Trieste is one corner of Italy I can avoid — like James Joyce, its adopted son
My Roman friends wax on about it as if it’s Italy’s version of Atlantis. It has the largest seaside piazza in Italy. It has terrific remains of a Roman amphitheater and an arch commemorating England’s King Richard who allegedly passed through here on his return from the Crusades. Even one of my former female Italian instructors marveled about the long-legged women. So I made Trieste the second stop of a May Adriatic tour. I had three goals: to knock off No. 17 from my around-Italy tour, to confirm Trieste as one of the most beautiful cities in a country full of them and to desecrate any memory of a tormentor of my college lit classes and a Trieste native for 16 years, James Joyce.