian state. It’s an incredible collection. This interactive wall enables visitors to select posters based on themes.
Housed in the large former monastery of Santa Margherita, the museum has ample space in which to display its collection. The design and color of these posters are captivating.
Heading back home, I pass a little church with an open door. It’s the church of Santa Lucia, Her day is December 13, my birthday, so of course, I take a look. I’m glad I did. The church, dedicated in 1389, is quite lovely.
Then I see that the door to the Palazzo Trecento is open. I want to see inside but it’s up a huge flight of external stairs. I see a sign that says to go to Piazza Signori 22 to ask for an elevator. I try to find that address by walking around the entire Palazzo, but don’t find it. I ask a security guard standing in front of an expensive jewelry store. He does not know anything about an elevator, but asks the store owner, who very kindly comes out and tells me there is not really an elevator, but one of those devices that carry people up in a make-shift chair. I decide not to pursue it. I break down and climb the stairs.
Despite the time and effort it took, I’m glad I took the trouble. The enormous interior is beautifully frescoed. It serves as meeting place for the City Council.
On display is a stone called the Pietra dei Cedo Bonis, said to be from the 13th century. When citizens became insolvent, their punishment required stripping to their underwear, giving away their clothes and any other remaining possessions, and sitting on this stone in the middle of the square for some time. The stone seems fit for a child, but they were smaller people back then.
Now that I’ve climbed all those stairs, I take time to look down into the piazza at the statue called Teresona, dedicated to the patriots who died in 1866 fighting for a united Italy against the Habsburg rulers.
Today the statue’s base serves as a fine resting place. My apartment is just around the corner, so I’ll go home and get some much needed rest there.