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ptpgradHere is the next installment, where our heroine finds herself in Florence...
Italy day 4, Florence
NOT ALL BREAKFASTS ARE ALIKE
So this morning was my first in morning in Florence and I had a tour scheduled at 8:15 at the Academia to see David and friends. I got up around 7am and headed downstairs to the basement level for breakfast. I had decided to brave wearing a skirt today and have a layer of leggings underneath to keep me warm. The meal was much more limited given my issues: Breads, fruit, yogurt, cereal with milk, orange juice, butter, chocolate spreads, and coffee. I got a coffee and filled it half way with hot chocolate, got a croissant and got their version of Nutella (different company of chocolate hazelnut spread) with a glass of water. I was buzzing from the sugar and caffeine and a bit uncomfortable, but it was what they had. I sat alone in the space and watched a lot of couples and groups eating together. I felt like I was getting looked at. It felt weird. I did like that the lower level was all blues and whites. No windows, but it was pretty.
VESPAS VESPAS EVERYWHERE AND NOT A DROP TO DRINK
So my hotel was just down the road by a 15-minute walk to the Academia, the closest major attraction, and where I was to start my day. I slowly strolled down the road with the locals walking to work. I had about ½ hour till the tour started, but I had to be there a bit early to be ready and earlish in line. The walk had a comfy feeling to it. Along the streets were huge lines of Vespas parked. Since the roads are small in Florence, there isn’t a lot room for vehicles, so they are naturally smaller and even smaller still are the motorbikes, everyone seems to drive them. I passed hundreds of them all over the city. It was a strange sight. I passed a sign to a small theater company, local shops, and a botanical garden, as well as a University building or two. I also passed a theater (though not open) and a botanical garden. Nice for pictures.
TIME, BUT NOT TIME
I get there and see a sign on the door that says that they are having an all staff meeting and won’t be opening till 10:15. Um, that’s 2 hours after my time. I am getting a bit worried that I will lose my slot. A woman is exiting the museum and getting onto a bicycle and I stop her and ask (after finding out if she speaks English) if I will still be able to get in at 10:15. She goes in and checks for me. She comes back out and says since I am just a singular person, it should be no problem. Now, I have time to kill, as it’s a bit chilly and it would be a waste to sit outside a museum for 2 hours when the city of Florence is still before me. I pull out my Rick Steeves book for Florence and look at what is nearby. One of the things he notes is that there is a wildly overlooked sculpture museum, the Bargello, which is just down the road a bit. I decide to give it a try.
BARGELLO AND THE GUARD
To enter the Bargello, you have to have your bags scanned, just to get into the lobby. Probably more logistical since there isn’t much space on the street and it consolidates things. I take off my coat and belt pouch and run them through the machine. I am good to go. It opens out into a cold open courtyard. Around the edge are sculptures, a cannon, and other architectural artistry. There are secondary rooms off the courtyard with more work, some of the more famous pieces. I take pictures in the open space of the architecture and some of the sculptures, including the one of Cosimo DiMedici as a Roman soldier. I head into one room to see that the second floor is closed. I head back across the hall to the other rooms as it’s still a bit chilly in the morning air.
RECOGNIZABLE ART
Inside this long room, I was fascinated with the sculpture. I recognized a bunch of sculpture from pictures I had seen in my youth. Michelangelo’s Baccus and Satyr and others. I am taking a few more pics when a guard comes up to me and informs me I can not take the pictures. I apologize and put my camera away. Then, I start to see even more recognizable pieces. I see a bunch of kids being brought through as part of a class. Wouldn’t that be a cool way to study art.
FROM A NEW PERSPECTIVE
I head upstairs in the cool courtyard to the second level at the top of the stairs to the right is a room with more famous sculpture, including a wall piece of St. George and the Dragon. I see the Donatello David…but, well, it’s not being displayed the way I would have expected, it’s being worked on, so it’s on its side being held in grips. I am so sad that I can’t take pictures because the image of the sculpture being held on it’s side is quite unusual and I can see angles of the art that normally we would never see. It’s fascinating. The book tells me that there is even more exciting stuff upstairs…but the 2nd floor (3rd for us) is closed. Bummer. I wander back down and head to the bathroom, which is in a basement level. In my small rebellion, after using the cold bathroom (it had an open window at the top), I saw the open janitorial closet was actually gated like a dungeon with the original wood door…so I took a picture of that. It was cool, and it was a picture inside the no picture museum…I know, not a big deal, but it makes me happy.
BACK TO THE ACADEMY LINES
It’s around 9:50 now and I have to head back up to the Academia. I am starting to get a bit hungry and don’t know how long I will be in the next museum, so I stop quickly by a tabacchi shop and get a ham and cheese (prosciutto and mozzarella) sandwich and an espresso at the bar. She heats the sandwich for me. I drink the espresso at a bar with a few others, then take the sandwich to go. Even though I am having bread, this should make it easier to stay awake. The sandwich’s melty warmth is nice in the cool air. Once I reach the Academia, my sandwich is done and the lines are rather long. This is 2 hours worth of entrances all gathered up and waiting to go in after the meeting. So much for an intimate morning. I am not sure where to stand and, after some conversation with assorted people in assorted lines, I realize the line I need is partially blocked off, because of the length. I get in it with some adjusting and a lot of others doing the same thing.
AND THE FLOOD GATES OPEN
Finally, it’s 10:15 and the doors open. The male guard at the exit door, where I am standing also comes out and asks who has reservations. I tell them mine were for two hours ago and they are about to pass me by, when they ask to see my ticket. They check I am one, and send me in the exit. It’s a bit of a free-for-all, but I go to get my tickets and am reminded I already paid for them. I just need the hard copy, to be screened, and to go in. I believe I am going in the end of the exhibit, but this will get me to David faster. Turns out, the actual museum is small and I was going in the normal way, the other side is a music history museum I look at later. I see Michelangelo’s “The Prisoners” which are half-sculpted sculptures. Bodies only partially freed from the marble. It’s fascinating to see the layers of work that go into this. One clean smooth, the next with hash marks, the next, very rough, and then rock. I make my way down past the tour groups, etc and head to the end of the hallway, to him. I stop and see all the sculpture along the way and am very impressed, but he keeps calling. I reach the end of the hallway, look up, and am stopped in my tracks.
DAVID, IN PERSON
I know I have commented about this before, but nothing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING prepared me for what this sculpture really was. Pictures show this thing as a 12-20 ft sculpture at best…and the ones around the rest of Florence are just that, but they are models, miniatures. I am craning my neck to see the top of this massive sculpture. Utterly in shock…and I begin to cry. I don’t know what caused it specifically, but this figure was truly awe-inspiring. Dear god, it was beautiful. Tears are rolling down my face. There is a long wood bench going around the back wall around the sculpture. In front, only 4 plastic/metal conference type chairs. They are still free as the space is rather empty still. I take chair to his slight left so as not to block the pathway. I just keep crying.
I AM NOT ALONE
As I sit, another woman, in her 50’s or 60’s comes toward me. She is holding a tissue in her hand, her eyes are red and swollen, and she is sniffing. She looks at me and we nod, then, she sits down next to me in the last open chair. We just stare looking up. Off to the right is a computer-generated viewer to see the sculpture in all its angles. I ask the guard how tall, and they tell me 21 meters (that’s 59 feet and change). I am dumbstruck again. I sit and analyze it’s perfection…yeah, Virgo, what a surprise. I stare at the feet, the arms, the hair, the musculature, and yes, of course, your eyes do go everywhere, but that wasn’t the fascination for me. The proportions were perfect, exceptional, real, except for the giant quality of its entirety.
THE LITTLE DETAILS
Eventually, maybe 10-15 minutes later, I stand and walk to the backside. I ended up speaking to the woman saying goodbye, it broke that moment we had and I regretted doing it. This was not a place for words. It is NOT lit as well, depressingly, and the details are harder to make out. The thing that sticks in my brain though, is the sling. I mean, sure, you are TOLD it’s David and you believe it, but what makes this giant the non-giant in the story of David and Goliath, but the sling. Draped down his back on his left side. Pictures rarely, if ever, show you the other angles and the back was not something I had seen, or if I did, I didn’t remember. This just struck me. Again, I stared at feet and other details that were meticulous. I wished we could use a camera, but it was not allowed. I was rather sad about that. I wanted something that showed it’s REAL perspective to people back home. This just didn’t do it justice.
THE REST OF LEARNING
It was starting to get crowded and I was more under control. There were some paintings in the areas around David and down the left hallway was a sculpture room. The plaster mock ups of eventual sculptures. The “learning” room of this Academia. It was fascinating how close you could get to the work, without touching it. I wanted to, desperately, sculpture cries out for being touched, but I was sure that alarms would go off if I did. My face got within inches of it without touching the art all over the city. I learned that Michelangelo was one of the first sculptors that didn’t have models, but just saw the creation in the stone. This impressed me even more with him. Unfortunately, this is when my feet started really killing me. I found chairs in corners to rest my feet a bit, but each time I had to stand again, it was hurting a lot. It was only 11ish and I still had another museum to tour, plus other things. I kept wandering hoping I could pull my Rijksmuseum trick and sit to massage my feet while I still observed or learned.
THE SOUNDS OF SITTING
I headed into the Music History museum and looked around at the instruments. I found a room with interactive computers to learn more history and sat down, took off one shoe at a time and massaged the hell out of my feet while I learned about the different musical periods. Unfortunately, the wheat was getting the better of me and I started getting VERY sleepy. This would not do. I got up and looked at the other rooms, then headed out to the bathroom. I cheated a bit and used the open HC bathroom, I think, that was on the main level, instead of going to the basement. I couldn’t tell if it was or not, as I couldn’t read the signs well. I was quick at least and no one was waiting when I came out.
