The province of Treviso is my ancestral homeland, on my father’s side. The medieval city with its walls, moat and canals has a unique charm. I spent three hours this morning walking through the city.
The Gate of St Thomas on the north side of the city was completed in 1518, and the cathedral is the latest version of something going back to late Roman times. The restaurant I lunched in yesterday is in a building from the 1400s. And for a while there, Treviso was an independent city state before it voluntarily chose to join the Venetian republic.
This really is a world away from Melbourne suburbia, where finding a horseshoe from a milk cart buried under 50 years of bitumen is the most historically significant encounter you are likely to have.