If you’ve ever dreamed of stepping onto an Italian movie set, Verona is the perfect destination to tick off your bucket list.
Beautiful streets lined with impossibly ornate buildings are in abundance, with something new to have you whipping out your camera with every turn. The marble streets let you walk the city with ease, stumbling upon Renaissance balconies (Juliet’s, of course), extravagant courtyards, beautiful bridges and piazzas that could be plucked straight out of a fairytale.
Visiting in peak summer, during the festival of Ferragosto to be precise, the city is at its most touristy – yet still charming.
Arriving at Verona airport from London Gatwick after a speedy 1.5-hour flight, we hopped in a taxi to the city centre. Twenty minutes later, we checked into our Truly Verona apartment, threw on a change of clothes and headed out for a late dinner.
Our friendly taxi driver, a Verona native, had whispered a local secret: Ristorante Greppia. Heading down an unassuming side street, we found a bustling courtyard teeming with lively diners and a handful of hopefuls waiting to snag a table. The queue may look disordered, but don’t be deterred. Flag down a busy waiter, order an Aperol Spritz, and enjoy the people-watching until it’s your turn. At peak time, we only had to wait around 25 minutes.
Ristorante Greppia embraces the regional love for horsemeat, but, if like me, you’re vegetarian, you may find yourself being drawn to Ravioli Verde – spinach and ricotta ravioli dripping in a sage and butter sauce. Light, simple and utterly delicious.
The next day, ready for the summer heat, we wandered through Piazza delle Erbe checking out the famous market stalls selling everything from fresh fruit and delicate ceramics, to novelty tote bags and socks emblazed with the Statue of David. Unwilling to fork out €4 for a cappuccino, Caffè & Parole was a speedy seven-minute walk and offered a front-seat view of the Duomo di Verona. Serving pastries, sweet treats and cappuccinos for a far more palatable €2.30, it’s worth the wander.
With my travel companions off to catch Brescia vs Palermo at Stadio Mario Rigamonti, a one-hour drive west from Verona, I prepared myself for a solo adventure. The plan: a river walk under the blazing summer sun. The reality: overheating within minutes and seeking refuge in Caffè Brasserie, where a wonderful cameriere swiftly brought over an Aperol Spritz and a glass of water. Listed in order of importance.
Rehydrated and with a newfound pep in my step (the source of my renewed energy remains a mystery), I found Dante’s statue tucked behind the touristy Piazza delle Erbe, paying homage to the Italian poet and scholar who chose Verona as his first destination following his exile from Florence. There’s so much to explore within a small radius – tiny churches, grand piazzas, hidden wells and stunning facades.
By early evening, my feet demanded a break and my stomach, a reward. Craving something informal and easy for a solo dinner, I headed to the back of a very large line at La Bottega della Gina XXL, a fresh pasta restaurant that is a popular haunt for locals and tourists alike. Brace yourself for a queue that’s as long as it is frantic. The staff, while friendly and full of character, are in the midst of organised chaos.
When your buzzer finally vibrates signalling that your pasta is ready, you’ll feel like you’ve won the lottery. I opted for Tortelloni di Ricotta e Erbette in a sage and butter sauce (yes, exactly the same as the night before – no judgement, please). Fast, fresh, and delicious – Italy’s version of fast food is pure perfection.
Satiated, I strolled towards the river taking in the beautiful sights along the way. I find the best way to explore any city is without a strict plan and I wandered down the fast-flowing riverside until my internal GPS signalled that it was time to cut back into the main strip and weave my way into more familiar territories.
By chance, I re-entered via Piazza Bra to see hoards of theatre-goers piling into Arena di Verona to watch Aida. The eclectic mix of attendees – from those clutching seat cushions to compensate for the amphitheatre’s stone seating to others dressed to the nines in silk dresses and smart suits – was a sight in itself.
As the sun dipped, I returned to my new favourite haunt, Caffè Brasserie, where the now-familiar waiter welcomed me with another icy Spritz.
“You’re so lucky to have this as your office view!” he laughed, as I set up my laptop to document the day. The fact that this piazza is also his office had seemed to pass him by. Perhaps the charm of this magical city eventually wears off, but I suspect that for Italians, being surrounded by such beauty is just another Tuesday.
