One of the highlights of our stay in Verona was, of course, Aida at the Arena. That was the main event, and quite an event it was.
But there was another discovery which, in its own rather different way, was just as memorable: San Zeno.
We had wanted to see the Basilica of San Zeno for years. And, rather embarrassingly, we had never actually got round to it. The reason is partly that it isn’t right in the centre of Verona. It is a little way out, and somehow, on previous visits, it had always been one of those places that we would get round to seeing “next time”.
Well, this time we finally did.
And I have to say, we were absolutely bowled over.
San Zeno is the patron saint of Verona, and his basilica is quite simply one of the great Romanesque buildings of Italy. In fact, I would put it among the most beautiful buildings we have seen anywhere in the country. It has that wonderful quality that some medieval buildings possess: enormous solidity, but at the same time an extraordinary elegance and sense of proportion.
And then there is the rose window — the famous Wheel of Fortune, dating from the 12th century. It is a wonderful thing, both artistically and symbolically, because the whole idea is that fortune is continually turning: one moment you’re on top, the next you’re at the bottom. Rather appropriate, really, for human life.

But what really stopped me in my tracks were the bronze doors.
They are made up of dozens of individual bronze panels, put together almost like a gigantic medieval comic book — except that this is one of the world’s great works of medieval art. They tell the stories of the Bible and the Scriptures through pictures, at a time when most people couldn’t read.

You can get very close to them. Almost ridiculously close. You can practically touch them.
Of course, you shouldn’t touch them. But you could.
And I couldn’t help thinking: Good heavens, surely these things are worth protecting a little better than this? They are priceless works of art, and yet you can stand there with your nose almost against them. Perhaps I’m being unnecessarily alarmist, but I certainly wouldn’t want to be the person who accidentally fell against one of them!
Inside, the basilica is magnificent. Great columns, enormous arches, pinky marble stone everywhere, and that slightly mysterious darkness which seems to belong to Romanesque churches. It has a tremendous sense of weight and age without being gloomy.

And then, of course, comes Mantegna.
His magnificent triptych, painted around 1457–1459, is one of the great masterpieces of the early Renaissance. The Madonna and Child sit in the centre, surrounded by saints, with Mantegna creating this extraordinary architectural space around them. You can almost see Renaissance painting taking off before your eyes.

And underneath all this is the crypt.
It is glorious in its own right — and it contains the remains of San Zeno himself. So you have, in effect, the whole history of the place underneath your feet: the saint, the medieval church, the Romanesque basilica and then the Renaissance masterpiece above.

The Basilica of San Zeno also has a very beautiful cloister. I loved the olive tree in one corner

Dante spent time in Verona during his exile, and San Zeno was part of the medieval city that he would have known. You suddenly become aware that this isn’t merely an old church that happens to contain some wonderful works of art. This is a place that has been part of Verona’s life for something like 1,500 years.
Rather stupidly, we discovered that there was something else we should have seen.
The Ponte di Castelvecchio, the wonderful fortified bridge over the Adige, is not far away.
By this stage we were absolutely exhausted. The heat had finally caught up with us. There comes a moment on a sightseeing trip when another magnificent monument is no longer a cultural opportunity but simply another bloody thing to walk to.
So we missed the bridge.
But perhaps that isn’t such a bad thing.
It means we have to come back.
And, frankly, Verona is hardly somewhere you need an excuse to revisit. I think it must be one of the most beautiful cities in Italy. It has the Arena, the Adige, the medieval centre, the Scaligeri, Shakespeare, Dante — and now, for us, San Zeno.
It is also the city where one of my favourite English writers on Italy, Tim Parks, lives.
So that was San Zeno.
We finally got there after all these years, and it turned out to be every bit as wonderful as we had hoped.
We just forgot to visit the bridge.
Which, I suppose, is Verona’s way of telling us that we haven’t finished with the place yet.

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