Perched at the edge of the foothills of the Italian Alps is the small city of Bergamo. It calls itself an "Alpine Village", but this is mostly hype; while it's very pleasant, and a portion of the city is elevated somewhat, it is certainly not alpine by most definitions of the word. It IS charming, however, and we enjoyed our entry into Europe by spending a couple of days in one of our favorite places in the world: Italy.
We surprised ourselves by avoiding car rentals and taxis, walking wherever we wanted to go. After five years in the U.S. it was nice to discover we still had legs. Unfortunately, it was hot as hell both days we were resident, so walking wasn't all it should be, but we stuck to our guns, so to speak. Our hotel was close to the airport, but the newer—and lower—part of Bergamo was an easy stroll away. Be prepared to walk through some of the industrial district to get there.
One of the things we noticed right away is the number of immigrants. Italy is full of them as it's a favorite country of entry into the EU. The good news is that they all eventually migrate to the UK. (Just kidding, UK.) They are easily profiled as they don't look at all Italian and are thus not entirely welcomed by residents, who, like residents everywhere, suspect recent arrivals of loose morals and contributing to the crime rate, taking away jobs, etc. I will say, however, that the level of tolerance is higher in Europe toward just about everything than in the U.S.
You have noted by now that there are two Bergamos, with the older, walled city looking down on the newer part. Essentially, as it is in so many cities, the higher you go the fancier things get. There are funicular rails that at nominal cost will lift you up the escarpment into the old city, although there is a bus route as well for those wanting to keep their wheels on the ground. Movie buffs will observe that a scene from an award-winning foreign film Il Postino (foreign to the U.S., at any rate) was shot at one of the Funicular stations in the old city, where we enjoyed a delightful chilled wine and snacks for a ridiculously inexpensive 11 euro. Now that I mention it, we found the city to be very inexpensive, especially considering the quality you enjoy.
Italy is unchanging; it still offers the best food in the world, bar none. This is obviously an opinion, but it's my blog, so there. After five years in the U.S. we had forgotten what pasta was supposed to taste like; how wine can illuminate your spirit without clogging the senses, or how good, professional service can make you welcome instead of pushing you aside to make room for another seating. We ate fresher vegetables prepared just-so, cheeses that were to die for, breads that fully qualified to be so called, and fruit that actually tasted like it was supposed to. Did I mention the ice cream? Honest-to-Pete, if Americans had any taste buds left they would have rioted against their food industries and preparers generations ago for the sacrilege they commit.
We're going back to the region before leaving Europe this summer and are looking forward to spending more time in the surrounding mountains; at the lakes (Como is near, among others), and in some of Italy's great cities (Bergamo is 45 km from Milano). The only downside to northern Italy is that the English, whom, despite their peculiar affinity for the bizarre and their propensity toward weird, manufactured foods, have recognized a good thing when they see it and have now occupied much of Tuscany. (Well, wouldn't you?). Fortunately, they tend to clump together, so they can be avoided. (Just kidding, UK.)
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