Revealing the Renaissance--Ferrara

Let's forget about yesterday shall we?  Today the sun came out and it was almost warm for my last full day this trip.  I went to Ferrara and had a good time.
I had a hard time deciding where to go, but I am glad I picked Ferrara. I'd certainly like to return and spend a few days there.  It's a lovely, historic--and easy place.  Because my time is so limited, I stuck to the palazzi of the Este Family. Yes, we met them in Modena, too.
Castello Estense dominates the center of town.  Now it's a Renaissance castle, not a Medieval one, but it is a true fortress--moat and all.  While most of the building is given over to city and regional offices within you will find the tourist information office and a museum that gives a glimpse into the life styles of the rich and ducal.  One thing I appreciated is the commentary in English on the purposes of the rooms and the history of the family.
I stopped for some gelato on my way to the next palazzo.  I got two traditional Italian favorites--crema--which was very like licking lemon frosting, and straticella which has choco bits.
It was a long walk out to the Palazzo Shifanoia, but Ferrara is very well sign posted.  This is the Este Family's "Palace of Joy."  Not all the rooms were open, so I got in free.  The frescos by Cosme Ture create an Arcadian World of elegant leisure.
Then I trudged back through town to the Palazzo Diamante.  It's an interesting building in itself, and one instantly realizes how it got its name, and no it's not shaped like a diamond, but the exterior looks rather like facets.  I wanted to see the art museum, but I am not having much luck with these, because I arrived just as it was closing.  Unreasonably early in my opinion.  It was only 2:00!
There's a whole lot more to Ferrara, and I barely scratched the surface, so as I said, I'd like to stay there a day or two.
Something interesting happened on the train ride back to Bologna.  The good looking guy who took the seat opposite me turned out to be train police.  He had luggage with him.  A cover?  And I could not help but notice he had two cell phones.  Now that seemed excessive even for Europeans, but later I figured one was personal and the other for work.  I also noticed he had no ticket.  He flashed something at the conductor, but I thought it must be a pass.  No such thing.  It was a badge.
I learned this when we stopped at one of Bologna's suburban stations.  The conductor insisted one passenger get off as his ticket was for this station.  The guy--who sounded like he was on drugs--refused.  And refused and kept refusing.
That's when my seatmate went into action.  He showed his badge and told the guy to get off and there was some other stuff in Italian that sounded like threats and fines.  The guy refused yet again.
One of the other passengers took pity on the man--or else just wanted the train to move--and paid his fare.  The train policeman was disgusted.  I would have been, too.
Ciao