THE BELLS OF THE VECCHIO
I head down toward the Uffizzi where I have my 12:30 guided tour. I stop on the way at the courtyard around the corner, the Palazzo Vecchio. There is sculpture everywhere. A mini David (not nearly as impressive), Neptune and his minions, the rape of the sabine, Hercules and the centaur, and more. As I am taking pics, as are all the other tourists, when suddenly, the bells of noon begin to ring. The birds are moving, the people are strolling and I pull out my camera and slowly circle the palazzo to the echoing bells. Wow. Just wow. I take pictures of the sculpture, again, from unusual angles, since it fascinates me to see things from other dimensions, angles you can’t get in a book. It’s almost time for the tour, so I head toward the Ufizzi.
FROZEN IN ART
There is a large courtyard that is the center area of the Uffizi. I wandered down the length of the “corridor.” There are long lines of people waiting to go in. I am so glad that I pre=bought tickets with a tour. I notice the sculpture of famous artists inset into the walls. Michelangelo, Davinci and more. I also see artists drawing and selling their own work and actors “frozen” as pharohs, priests, angels, and more. They are amusing and entertaining, but they are no De-vine or the like. I read my ticket and it notes I should meet at the __ exit. I walk across the “street” and see the office with that number. The door is locked and the woman at the desk is patently ignoring me. Joy. I turn and head down the other side of the building and see others standing looking slightly lost. Turns out these ladies from Manchester, England are for the same tour and had the same issue with the woman behind the glass. My feet are killing me, so while they are waiting in our “line” I go sit on the bench and massage my feet more. OWWWW.
TIME AT THE OFFICE
A tall goodlooking man dressed in very comfy clothing comes casually strolling down the pathway we are waiting on and stopps to chat with someone there. He then turns to us and in English introduces himself as Andreas, our guide. Um, ok. We get our whispers (though they went by another name) and head to the other side. He warns us that we have to take them off and maybe more items to go through security. I try to keep toward the front because I want to see everything. Once we get through, it’s a large number of steps or an elevator up. Um, normally, I would have done stairs, but my feet
THE PROGRESS OF ART
We are brought first into a room with 3 Madonnas and child(ren). This room shows the progression in 50 years from flat painting to the beginning of the renaissance. The change of style and detail work as they progress is amazing. Our guide, though casual, was extremely well informed. As he spoke about the work and noted items or pointed to things, he never or barely looked at the paintings. Um, wow. He knew this stuff that well. Slowly, he took us through the history of painting, mostly Italian, of the Renaissance and beyond, and mostly listed in Rick Steves’ review of the important paintings of the Uffizzi. We saw the Birth of Venus, and learned tons about the symbolism and how it was the blending of pagan and Christian philosophies; the Annunciation by DaVinci and learned about how meticulous he was, as he painted in over 500 different botanical species that have been identified in the grass; the real gold on the crowns; and the lined walls of famous people on one side and the DiMedici’s on the other wall…every one they had…which was a lot.
ALARMS OF THE ART
My feet are hurting so badly, I am squatting to try to be able to hear/see, and not give up. I wanted to sit, but I am looking for ways around it. I lean on the rail and we hear a beep. Turns out I had just set of the alarm. He asks me to not lean on the rail and the beeping stops. I hear the beeps going out every once in a while, but at least now I know it’s not me. The one thing I am noticing is that Italian men (in person) are attractive. ALL of them, even the older ones, they have charm and are just attractive…naturally attractive. And the younger ones are just gorgeous. It’s a dangerous place to be, but very pleasant. It’s quite the switch from Amsterdam where the women were pretty and the men…weren’t. Though in Italy, the women were pretty too, but the men…wow.
THE PICTURES OF THE OFFICE
Uffizzi actually stands for “the office” in Italian as this building was originally the offices of the DiMedici’s and they built an escape route. There is an inside bridge that goes from the Uffizzi to the Pitti Palace, where they lived, across the River Arno on top of the Ponte Vecchio. Should weather be bad or they wanted to get the hell out of one place or the other without people knowing, they took this hidden route to get where they needed. The Uffizzi is a big U in shape, and the short length (bottom of the U) is the only place you are allowed to take pics, mainly to take pics of the River Arno, the Ponte Vecchio, and this bridge. I took a quick moment to get a pic of the inside hallway as well as the bridge. At the far end of the hall was Maria DiMedici’s pic. That was nice to get, though you can’t see it well. The hallways were filled with Sculpture along with the portraits. It was hard to figure out what each one was, since signage was often far away from the actual artwork.
BACK TO ART
Enough of that break and we headed toward the second side of the U. There were other sections I wanted to see, but the Crannacht and Durer painting section was closed. He did show us one or two later pics, but left us mostly to our own devices and said goodbye. It was time by then for me to sit down and have a late lunch. There was a rooftop restaurant and the weather was sunny and pleasant, so I splurged on excessive prices for a few moments break. I got a generic tortellini with ham in a cream sauce and some still water…for 13 E. It was like an appetizer size, but it was enough for the moment. The view was lovely and I got some pics as well as some pigeon company. And for those concerned, no, no problem with the cream sauce… the joy of raw cheese and dairy.
