Advertisement
Published: April 4th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Florence at Night
Taken on our last night in Florence as we crossed the river on our way back to our hostel The first leg of our latest journey was Florence. When Lucy talked to her relations and friends about moving with me to Italy for a few months, they almost unanimously suggested living in Florence instead of Rome. Rome is big, busy and dirty. It can be a bit overwhelming for some, and Florence is smaller and simply gorgeous. To get a good feel for the area, our first act was to climb to the top of the highest hill around for a panoramic view. We stropped up onto Forte Belvedere, a good Km. or two out of town. The Tuscan hills are simply amazing, and we spent most of the day walking around among them. Castles and churches dotted all the hills around us and Florence was nestled in the valley below. From this amazing vantage, we watched the day turn into dusk.
Walking back down into the town, the minor cold I'd caught in the Roman rain started dragging me down into weariness. Running out of steam, I made Lucy go back to our hostel early so I could pass out. We slept from 8PM until after 9 the next morning, wasting a night out on the town but making me feel great. Raring to go, we spent the next day seeing the city itself. Although Florence doesn't have the same antique ruins as Rome, it is bristling with cathedrals, churches, museums and amazingly beautiful hills. The city is more beautiful and peaceful than Rome, but not quite as interesting. Two things stand out in particular as being separate and special from the rest of the Roman sights I'd seen yet were the David and the river at night.
Our third day out, we decided to start seeing some of the important museums in the city. Florence is the home of Michelangelo, and has some of his most beautiful and important works. We'd already seen the Sistine Chapel on an amazing private tour with Nigel, and painting wasn't even Michelangelo's first love. Sculpture was, so we made a big effort to go to the Academia della Belle Arte. As a mixed blessing, it was culture week in Florence, making all the public museums and parks free. But BUSY. There were lines around the block for both the Academia and the Galleria Uffizi, another important bastion of high art. We managed to make it into the Academia, but the Uffizi closed before we could get through the line.
But back to the Academia: the David was amazing. The reproductions, no matter how accurate, simply don't so it justice. The most amazing part for me was the humanity that Mich (we're tight like that; and I'm getting tired of typing the whole thing) managed to impart to the colossal statue. David has his weight a bit more on one foot than the other, casual and slightly vulnerable. He certainly looks more like a young man than a giant killing king that he's purported to be in the bible. Simply stunning, and the creation of David made Mich instantly one of the most celebrated artists of his time. And for good reason, in my opinion.
We only had an hour or so in the Academia, and didn't make it to the Ufizi. So we decided to turn in early, get up early, and get to the Ufizi before it opens to queue up before the hordes. We bought a bottle of Campari, and retired to our hostel to get a good night's sleep. Our roommates introduce themselves; giant Swedes named Emile and Peter. We chat for a bit, then they start playing a card game and Lucy and I play dice. I teach her a dice game that she immediately wins, then wins, then wins again. Tired of getting destroyed by someone that's just learned a game that I've been playing for the better part of a decade, I talk the Swedes into joining us for a different dice game. By this point, Lucy and I are most of the way through the Campari and have moved onto beer provided by our enormous new friends. We drink a bit too much, and make our first bad decision of the evening, which is to go out to a bar.
The Swedes grab the first round of beers and a nice table outside for chit chat. They turn out to be quite young, but very interesting. The conversation lasts for a couple hours and several more rounds, before we make our second bad decision of the night and go to a nightclub. The club's quite a walk away, and the disco is packed. Lucy and I are dancing and having a good time, when I suddenly realize we've lost the Swedes. Not knowing the way back to our hostel, I whip my head around in a mild panic of desertion. I never should've worried. Floating above the crowd are two massive Swedish heads. They're a good 6 inches taller than anyone else in the room, and loom over the Italians like the saints in their churches. Very comforting for those of us too drunk to keep track of people.
2 o'clock came early and with a vengeance. Italian clubs don't close, but our hostel locks it's doors. So we run. And run. And run. I think we were doing OK until then, but all the physical activity definitely freaks our systems out a bit. We make it back just before they lock the doors, and make it upstairs just before nausea hits. The next day is rough. Far short of getting up early, we sleep in until they throw us out. Then we stumble down to the nearest beautiful park and sleep the day away. Disappointed about the Ufizi, we have to move on to Cinque Terre.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.11s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 15; qc: 25; dbt: 0.0344s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb