Molte Avventure da Solo

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My Day in Florence
I am on autobus linea 571 and will cambio a linea 75 at the fermata dei Colleseo. I am on my way to the train station. The bus just stopped at Area Sacre, which is where Julius Caesar died; and there are cats living there now, well-fed cats cared for by a below ground cat sanctuary; I can see a fat black and white cat sitting atop a column! We have been walking around enough that I can tell my way around; the bus is going past familiar sites. We are now going over very bumpy cobblestone exactly where we spent some time lost two days ago . . . we are now at the Forum; out the window I can see parts of the “Fori” that we missed during the pouring rain. I am tempted to get off. I will change buses in a few minutes at the Coliseum, and a few more fermati after that I will be at Termini, hopefully with enough time to make the 11:30 train.

I am now on the train! There was a long line at the ticket counter, but I was able to get a ticket in just a few minutes at a machine and made the 11:30 train with 5 minutes to spare. Today I am going to Florence (Firenze) by myself. I don’t know when I’ll be in Italy again, so I wanted to be sure to see Florence. Everyone else had other plans today, so it is a solo adventure.

I am now sitting in a pretty courtyard outside of the bookstore of the Galleria dell’Academia, which is where Michelangelo’s David is displayed. It was moved here in 1873, having previously been displayed outside of the Palazzo Vecchio (my next destination as there are still other famous statues on display.) There was absolutely no wait for admission, a fact which actually caused me to walk around the block twice, because I expected at least a short line, and it is a pretty nondescript entrance. Guess what . . . #58 again! David is impressive, that is certain. I also liked the unfinished sculptures in the preceding gallery; it appears as if the figures are being born from the marble. The David sculpture is beautiful, the definition of his muscles in contrast with the calmness of his gaze. I saw several enraptured women spend quite a bit of time looking at him and wondered if perchance they are happy for an excuse to unabashedly gaze upon . . . a handsome fellow.

When I arrived in Florence this morning, it was only a short walk to Florence’s centerpiece, the Duomo. The exterior is breathtaking! Especially coming upon it suddenly from the narrow streets (yes, even more narrow than Rome; but thankfully, with fewer cars.) It is a must-see . . . no pictures that I have seen do it justice; many of the pictures don’t even look like the same structure! It is green and white stripes, and the exterior flourishes are aptly described as “a wedding cake.” I did not expect to like it as much as I do; it’s somewhat magical and being so closed in by surrounding structures somehow just makes it more so. The interior is, in contrast, quiet and subdued. At least, compared to the Basilica de San Pietro! The floor is a beautiful mosaic, the ceilings are shaped in that curved manner that I associate with the renaissance (I’m sure it has some formal architectural name.) There are only a few statues and pretty windows, and it has a calm feel about it. Until you get to the dome and look up; there is a fantastic mural on the ceiling; I had not expected it and was struck by how lifelike and distinct the figures are. I missed the Sistine Chapel, but at least I got to see this! I spent some more time walking outside and then headed here to see David, grabbing some lunch along the way; a foccaccio verdute mista and a can of beer, which I enjoyed while sitting in the sun at the piazza de Santissima Annunzieta.

I am now sitting amid sculptures in the piazza outside of the Palazzo Vecchio. I am sitting next to one of several statues named “Sabine”; I chose the thoughtful one who has managed to retain all of her limbs. A young woman sitting next to me is sketching the nearby victorious Persues holding Medusa’s severed head.

On my way here I did a “walk-by” of the Chiesa Dante and Casa de Dante. Also walked to the river and snapped some photos of the Ponte Vecchio while the sun was setting, with a few boaters in the water. It was very picturesque. The river through Florence is called Fiume Arno. I had walked through this piazza en route to the river and chose this spot as a good one to return to for writing. No eating, drinking, or smoking allowed makes it a less popular spot for sitting. So it is just me, the sketch artist, and a couple snuggling in the far corner. Everyone else just passes through after taking a photo. It is definitely a location that has guaranteed me some immortality in other people’s photo albums.

On my way back here to write, I looked rather longingly at the Uffuzi gallery; I would have loved to spend some hours in that museum, but didn’t want to rush through anything today. I will have to find the local superstition for ensuring a return to Florence!

I have enjoyed my hours here, and I am glad that I came. This city definitely has a very different feel than Rome and it has been fun to feel and see the difference. The architecture is so different, the streets are even more narrow, the drivers a bit less nutty (and there are fewer of them.) The pace feels a bit slower, the shlockhockers are less intense. It is a much smaller city, no need to take the bus. The clothing shops are even more exclusive and expensive looking; several even have “no photos” signs as if they are worried you’ll steal their designs.

I am now in a restaurant called Maioli, on Via de Guiceiardini, which is on the opposite side of the river from where I was last sitting. I bought Mom a really nice watercolor from an artist who was painting outside of Galleria deglio Uffuzi. I talked to him about my mother’s paintings and he let me take a photo of a painting in-progress, as well as a painting of him and his easel. This will be Mom’s Christmas present if I can wait that long. I just hope I can get this home intake and NOT LOSE IT! I bought Italian glass jewelry for the Nelson Christmas “Yankee swap,” after passing by more gold stores than I have ever seen; they line the entire length of the Ponte Vecchio. I bought the girls some t-shirts at a store so targeted to Americans that it is called “T-shirt Heaven”. I then walked a few more blocks to do a walk-by of Palazzo Pitti. It is immense! It was the home of the Medici family and the home of Tuscany’s rulers from 1550 until in modern times it was transformed into five museums, which I will need to see on another visit.