BRITISH ADVICE
At the table next to me was an older British couple. They recommended a couple books they thought I would like and we enjoyed a brief pleasant conversation. Eventually, it was time for me to go back out. Since the pigeons were getting bored with me not sharing food. While sitting there, I kept debating. I wanted to go to the Ponte Vecchio since it had been so highly recommended, but I knew I had spent my budget on Murano glass, so I couldn’t afford the silver or gold they sold there, even if on a slightly cheaper street. And my feet were THROBBING. I decided to call it quits and head back to the hotel. I walked back up the Palazzo Vecchio and past the Duomo to the bus stop. It took forever for a bus I could take come up to the stop. As I waited, there was a son and father at the stop with me, American. Turns out the son was studying there and day was coming to stay with him for a while. They were heading in my direction, the residential area, which was interesting, but not a surprise as a student can’t afford downtown anywhere.
RECOUPERATION AND REGENERATION
I get to my stop, walk the 4 blocks to my hotel, take the elevator up, and CRASH. I am utterly exhausted, so I curl up on my bed for an hour. Before I start to sleep, I take out my foot lotion and massage it into my sore and aching feet and hope they will get better while I rest off of them. I discovered that it has arnica oil in it and it suddenly dawned on me that the time my feet started hurting was when I didn’t use it. I sleep till 7:45 pm. I wake to a call from Lu and Pieter. They are going to cab wherever they decide to go to dinner as they are hurting too. I tell them I really don’t want to walk anywhere far and will get recommendations from my concierge if they want to meet at a place here. They are in agreement. I get two recommendations about 2 blocks away and pick the one that I think suits us best. I tell them to meet me at Perseus. I clean up and head over.
THE REAL DEAL
I go to the door of the restaurant and the smells are amazing. I see foods that has been cooking in a glass case in the front. They arrive and we go in. The staff asks if we had reservations..in Italian, I am able to tell them no, so they tell us we will have to sit outside. It’s a bit chilly, but they plastic tented the area in and had a heater unit. I make sure that Lu gets the closer seat to the heater as she has noted feeling the cold a bit more. We get the menu. There is only Italian, the waiters, speak only Italian. I help translate and we pic what we want. I order it all, even the things we guess at…and the food…was the best we had anywhere. We got a carafe of the house chianti and water, non gasatta (no bubbles) plus a tasty home made flat bread. For appetizers, we had the shrimp and avocado marinated and served in it’s shell (the larger avocado, not the shrively black one) with wild greens and a plate of bruchetta with pomodoro and fegalotini (tomatoes on some and chicken livers served mashed, spiced, and warm…really surprisingly tasty). First courses were Bucatelli matriciana and gnocchi in a sausage and gorgonzola sauce. The gnocchi was the best efing gnocchi I have EVER had in my life. Fluffy, airy, potatoey. I fell in love with Gnocchi that night because of that amazing meal. Secundi were roasted pork with potatoes (simple and VERY Yummy) and filet in a green peppercorn cream sauce. Both secundi were amazing. For Dolce, we ordered the panne cotta (this time with a chocolate sauce) and biscotti with a sweet dipping wine for dessert. They both got cappuccinos and I got the local dessert wine, moscato. The Entire bill is 93E. Least expensive and best meal I had the entire time.
CULTURE SHOCKS
The table next to us, when they arrive, in heavily accented English ask for menus in English. The wait staff says they don’t have it. They seem to make do. They are not speaking English when alone, so I can’t place exactly where they are from. They receive a dessert that I can’t recognize, but we think it’s the one we want, so we ask the table, the vociferous man of the group tells us it is the cookies and tries to offer it to us. I assure him we got it ourselves but thanked him. When our desserts arrive, he comes over and asks/takes a bit of my panna cotta and gives me a bite of his lemon cheesecake. He reminds me of my Uncle Joe. It turns out he is from Hungary and his daughter of 18 is living in Vale now. I comment it is a great place to be when you are young and beautiful.
TAKING THE LEAST EXPENSIVE WAY HOME
I had purchased biglietti expecting to take the bus more than I had. Since I know I will be taking a cab tomorrow, I ask Lu and Pieter if they would like to take the two tickets I had (especially as I had tried to stamp them a few times and the machine wouldn’t work, so they are almost “free” at that rate. They are staying by the train station, and the bus stops there. They accept and I leave them at the bus stop and head to my room. I take the elevator back to the room, take pics of the art in the hallway and grab some money to get on the computer in the lobby) and head downstairs to check my email. It turns out that there is a problem with the election ballot I set up and I have to dial in and fix it. It only takes a moment to fix and I spend the rest of the time checking email and other sites I normally check. Back in the room, I repack all but what I need for the morning, and turn on the cheesey Italian talk shows and comedy show about pilots who are idiots (but it seemed funny). I set my alarm and fall deeply asleep.
The next day, it’s the trip to Rome.
Italy day 4, Florence
NOT ALL BREAKFASTS ARE ALIKE
So this morning was my first in morning in Florence and I had a tour scheduled at 8:15 at the Academia to see David and friends. I got up around 7am and headed downstairs to the basement level for breakfast. I had decided to brave wearing a skirt today and have a layer of leggings underneath to keep me warm. The meal was much more limited given my issues: Breads, fruit, yogurt, cereal with milk, orange juice, butter, chocolate spreads, and coffee. I got a coffee and filled it half way with hot chocolate, got a croissant and got their version of Nutella (different company of chocolate hazelnut spread) with a glass of water. I was buzzing from the sugar and caffeine and a bit uncomfortable, but it was what they had. I sat alone in the space and watched a lot of couples and groups eating together. I felt like I was getting looked at. It felt weird. I did like that the lower level was all blues and whites. No windows, but it was pretty.
VESPAS VESPAS EVERYWHERE AND NOT A DROP TO DRINK
So my hotel was just down the road by a 15-minute walk to the Academia, the closest major attraction, and where I was to start my day. I slowly strolled down the road with the locals walking to work. I had about ½ hour till the tour started, but I had to be there a bit early to be ready and earlish in line. The walk had a comfy feeling to it. Along the streets were huge lines of Vespas parked. Since the roads are small in Florence, there isn’t a lot room for vehicles, so they are naturally smaller and even smaller still are the motorbikes, everyone seems to drive them. I passed hundreds of them all over the city. It was a strange sight. I passed a sign to a small theater company, local shops, and a botanical garden, as well as a University building or two. I also passed a theater (though not open) and a botanical garden. Nice for pictures.
TIME, BUT NOT TIME
I get there and see a sign on the door that says that they are having an all staff meeting and won’t be opening till 10:15. Um, that’s 2 hours after my time. I am getting a bit worried that I will lose my slot. A woman is exiting the museum and getting onto a bicycle and I stop her and ask (after finding out if she speaks English) if I will still be able to get in at 10:15. She goes in and checks for me. She comes back out and says since I am just a singular person, it should be no problem. Now, I have time to kill, as it’s a bit chilly and it would be a waste to sit outside a museum for 2 hours when the city of Florence is still before me. I pull out my Rick Steeves book for Florence and look at what is nearby. One of the things he notes is that there is a wildly overlooked sculpture museum, the Bargello, which is just down the road a bit. I decide to give it a try.
BARGELLO AND THE GUARD
To enter the Bargello, you have to have your bags scanned, just to get into the lobby. Probably more logistical since there isn’t much space on the street and it consolidates things. I take off my coat and belt pouch and run them through the machine. I am good to go. It opens out into a cold open courtyard. Around the edge are sculptures, a cannon, and other architectural artistry. There are secondary rooms off the courtyard with more work, some of the more famous pieces. I take pictures in the open space of the architecture and some of the sculptures, including the one of Cosimo DiMedici as a Roman soldier. I head into one room to see that the second floor is closed. I head back across the hall to the other rooms as it’s still a bit chilly in the morning air.
RECOGNIZABLE ART
Inside this long room, I was fascinated with the sculpture. I recognized a bunch of sculpture from pictures I had seen in my youth. Michelangelo’s Baccus and Satyr and others. I am taking a few more pics when a guard comes up to me and informs me I can not take the pictures. I apologize and put my camera away. Then, I start to see even more recognizable pieces. I see a bunch of kids being brought through as part of a class. Wouldn’t that be a cool way to study art.
FROM A NEW PERSPECTIVE
I head upstairs in the cool courtyard to the second level at the top of the stairs to the right is a room with more famous sculpture, including a wall piece of St. George and the Dragon. I see the Donatello David…but, well, it’s not being displayed the way I would have expected, it’s being worked on, so it’s on its side being held in grips. I am so sad that I can’t take pictures because the image of the sculpture being held on it’s side is quite unusual and I can see angles of the art that normally we would never see. It’s fascinating. The book tells me that there is even more exciting stuff upstairs…but the 2nd floor (3rd for us) is closed. Bummer. I wander back down and head to the bathroom, which is in a basement level. In my small rebellion, after using the cold bathroom (it had an open window at the top), I saw the open janitorial closet was actually gated like a dungeon with the original wood door…so I took a picture of that. It was cool, and it was a picture inside the no picture museum…I know, not a big deal, but it makes me happy.
BACK TO THE ACADEMY LINES
It’s around 9:50 now and I have to head back up to the Academia. I am starting to get a bit hungry and don’t know how long I will be in the next museum, so I stop quickly by a tabacchi shop and get a ham and cheese (prosciutto and mozzarella) sandwich and an espresso at the bar. She heats the sandwich for me. I drink the espresso at a bar with a few others, then take the sandwich to go. Even though I am having bread, this should make it easier to stay awake. The sandwich’s melty warmth is nice in the cool air. Once I reach the Academia, my sandwich is done and the lines are rather long. This is 2 hours worth of entrances all gathered up and waiting to go in after the meeting. So much for an intimate morning. I am not sure where to stand and, after some conversation with assorted people in assorted lines, I realize the line I need is partially blocked off, because of the length. I get in it with some adjusting and a lot of others doing the same thing.
