Some things just matter...

Post no 7. On to the beautiful city of Padua! It is only a short drive from magical Venice (ah Venice, when shall I return?) to Padua. Because our time at each venue is so short (have I mentioned that already?), and because, as usual, I was not paying close enough attention to our freakishly knowledgeable guide Patricia, I could not quite work out at first if Padua was a smallish city or a largish town. I think it's the latter.

We arrived on a coolish mid-morning and on alighting from the bus, the first thing I saw – literally right at the foot of the coach’s stairs – was Weird and Freaky Toy Man. Just to clarify, it was not that our merchant was weird and freaky but his toys certainly were! Spread out on and around his weird and freaky toy mat was an assortment of weird and freaky toys. There was a soldier crawling menacingly along the ground towards us – a la Toy Story. He seemed to crawl slowly sometimes and then all of a sudden he would scurry at twice his original pace as if being pursued by an enemy crawling toy soldier. Then there were these two baby dolls that lay on their stomachs, flexing their legs back and forward while screeching an incomprehensible and seriously freaky tune. There was also a freaky bear whose face bore a striking resemblance to Chucky the psycho ventriloquist doll, and there was the cyclist who did laps of the toy mat and every now and then fell over for no apparent reason only to be righted again by Weird and Freaky Toy Man before continuing. And yes, as you would expect, this was a special day, and should I be interested in purchasing a weird and freaky toy, there was a special price for me. Frankly, I could not think of anything I would want less than one of these toys. But I do admit, I had never seen toys quite like this anywhere else –until I walked into the main square of Padua to discover that these things were everywhere – exactly the same freaky whining babies, crawling infantrymen, Chucky look-alike bears and wobbly cyclists! Now I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, but can someone please explain to me from a commercial viewpoint how this arrangement is going to work? Maybe the whole idea of having 100 people selling exactly the same thing was to wear down buyers so by the time they got to the last display they give up and buy a freaky toy. I looked hard to ascertain if I could a see a single sale anywhere and I could not. Go figure.

Padua Square is a beautiful park that is lined with 39 statues of famous scholars and statesmen who had either lived in Padua or had stayed or taught at the University – the country's second oldest. It was an amazing sight (check out the pics) made all the more so by the fact there was a fun-run happening at the time of our arrival with a blow-up finish line situated right next to a statue of Copernicus. Too funny! The sight of joggers of all shapes and sizes trudging past statues of Copernicus, Galileo and co was just plain odd – but of course, in Italy odd is perfectly acceptable. There was also a vibrant fresh produce market that had the most exquisite and aromatic cheeses and salamis and sundried tomatoes and other oddly shaped root vegetables and herbs. It all looked wonderful. Would love to have bought something – anything – it all looked so tempting, but time was on the wing once again (sigh!) so not today!

Across the park and square and up the street, is the Basilica of St Anthony of Padua – the patron saint of lost things. The street leading up the Basilica – one of the most important Catholic shrines in the world – was just like my imagined Italian town street. There were people walking and riding, and talking with their hands and buying foods and eating in cafes. There were old men and ladies serving in tiny shops crammed full of wonderful things which almost always included huge tins of olive oil, bottles of grappa and holy pictures. Vespers and small cars dived in and around pedestrians who preferred to walk on the road than on the footpath and a very quiet tram ran laps of the square. It all looked so wonderfully Italian. I wanted to stop and drink coffee and eat pastries and just watch, but alas no time, no time...

In the forecourt outside the basilica there is activity everywhere. An Italian TV crew is filming a very old nun and a very old priest on their way inside. The look on both their faces told me this is a very important moment for both of them. I think they were dignitaries of some kind. Once I was inside this enormous church, I could see straight away why so many of the faithful come here.

Of course, St Anthony is the patron saint of lost things. He lived only a short life (he died at 36) but he made such an impression on those he worked with and for that he was made a saint within 11 months of his death – a catholic record! For so many of us, St Anthony comes immediately to mind when we cannot find something important. For those of you who know me, St Anthony would have needed to have put in some serious overtime over the years in search of my regularly misplaced car keys and wallet.

Inside the church, there was beauty and wonder everywhere; however, as extraordinary as the architecture and the art on the walls and ceilings were, what I was most moved by during my time inside was the reaction of two of my fellow travellers, Barbara and Ron. I was behind them when we approached the tomb of St Anthony which lies in a stone-encased coffin in a recess of the main church. They approached slowly and with great reverence, and as I saw Barbara place her hand softly on the cold stone I noticed tears well in her eyes. Her adoring husband Ron wept too, as much, I suspect, for Barbara as for how the experience touched him. Later I was privileged to have the chance to sit with Barbara and Ron after dinner, and Barbara explained to me why she reacted the way she did. It is a very touching story and longer than I could possibly relate or do justice to here, but essentially she had from a child, always felt closely connected to St Anthony, as had her family. As a result, in her many years as a teacher and school leader had always encouraged her students to pray to St Anthony. Now, and after some very tough years battling a number of serious health challenges, she was here in this beautiful church where he lay, and she was standing next to next to him. The emotional impact of the moment was deep and intensely spiritual for her, and for Ron.

During the trip so far I have so often stood in wonder and awe at the beauty of what I could see in these incredible places. Ron and Barbara’s grace-filled moment in the presence of the grave of St Anthony of beautiful Padua was full of its own beauty. And I was privileged to be there to see it.

Gratefully yours
Mark