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About Bologna

Oh, and the oils – don’t get me started! Slippery as a politician’s promise, stinking of lavender or some hippy crap. Last time I got dragged into one – mate’s stag do, total stitch-up – I’m sliding off the table, yelling, “This ain’t sensual, it’s a bloody oil slick!” Still, that line from the flick, “Love needs care,” pops in me head. Maybe that’s it – sexual-massage done right’s meant to feel like someone gives a toss. Dunno, I’m too cynical for that malarky.

Call to book

Be aware that the last entrance to visit the museum is 45 minutes before the closing time - HR GIGER IS ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS SWISS ARTISTS.

Anyway, I shake it off. I head to the market at Piazza della Libertà. It’s buzzing! Fresh fruits, veggies, and the smell of fresh bread. I’m like a kid in a candy store. I grab some tomatoes, thinking, “These are gonna be the best in my pasta tonight.” But then, I see this old dude haggling over a bunch of basil. He’s all like, “I’ll give you two euros!” The vendor’s like, “Nah, man, it’s worth way more!” I’m just standing there, thinking, “Dude, it’s basil, not gold!”

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