AND THE FLOOD GATES OPEN
Finally, it’s 10:15 and the doors open. The male guard at the exit door, where I am standing also comes out and asks who has reservations. I tell them mine were for two hours ago and they are about to pass me by, when they ask to see my ticket. They check I am one, and send me in the exit. It’s a bit of a free-for-all, but I go to get my tickets and am reminded I already paid for them. I just need the hard copy, to be screened, and to go in. I believe I am going in the end of the exhibit, but this will get me to David faster. Turns out, the actual museum is small and I was going in the normal way, the other side is a music history museum I look at later. I see Michelangelo’s “The Prisoners” which are half-sculpted sculptures. Bodies only partially freed from the marble. It’s fascinating to see the layers of work that go into this. One clean smooth, the next with hash marks, the next, very rough, and then rock. I make my way down past the tour groups, etc and head to the end of the hallway, to him. I stop and see all the sculpture along the way and am very impressed, but he keeps calling. I reach the end of the hallway, look up, and am stopped in my tracks.
DAVID, IN PERSON
I know I have commented about this before, but nothing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING prepared me for what this sculpture really was. Pictures show this thing as a 12-20 ft sculpture at best…and the ones around the rest of Florence are just that, but they are models, miniatures. I am craning my neck to see the top of this massive sculpture. Utterly in shock…and I begin to cry. I don’t know what caused it specifically, but this figure was truly awe-inspiring. Dear god, it was beautiful. Tears are rolling down my face. There is a long wood bench going around the back wall around the sculpture. In front, only 4 plastic/metal conference type chairs. They are still free as the space is rather empty still. I take chair to his slight left so as not to block the pathway. I just keep crying.
I AM NOT ALONE
As I sit, another woman, in her 50’s or 60’s comes toward me. She is holding a tissue in her hand, her eyes are red and swollen, and she is sniffing. She looks at me and we nod, then, she sits down next to me in the last open chair. We just stare looking up. Off to the right is a computer-generated viewer to see the sculpture in all its angles. I ask the guard how tall, and they tell me 21 meters (that’s 59 feet and change). I am dumbstruck again. I sit and analyze it’s perfection…yeah, Virgo, what a surprise. I stare at the feet, the arms, the hair, the musculature, and yes, of course, your eyes do go everywhere, but that wasn’t the fascination for me. The proportions were perfect, exceptional, real, except for the giant quality of its entirety.
THE LITTLE DETAILS
Eventually, maybe 10-15 minutes later, I stand and walk to the backside. I ended up speaking to the woman saying goodbye, it broke that moment we had and I regretted doing it. This was not a place for words. It is NOT lit as well, depressingly, and the details are harder to make out. The thing that sticks in my brain though, is the sling. I mean, sure, you are TOLD it’s David and you believe it, but what makes this giant the non-giant in the story of David and Goliath, but the sling. Draped down his back on his left side. Pictures rarely, if ever, show you the other angles and the back was not something I had seen, or if I did, I didn’t remember. This just struck me. Again, I stared at feet and other details that were meticulous. I wished we could use a camera, but it was not allowed. I was rather sad about that. I wanted something that showed it’s REAL perspective to people back home. This just didn’t do it justice.
THE REST OF LEARNING
It was starting to get crowded and I was more under control. There were some paintings in the areas around David and down the left hallway was a sculpture room. The plaster mock ups of eventual sculptures. The “learning” room of this Academia. It was fascinating how close you could get to the work, without touching it. I wanted to, desperately, sculpture cries out for being touched, but I was sure that alarms would go off if I did. My face got within inches of it without touching the art all over the city. I learned that Michelangelo was one of the first sculptors that didn’t have models, but just saw the creation in the stone. This impressed me even more with him. Unfortunately, this is when my feet started really killing me. I found chairs in corners to rest my feet a bit, but each time I had to stand again, it was hurting a lot. It was only 11ish and I still had another museum to tour, plus other things. I kept wandering hoping I could pull my Rijksmuseum trick and sit to massage my feet while I still observed or learned.
THE SOUNDS OF SITTING
I headed into the Music History museum and looked around at the instruments. I found a room with interactive computers to learn more history and sat down, took off one shoe at a time and massaged the hell out of my feet while I learned about the different musical periods. Unfortunately, the wheat was getting the better of me and I started getting VERY sleepy. This would not do. I got up and looked at the other rooms, then headed out to the bathroom. I cheated a bit and used the open HC bathroom, I think, that was on the main level, instead of going to the basement. I couldn’t tell if it was or not, as I couldn’t read the signs well. I was quick at least and no one was waiting when I came out.
