Romeo, Juliet and gelato | Review: Palazzo Victoria, Verona

Tell anyone that you are visiting Verona and they will tell you it is “very romantic”. Which is great if you’re into that sort of thing – but if you prefer to walk the streets of Italy feeling a cold ice cream in your hand instead of the soft caress of your partner’s fingers, then a weekend in Verona may not be for you. Or me. Or my boyfriend. But Palazzo Victoria, a former 14^th century palace – now a boutique hotel steeped in history, with high ceilings, wrap around balconies and elegant Veronese décor – changed my mind.

It’s located in the middle of the city, on Corso Porta Borsari – perfectly situated for hand-in-hand strolling, or gelato-in-hand exploration, depending on where your preferences lie.

We check our map and head to the famous Juliet’s Balcony on day one. We admire the graffiti style love notes on the walls, but admit it’s “not very us” to leave one of our own. After we’ve shuffled our way into the small tourist-packed area beneath the balcony and taken a picture, we reverse our steps and turn straight into a local trattoria, Greppia, where the love affair with Verona really begins. Over a plate of penne pomodoro. At 10am.

By 10.30, we spot residents of Verona sipping chilled glasses of white wine; always keen to “embrace the local” (figuratively and, before we were a couple, often literally), we decide to follow suit. “We’re on holiday!” we enthusiastically remind ourselves. The rest of the day is spent exploring the city, going church to church, from Sant’Anastasia to San Fermo, admiring various frescoed ceilings. Several churches and numerous Aperol spritzes later, we head back to the Palazzo to freshen up. And sober up.

Palazzo Victoria’s cool, calm atmosphere is a welcome retreat from the heat of the city. Built on Medieval and Roman ruins (visible through hole-in-the-ground viewing spots throughout the hotel) the property is a history buff’s dream. Corridors are dotted with meticulously preserved frescoes dating back to the 1300s, and the rooms are just as impressive. Spread across three separate wings, they range from the cosy “deluxe” rooms to the huge Marcellus suite, flooded with natural light, and boasting a tub big enough for four.

Our room doesn’t quite have the same facilities – the shower is tiny, all white plastic, with a chair in situ. It’s straight out of a brochure aimed at people whose mobility issues override aesthetics, and totally out of place in the hotel. Our bathtub however, while also a little on the narrow side, is great. I hit “play” and “repeat” on Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet”, and relax as the bath’s twenty water jets pummel me from every angle (who needs a massage – or a bathing companion for that matter?).

Sprayed clean and feeling peckish, we head out again, this time towards an exceptional and lively local pizzeria, Pizzeria Du de Cope, recommended by the hotel’s concierge. Despite my reservations that the city might be too touristy and couple-ridden for my liking, it’s not. “It’s surprisingly… local,” I say to my boyfriend, as we munch our way through stringy mozzarella and dough. “Yes Hannah, we’ve agreed on this several times now.”

Linking arms, we amble through the backstreets alongside Veronese residents, feeling smug when an Italian asks us for directions. “That must mean we look like we live here,” we congratulate each other, before consulting our map to navigate the way back to our boudoir.

The next morning we start as we mean to go on: eating. Palazzo Victoria’s breakfast is best enjoyed in its pretty little shaded courtyard, with a glass of Prosecco, a strong double espresso, and freshly prepared Italian donuts filled with a surprise burst of oozing custard.

After a second spritz- and church-packed day, we return to the same courtyard for our evening meal at Borsari 36, the hotel’s restaurant. Inside it’s small and bright, with an open kitchen. Having succumbed somewhat to the romance of the city, we opt for a table for two in the now candlelit courtyard. To a shoulder-jiggling soundtrack of 1920s music, we embark on a multi course meal, starting with the restaurant’s signature dish “The Egg”. The egg in question is cooked slowly at 70 degrees before being dunked into a simple yet utterly delicious amatriciana sauce. Organic beef tartare, a dish typical of the region, is next: lightly flavoured with garlic and parsley, it’s large enough to share (we refrain from feeding each other, for the sake of our fellow diners, and our own sanity). More beef follows, this time roasted soft and tender, thinly sliced and served with simple grilled vegetables, accompanied by a glass of the sommelier’s choice of vino tinto. It’s a culinary highlight of the trip. A grappa and coffee softens the full feeling before we head out into the town again for a happy midnight wander over the river.

Over two days in the city we cross the famous Ponte Pietra bridge at least ten times. As we crossed it again late that night, I realise it’s impossible for a city as beautiful as Verona to not rub off on even as hopeless an unromantic as me. I grab my boyfriend’s hands, gaze longingly into his eyes and whisper lustily into his ear: “Come on, let’s get an ice cream.”

Who said romance is dead? C

Palazzo Victoria, Via Adua, 8, 37121, Verona, Italy
+39 045 590566; palazzovictoria.com

Burgers and Bruce is a travel, food and music blog with a side serving of burgers and Bruce Springsteen