I recently spent an enjoyable week in Bergamo! I fell right into the atmosphere and didn't want to resurface when it came time to pack my bags and leave! The hotel I stayed at was the Excelsior San Marco in the Lower City (Citta Bassa) directly beneath the all-imposing view of the Upper City (Citta Alta); the old and the even older parts of Bergamo!

Every evening after my work had finished I would shun the local Funicolare, the tram service that navigated the steep climb to the upper city and climb the many cobbled steps to the top. Walking around the winding streets first I would work up an appetite, mulling over the varied choice of small pasta places to eat at!

NB: At this point I would like to make it clear that Bergamo does not associate with or have any connection to Bergamo Pizza & Pasta; Kennesaw, Atlanta: "Your friendly neighborhood pizza place"!

Bergamo restaurants do not resemble a Pizza Hut or serve up tinned pasta and certainly do not have plastic chairs and an "eat all you can for five-pound menu"! The food and eateries in Bergamo are special! They are steeped in history, run by families and passed down through the generations. They are often snuggled into or under the many floors of a 300 year old stone structure that balances faithfully on one of the steep and winding streets and they come resplendent with local specialties, regular customers, great wines and a plate full of polenta (a mushy mass of corn meal, the staple food of Northern Italy - the "poor mans" meal but now widely served up in a variety of disguises!)

Most of the tourists to Bergamo seem to be Italians as invariably I was the only non-Italian speaking customer present amongst the five or six tables that most establishments cater for! In fact most of the customers seemed to know each other, a gossip meeting in progress and between trying to decipher the menu and watch expressions I would sip wine and enjoy the atmosphere in style!

My favorite spot was Trattoria Da Ornellas nestled along Via Gombito and were pasta is served up with a flourish by an 'electric' waiter! The first time I ate there I chose a plate of Tagliolini and whilst waiting I opted to ignore the domed heap of Polenta and to attack the fresh bread residing in a basket on the table! And when in Rome do as the Romans do