THE BELLS OF THE VECCHIO
I head down toward the Uffizzi where I have my 12:30 guided tour. I stop on the way at the courtyard around the corner, the Palazzo Vecchio. There is sculpture everywhere. A mini David (not nearly as impressive), Neptune and his minions, the rape of the sabine, Hercules and the centaur, and more. As I am taking pics, as are all the other tourists, when suddenly, the bells of noon begin to ring. The birds are moving, the people are strolling and I pull out my camera and slowly circle the palazzo to the echoing bells. Wow. Just wow. I take pictures of the sculpture, again, from unusual angles, since it fascinates me to see things from other dimensions, angles you can’t get in a book. It’s almost time for the tour, so I head toward the Ufizzi.
FROZEN IN ART
There is a large courtyard that is the center area of the Uffizi. I wandered down the length of the “corridor.” There are long lines of people waiting to go in. I am so glad that I pre=bought tickets with a tour. I notice the sculpture of famous artists inset into the walls. Michelangelo, Davinci and more. I also see artists drawing and selling their own work and actors “frozen” as pharohs, priests, angels, and more. They are amusing and entertaining, but they are no De-vine or the like. I read my ticket and it notes I should meet at the __ exit. I walk across the “street” and see the office with that number. The door is locked and the woman at the desk is patently ignoring me. Joy. I turn and head down the other side of the building and see others standing looking slightly lost. Turns out these ladies from Manchester, England are for the same tour and had the same issue with the woman behind the glass. My feet are killing me, so while they are waiting in our “line” I go sit on the bench and massage my feet more. OWWWW.
TIME AT THE OFFICE
A tall goodlooking man dressed in very comfy clothing comes casually strolling down the pathway we are waiting on and stopps to chat with someone there. He then turns to us and in English introduces himself as Andreas, our guide. Um, ok. We get our whispers (though they went by another name) and head to the other side. He warns us that we have to take them off and maybe more items to go through security. I try to keep toward the front because I want to see everything. Once we get through, it’s a large number of steps or an elevator up. Um, normally, I would have done stairs, but my feet
THE PROGRESS OF ART
We are brought first into a room with 3 Madonnas and child(ren). This room shows the progression in 50 years from flat painting to the beginning of the renaissance. The change of style and detail work as they progress is amazing. Our guide, though casual, was extremely well informed. As he spoke about the work and noted items or pointed to things, he never or barely looked at the paintings. Um, wow. He knew this stuff that well. Slowly, he took us through the history of painting, mostly Italian, of the Renaissance and beyond, and mostly listed in Rick Steves’ review of the important paintings of the Uffizzi. We saw the Birth of Venus, and learned tons about the symbolism and how it was the blending of pagan and Christian philosophies; the Annunciation by DaVinci and learned about how meticulous he was, as he painted in over 500 different botanical species that have been identified in the grass; the real gold on the crowns; and the lined walls of famous people on one side and the DiMedici’s on the other wall…every one they had…which was a lot.
ALARMS OF THE ART
My feet are hurting so badly, I am squatting to try to be able to hear/see, and not give up. I wanted to sit, but I am looking for ways around it. I lean on the rail and we hear a beep. Turns out I had just set of the alarm. He asks me to not lean on the rail and the beeping stops. I hear the beeps going out every once in a while, but at least now I know it’s not me. The one thing I am noticing is that Italian men (in person) are attractive. ALL of them, even the older ones, they have charm and are just attractive…naturally attractive. And the younger ones are just gorgeous. It’s a dangerous place to be, but very pleasant. It’s quite the switch from Amsterdam where the women were pretty and the men…weren’t. Though in Italy, the women were pretty too, but the men…wow.
THE PICTURES OF THE OFFICE
Uffizzi actually stands for “the office” in Italian as this building was originally the offices of the DiMedici’s and they built an escape route. There is an inside bridge that goes from the Uffizzi to the Pitti Palace, where they lived, across the River Arno on top of the Ponte Vecchio. Should weather be bad or they wanted to get the hell out of one place or the other without people knowing, they took this hidden route to get where they needed. The Uffizzi is a big U in shape, and the short length (bottom of the U) is the only place you are allowed to take pics, mainly to take pics of the River Arno, the Ponte Vecchio, and this bridge. I took a quick moment to get a pic of the inside hallway as well as the bridge. At the far end of the hall was Maria DiMedici’s pic. That was nice to get, though you can’t see it well. The hallways were filled with Sculpture along with the portraits. It was hard to figure out what each one was, since signage was often far away from the actual artwork.
BACK TO ART
Enough of that break and we headed toward the second side of the U. There were other sections I wanted to see, but the Crannacht and Durer painting section was closed. He did show us one or two later pics, but left us mostly to our own devices and said goodbye. It was time by then for me to sit down and have a late lunch. There was a rooftop restaurant and the weather was sunny and pleasant, so I splurged on excessive prices for a few moments break. I got a generic tortellini with ham in a cream sauce and some still water…for 13 E. It was like an appetizer size, but it was enough for the moment. The view was lovely and I got some pics as well as some pigeon company. And for those concerned, no, no problem with the cream sauce… the joy of raw cheese and dairy.
