Picture perfect Parma

As I closed my eyes and listened to the dulcet tunes of Giuseppe Verdi’s opera, La Traviata, ringing out across the cobbled square, somewhere far off a church bell was ringing plaintively. It could have been 2015 or it could have been 1815.

Time had stood still. And I was so glad.

I was visiting the Italian city of Parma – famed for its gastronomy as well as for being the duchy where legendary composer Giuseppe was born.

In fact – or so the guide told me – the day I was visiting, October 10, was his 202nd birthday. So Parma was celebrating him more than usual and at every beautiful corner, versions of his great works rang out.

Wishing the musical genius a silent happy birthday, I closed my eyes once more and listened to the mesmerising sounds emanating from the nearby Teatro Regio di Parma – the Royal Theatre – which regularly hosts operas and performances.

It only seemed fitting to pay homage to Giuseppe, so I headed to the Teatro Regio. And as I stepped inside, I gasped audibly.

The auditorium is simply breathtaking, with plush red velvet seats, a royal box and golden walls adorning its interior. An enormous chandelier hangs from the centre of the vast ceiling and every centimetre of this beautiful place screams opulence.

I was lucky enough to get into the box high up over the audience and see how the more affluent guests view operas. As a theatre worker swept the stage for that night’s performance, I sighed and promised myself that I’d be back one day to watch a show myself.

Next stop was the magnificent Parma Cathedral. Construction on this Romanesque church began in 1059 and its crowning glory – quite literally, since it covers the inside walls of the cathedral’s dome – is the intricate illusionistic fresco, Assumption of the Virgin, by Renaissance painter Correggio.

As I gazed up at the painting, 30 metres above the floor on which I stood, I marvelled at how much Correggio’s neck must have hurt creating it!

Parma isn’t just about opera and churches. Not only was I there on Giuseppe’s birthday, but I was also present during the biannual Mercanteinfiera, a huge international fair of antiques and vintage collectibles that takes place every spring and autumn.

And what a fair it is! The oldest of its kind in Europe, it runs for nine days and also features retro and modern furniture as well as fashion and jewellery items. My ticket gave me access to seemingly endless pavilions of food and a range of luxury and vintage cars. Suffice it to say that the fair is a collector’s – and shopper’s – paradise.

The vintage pavilion was packed with everything from timeless fashion finds by Chanel, suitcases from Louis Vuitton, Hermès scarves and shiny silver cutlery, while the antique pavilion contained a vast amount of artwork, chandeliers and furniture that would look incredible in any discerning home.

But my favourite stop was the car pavilion. I wandered among bright-red Ferraris, a fleet of vintage BMWs, and Italian classics such as the oh-so-cute Fiat 500 or the Cinquecento. An organiser explained that around 50,000 visitors attend each edition and exhibitors come from all over the world.

After an entire day at the fair, interspersed with several Italian coffee pit-stops, I had dinner that night at a Michelin-starred trattoria – Ai Due Platani – in Coloreto. The unimposing building might lead you to think it’s an everyday trattoria. It is anything but.

I dined like a queen on Italian antipasti and breads, tortellini alla zucca (pumpkin tortellini) and saffron and aubergine risotto. As for dessert – a chef emerged from the kitchen, wheeling a trolley heaving with a mountain of yellow, creamy, home-made ice cream. Alongside this mountain sat bowls of hazelnuts, ground almonds, chocolate-covered raisins and much more.

‘What would you like, signora?’ he asked.

‘Everything!’ I said.

My helping was so enormous, it was probably visible from space. A mound of ice cream was covered by piles and piles of chocolates and nuts. I politely said there was no way I could eat it all, before gobbling up the lot!

After an incredible meal, sleep came easily and I was up bright and early the following day for more tours of the city and the chance to explore Parma’s shops and streets. Locals – the Parmense – walked around in groups, while older people sipped coffee on terraces. I wandered in and out of a maze of streets lined with bookshops, food shops, stores selling handbags and leather ware, as well as more mainstream Italian boutiques for lingerie, make-up and perfumes.

Afterwards I headed to the baroque Teatro Farnese, famed because it is made entirely of wood. It is a museum now, but in its heyday in the 1600s, it hosted performances for Italy’s elite.

Having spent the days in something of a timeless trance, when the time came to leave Parma, it was with great sadness that I packed my case. The city is not on the tourist trail – it certainly does not compare to the more famous cities such as Venice, Florence and Rome – and yet it has so much to offer.

The Parmense are friendly and polite, and restaurant owners only too eager to offer you a little taste of their wares – followed by generous portions! So, as I boarded my plane, La Traviata echoing in my head, I made a promise to the opera man himself.

‘I’ll be back next year on your 203rd birthday, Giuseppe,’ I said.

And that’s a promise I will keep.