A load of Bologna

Day 4 of the parish trip was to Bologna, as I said, and I'm not quite sure how to describe it. The day started out on a jaw-dropping note, with our guide telling us about a fresco in the San Petronino Basilica that depicts Mohammed (helpfully labeled, in case anyone might be confused) being tortured by demons in hell. A certain member of our group commented, "ooh...I like that!"

WAIT WHAT??

Our guide said well, certainly this is an outdated belief, but this fresco is important so art historians have argued that we shouldn't change it. I don't know, man. I just don't know. I can see why we wouldn't want to whitewash history, but surely erasing the name and putting up an informative plaque explaining that it was erased and why would be appropriate here? In a place that bills itself as not just a tourist attraction but a living church? The truth of course is that it isn't an outdated belief, as my travel companion helpfully demonstrated. Two thousand years after Jesus's death, we're still working on this whole love-your-neighbor concept.

The funny thing about the fresco of hell is that right above it the holy men of God are depicted robed and sitting in neat rows in what is clearly a lecture hall. Heaven, ha! Bologna is used to mixing church and academia, being home to the oldest university in Europe. The basilica also boasts a tiny hole high up one wall that projects an image of the sun onto the longest meridian line in the world. And a Foucault's pendulum. The high school physics groups were certainly an interesting addition to the usual church tourists...

The craziness didn't stop there. We also visited the anatomy lecture hall at the university, which dates from the 17th century (when the church finally allowed dissections), except that it doesn't because the building was destroyed by the Allies during World War II and what exists today is a painstakingly-created reconstruction.

And speaking of painstakingly-created reconstructions, next on the itinerary was the indescribable Basilica of Santo Stefano, a whole complex of interconnected churches including a reproduction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built according to tradition in the 5th (!) century on the site of a temple to Isis. Our guide explained that building reproductions like this allowed the faithful to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem without getting dangerously far away from home - and indeed, here is a whole list of them. Did you know this? I had no idea.

The last visit of the day was to the Basilica of San Dominico, home to the remains of St. Dominic, founder of the Dominican order. This church was aptly summarized by our guide as "...maybe not the kind of church you'd expect from men who take vows of poverty." So.

After all that my head was spinning and I, like Olivia in Venice, required a gelato.

Ice cream vs. Bologna