BRITISH ADVICE
At the table next to me was an older British couple. They recommended a couple books they thought I would like and we enjoyed a brief pleasant conversation. Eventually, it was time for me to go back out. Since the pigeons were getting bored with me not sharing food. While sitting there, I kept debating. I wanted to go to the Ponte Vecchio since it had been so highly recommended, but I knew I had spent my budget on Murano glass, so I couldn’t afford the silver or gold they sold there, even if on a slightly cheaper street. And my feet were THROBBING. I decided to call it quits and head back to the hotel. I walked back up the Palazzo Vecchio and past the Duomo to the bus stop. It took forever for a bus I could take come up to the stop. As I waited, there was a son and father at the stop with me, American. Turns out the son was studying there and day was coming to stay with him for a while. They were heading in my direction, the residential area, which was interesting, but not a surprise as a student can’t afford downtown anywhere.
RECOUPERATION AND REGENERATION
I get to my stop, walk the 4 blocks to my hotel, take the elevator up, and CRASH. I am utterly exhausted, so I curl up on my bed for an hour. Before I start to sleep, I take out my foot lotion and massage it into my sore and aching feet and hope they will get better while I rest off of them. I discovered that it has arnica oil in it and it suddenly dawned on me that the time my feet started hurting was when I didn’t use it. I sleep till 7:45 pm. I wake to a call from Lu and Pieter. They are going to cab wherever they decide to go to dinner as they are hurting too. I tell them I really don’t want to walk anywhere far and will get recommendations from my concierge if they want to meet at a place here. They are in agreement. I get two recommendations about 2 blocks away and pick the one that I think suits us best. I tell them to meet me at Perseus. I clean up and head over.
THE REAL DEAL
I go to the door of the restaurant and the smells are amazing. I see foods that has been cooking in a glass case in the front. They arrive and we go in. The staff asks if we had reservations..in Italian, I am able to tell them no, so they tell us we will have to sit outside. It’s a bit chilly, but they plastic tented the area in and had a heater unit. I make sure that Lu gets the closer seat to the heater as she has noted feeling the cold a bit more. We get the menu. There is only Italian, the waiters, speak only Italian. I help translate and we pic what we want. I order it all, even the things we guess at…and the food…was the best we had anywhere. We got a carafe of the house chianti and water, non gasatta (no bubbles) plus a tasty home made flat bread. For appetizers, we had the shrimp and avocado marinated and served in it’s shell (the larger avocado, not the shrively black one) with wild greens and a plate of bruchetta with pomodoro and fegalotini (tomatoes on some and chicken livers served mashed, spiced, and warm…really surprisingly tasty). First courses were Bucatelli matriciana and gnocchi in a sausage and gorgonzola sauce. The gnocchi was the best efing gnocchi I have EVER had in my life. Fluffy, airy, potatoey. I fell in love with Gnocchi that night because of that amazing meal. Secundi were roasted pork with potatoes (simple and VERY Yummy) and filet in a green peppercorn cream sauce. Both secundi were amazing. For Dolce, we ordered the panne cotta (this time with a chocolate sauce) and biscotti with a sweet dipping wine for dessert. They both got cappuccinos and I got the local dessert wine, moscato. The Entire bill is 93E. Least expensive and best meal I had the entire time.
CULTURE SHOCKS
The table next to us, when they arrive, in heavily accented English ask for menus in English. The wait staff says they don’t have it. They seem to make do. They are not speaking English when alone, so I can’t place exactly where they are from. They receive a dessert that I can’t recognize, but we think it’s the one we want, so we ask the table, the vociferous man of the group tells us it is the cookies and tries to offer it to us. I assure him we got it ourselves but thanked him. When our desserts arrive, he comes over and asks/takes a bit of my panna cotta and gives me a bite of his lemon cheesecake. He reminds me of my Uncle Joe. It turns out he is from Hungary and his daughter of 18 is living in Vale now. I comment it is a great place to be when you are young and beautiful.
TAKING THE LEAST EXPENSIVE WAY HOME
I had purchased biglietti expecting to take the bus more than I had. Since I know I will be taking a cab tomorrow, I ask Lu and Pieter if they would like to take the two tickets I had (especially as I had tried to stamp them a few times and the machine wouldn’t work, so they are almost “free” at that rate. They are staying by the train station, and the bus stops there. They accept and I leave them at the bus stop and head to my room. I take the elevator back to the room, take pics of the art in the hallway and grab some money to get on the computer in the lobby) and head downstairs to check my email. It turns out that there is a problem with the election ballot I set up and I have to dial in and fix it. It only takes a moment to fix and I spend the rest of the time checking email and other sites I normally check. Back in the room, I repack all but what I need for the morning, and turn on the cheesey Italian talk shows and comedy show about pilots who are idiots (but it seemed funny). I set my alarm and fall deeply asleep.
The next day, it’s the trip to Rome.
