Padua

A Playful Welcome

Welcome to Padua—where the only thing more impressive than the 14th-century frescoes is the local’s ability to eat an entire plate of bigoli in salsa without breaking a sweat. This isn’t Venice’s louder, flashier cousin. No, Padua is the quiet intellectual who aced your chemistry class, secretly wrote a bestselling novel, and still makes the best tiramisu in the province. You didn’t know you needed Padua? You didn’t know you lived until you tried it.

3 Fun Facts About the City (That Will Make You Sound Smart at Dinner)

• The world’s oldest botanical garden is right here. Established in 1545, the Orto Botanico di Padova is a UNESCO site—and yes, it’s where scientists first cultivated potatoes in Europe. Imagine being the first person to try a raw potato and thinking, “Hmm… maybe this needs butter?”

• Padua gave us the first university in the world to allow women to study. In 1377, a woman named Jacoba de Settesoli enrolled in medicine. She probably had to carry her own chalk, but she did it. Meanwhile, modern universities still argue over Wi-Fi passwords.

• St. Anthony’s foot is on display. Yes, you read that right. The patron saint of lost things has a relic cabinet where his right foot is preserved. Locals say if you kiss it, your lost keys will magically reappear. I kissed it. I still lost my socks. But I did find a new favorite gelato flavor. Trade-off?

Local Food You Must Try

• Bigoli in salsa: Thick, rustic spaghetti-like pasta smothered in a rich, savory sauce of onions and anchovies. It sounds like a sad fishmonger’s dream, but it’s comfort food elevated to art. Eat it slowly. Savor it. Whisper “thank you” to the ancestors.

• Risotto al radicchio: Creamy, slightly bitter, and proudly Venetian. The radicchio adds a punch that makes your taste buds do a little happy dance. Bonus: it looks like a sunset in a bowl.

• Gelato at Gelateria Pasticceria Caffè Pedrocchi: Don’t skip this. The pistachio is so good, you’ll forget your ex’s name. And the “tiramisù al caffè” flavor? It’s not dessert. It’s a spiritual experience. Bring a friend. Or don’t. We won’t judge if you lick the bowl.

A One-Day Itinerary (24 Hours of Pure Paduan Magic)

8:00 AM – Breakfast at Caffè Pedrocchi
Sip espresso like a 19th-century philosopher while staring at the marble statues and gilded ceilings. Pro tip: Order the cornetto with zabaglione cream. You’ll thank me later.

9:30 AM – Scrovegni Chapel
Book tickets in advance. Seriously. This chapel has Giotto’s frescoes so breathtaking, they’ll make you cry softly into your scarf. Don’t take photos (no flash, no selfie sticks, no crying into your phone). Just… feel.

12:30 PM – Lunch at Trattoria Da Fiore
Order the bigoli in salsa. Eat it with your hands if you must. No one’s watching. (They’re too busy eating their own bigoli.)

2:30 PM – University of Padua & Anatomical Theatre
Wander the halls where Galileo taught and anatomy students once dissected cadavers in front of crowds. The theatre looks like a medieval horror movie set. It’s not. It’s just science. And also, very cool.

5:00 PM – Stroll the Prato della Valle
Europe’s largest square. It’s basically a giant green lawn with 78 statues of famous locals. Take a nap. Or just pretend you’re in a Renaissance painting.

7:30 PM – Dinner at Osteria alla Bifora
Try the baccalà mantecato (creamed salt cod) and a glass of Prosecco. Then, for dessert… gelato. Again. You’ve earned it.

9:00 PM – Nightcap at Bar Pasticceria del Teatro
Sip an Aperol Spritz while listening to locals debate whether Padua or Verona has better pizza. Spoiler: Neither. They both have better pizza than you think.

Expectation vs. Reality (A Humorous Comparison)

Expectation	Reality
“It’ll be like Venice but quieter.”	“It’s Venice if Venice had a PhD, wore sensible shoes, and forgot to bring its glitter.”
“I’ll see ancient ruins and feel profoundly moved.”	“I saw a guy in a toga walking his poodle. It was 3 PM. He looked proud.”
“I’ll eat like a nobleman.”	“I ate like a medieval monk who just won the lottery. And then I ate again.”
“I’ll be serene and contemplative.”	“I screamed ‘MY SOCKS!’ in the Basilica of Saint Anthony. Then I bought gelato to cope.”

The Local’s Cheat Sheet

• Transport: Walk. Seriously. The city center is compact. If you’re not walking, you’re doing it wrong. Buses exist, but they smell like regret and old bread.

• Etiquette: Don’t order cappuccino after 11 AM. Italians will side-eye you harder than your aunt at Thanksgiving. Coffee is for mornings. Like, spiritually for mornings.

• Hidden Gems:

  • Libreria Antiquaria Piva: A bookshop so old, the dust has its own LinkedIn profile.
  • Piazza delle Erbe at dusk: When the market stalls close, the square turns into a jazz improv night with 3 people and a guy playing the accordion. It’s magic.
  • The “Secret” Staircase at the Basilica: Ask a volunteer for the “scala segreta.” You’ll get a glimpse of a 13th-century monk’s escape route. And maybe a free biscuit.

An Encouraging Conclusion

Padua doesn’t scream for your attention. It whispers. It waits. It offers you bigoli, gelato, and a foot relic—and somehow, you leave feeling like you’ve been hugged by history. It’s the city that doesn’t need Instagram filters because it’s already perfect. So if you’ve been to Rome, Florence, and Venice? Good. Now go to Padua. Bring an empty stomach, an open heart, and maybe a spare pair of socks. You won’t regret it. And if you do? Well… you can always kiss St. Anthony’s foot again.