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Today we'll be spending a relaxing few hours gazing out at the Italian countryside from a train as we travel to Florence. We get to the station in plenty of time. It's very big and crowded and there are nearly 30 platforms. We look for Florence on the departure board, but to no avail. I go to what looks to me like an information booth, but it turns out to be an American Express office. It must look like this to everyone because there's a sign out the front that says "this is not an information booth". It adds that there is one at the other end of the station. The real booth has a queue that looks like it will take hours to clear. I follow a sign to another booth, but that one's still being built. We now have about five minutes until our train's due to leave, and we still have no idea which of the 30 platforms we're supposed to be on. I decide to ask random strangers for help. The first two don't speak any English, and when I thrust our tickets at them they make vague gestures towards the platforms. I walk on. I swear
loudly. Unlike a few seconds ago I now hope that no one anywhere near me can understand English. We now only have about two minutes to work out where to go. I spot a man in a Tren Italia uniform smoking a cigarette outside, and plead with him for help. He asks me what our train's ultimate destination is. I tell him that I don't know, and it doesn't say on the ticket. He points to a five digit code hidden in amongst pages of text, and says that we need to look for this on the departure board. We now have 30 seconds to get to the train. We hear an announcement confirming its imminent departure. I tell Issy that we need to sprint. Our platform is not close. We throw our bags into the carriage and dive in as it moves off. That was way too close for comfort. This is not the relaxing start to the day that we were looking forward to.
A TV monitor shows that our locomotive is going at more than 240 kilometres per hour most of the time. We spend a lot of time going through tunnels, and these make my
ears pop even more than they do on planes. I'm now worried about Issy's ears. She had ear trouble when we left home and it's only just cleared up. Her doctor warned her to take a lot of precautions when she was flying, including wearing ear plugs, but I don't remember him saying anything about what to do on trains.
The countryside is beautiful and looks remarkably green given the heat. We pass seemingly never-ending fields of grape vines, and the odd cute ancient looking hilltop village.
Our top floor Florence hotel room has a balcony with views of the cathedral, which looks to be only 100 metres or so away. We have a snack in the main piazza. Issy's feeling a bit seedy so I set out exploring on my own. I pass the Palazzo Vecchio with its town hall and famous tower, and continue across the Ponte Vecchio and up the hill to Piazzale Michelangelo. The views of the city from up here as the sun starts to set are stunning.
Florence feels very different to Rome. It seems small and compact, and we don't feel quite as much as though we’re going to get
run over every time we try to cross the street. It also feels very much more upmarket, and there doesn't seem to be any shortage of fancy fashion and jewellery shops. I try to remember exactly where they all are so that we can keep well away from them. It also feels hotter than Rome, which we didn't think would be possible.
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