I have enjoyed a simple dinner of fresh mozzarella and grilled eggplant and I will get a canoli “to go” for the train. My train leaves in about 50 minutes, and I’d like to walk past the Duomo all lit up, so I’ll take slightly less direct route to the station. But the city is so small, I’ll have plenty of time. Florence truly packs the most sightseeing per square mile that I’ve ever seen. Quite a compact city and I am pleased to have visited during slow season, because (familiar refrain by now) I can’t imagine the streets or sights being as enjoyable if packed with tourists.

I Needed The Excercise Anyway . . .
Ahh…a little more excitement to report. I have learned that Florence is not only a good walking city; it is also a good running city.

I packed up my belongings at 6:45, allowing 45 minutes to have a leisurely stroll to the station via Duomo. Unfortunately, the credit card reader at the restaurant was broken. I had specifically chosen this restaurant because it took credit cards as I was down to my last five euro. With time ticking by as he continued to retry, I asked for the nearest bank machine. He was rather vague on the subject but I packed up my stuff (including my cannoli to go) and looked for a bank machine. When the time hit 7:10 and I had not found one I decided to do something I have never done . . . I ran out on my check. Rather literally. It wasn’t as frenzied as my tear through the Phoenix airport with the Girl Scout cookies (another great story) but let’s just say that I didn’t get much of a view of the Palazzo de Republic as I dashed through its arch; that one was a “run-by”. I got to the station at 7:28 for my 7:31 train. It was quite a workout and I’m glad I had a tank top under my sweater . . . I’m just now cooling down.

I am pleased to say that the cannoli is unscathed and that I did NOT lose Mom’s painting. I planned to attempt to find the address of the restaurant on the Internet (I had written down the name and the address in the journal) but just saw that I accidentally packed up the paper that was around the silverware and it has the address on it. I have decided that is a sign that no bad karma will be attached to running out on the check; I will send a payment from home. With that resolve, I will now, without any guilt, enjoy my cannoli.

Fun Florence Facts
I bought a book for Ann Marie’s classroom called “Florence . . . Just Add Water” a kid’s history of Florence. It’s fabulous. Just read this, in reference to the unfinished statues that I wrote about a few pages ago: “Michelangelo thought that the statues were already living in the blocks of marble, ‘imprisoned in the stone’ waiting for the sculptor to liberate them.” Cool.

Also learned that the ceiling style I referred to is called Gothic, and was used because it supports more weight and therefore allowed for larger structures to be built. And the ceiling of the Duomo? It’s a mural of the Last Judgement.

Another cool fact: The Ponte Vecchio used to have tradesmen who polluted the river with the waste of their trade: tanners, butchers, blacksmith. At the end of the 1500s, Duke Ferdinando kicked them off and reserved the spaces for goldsmiths, who would not be tossing waste into the river. That’s why there are all those gold shops; I wondered why it was every one! That bridge was also the only one in Florence that was not bombed by the Germans during WW II.

Another Bus Adventure
(and . . . where is the velcro when you need it?)
Got back here to the hotel at 11pm after a bit of a miscalculation on my transport home from the train station. I decided to take a bus rather than a cab, and wanted to see the Coliseum and Forum all lit up at night so I took the 75 and figured I’d change trains to another to get to San Pietro. Well, the Coliseum was indeed breathtaking at night. But then I got a little confused in the dark and missed the stop to change to a San Pietro bus. I made friends with yet another woman on the bus who was a great help.

She did not have a lot of English so it was another chance for me to be glad that Jenn got me that Italian course on CD. She suggested that I get off at her stop (by now were in a residential area) and change trains there. Well, guess what I did when I got off the bus? I left the painting for my mother on the bus! I realized it immediately and expressed anguish in the universal language (I rolled my eyes and smacked my forehead in an expression of self-disgust) and at first she thought I had left my pocketbook. I did eventually get across that it was a gift for my mother (which also resonated with her) then got across that it was a painting and the woman happens to be an artist! So she helped me retrieve it; there were only two more stops on the bus so we followed it, and it was waiting there before turning around to restart its route! So we got on the bus, I retrieved my package, we took the bus back to her stop, and she showed me to the stop where I could get on the line to San Pietro. However, after she left me there and headed to her house, I waited about 10 minutes before throwing in the towel on my cheap transportation plan . . . and hailed a taxi! 10 Euros well spent by that point!



Star-Gazing
(no, not Tom Cruise)
By the time I got back to the hotel, everyone was asleep so I didn’t get to join them for a nightcap as originally planned. So I had a solo end to my solo day, enjoying a beer out of the honor bar fridge. I sat looking out of our “dorm” window for one last time. It was a clear night; the stars that could withstand the city light of Rome were on display. I was surprised to see Orion rising above the building across the street. I’m sure he was in a different position in the sky than at home, but he was still a nice familiar sight!

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Photos

Italian Countryside
The view from the train

The Duomo
The Bell Tower at the Duomo . . . and the gorgeous sky.

The Last Judgement
The ceiling of the dome.

Piazza Vecchio
The view from my seat within the sculpture area of the piazza; you can see David gazing in (it's a copy) and Hercules and from the back you can see Perseus with Medusa.

Mediterranean Blue
The color of the sky at dusk was so striking; this only gives a hint.