Ahh, Florence (aka Firenze). What can I say besides the fact that I fell in love? If Florence had been a man, we’d be soul mates. Or at least lovers. The narrow, winding streets, the bridges, the flowers, the leather purses… I’d go back in a heartbeat.
But first, the story of how we arrived. The plan was to awake early and board a train around 9 (after a breakfast of croissants and cappuccino, of course), so that we could arrive around 10:30 or 11. We arrived at 2:30. I suppose that happens when you get back to the hostel after 5 a.m. Sarong boy and fan Nazi were unhappy with us, I’m sure… but that’s OK, at least this time we enjoyed the fan while we slept. And luckily they woke up after 9 like we did.
Two cappuccinos were necessary to stay awake that morning. By the time we were on the train, however, all was well (this being after we spent 30 minutes in the train station trying to figure out where to go, and getting lost on the way… in the ghetto). It looked like a scene from Under the Tuscan Sun. The rolling hills, quaint houses and sunshine for two hours. Laughing about the previous night’s activities kept us alert.
As I mentioned in the first paragraph, it was love at first sight. Florence reminded me of the small cities in France we’d visit on some weekday afternoon during the traveling portion of my study abroad trip (AKA Schlag 2003). I really wish we’d had more time to spend there. I didn’t even get to taste the Chianti, and there was so much more to see. I guess that just means I’ll have to return someday… someday soon.
As soon as we arrived, we pulled out Whitney’s guidebook and found our way to the Accademia to see David. I went and got us sandwiches (salami, lettuce and fresh mozzarella for me) from a random café while Whitney held our place in line. David was huge. And I don’t mean in a phallic sense. He was just overall big. I’m not sure why I expected him to be a smaller statue… I just know that when I walked into that portion of the museum, I was amazed. Michelangelo was quite talented. A bit of an understatement, right?
We walked from the Accademia to Il Duomo. Again, looked like a scene from the movies. Unfortunately it had just closed when we arrived, so we weren’t able to go to the top, but that’s OK. I got a few pictures with it, and I suppose that will have to satisfy me. After Il Duomo, we strolled through the streets, toward the Ponte Vecchio. Breathtaking. I could see it even before we really approached… and I could have stood there forever. You could see the hills in the distance, the houses along the water. And the sun was beginning to set. I don’t think it could have been more perfect if it had been in a painting.
After pausing to rest on the Ponte Vecchio and browse a few shops, we continued on our way to try and find the Boboli Gardens (and to do some leather purse shopping in between). I’m not sure if they were closed or if we just got lost, but we couldn’t find them. It was nearing on 7 anyway, so we decided to head back to a piazza we’d found on our walk.
There was a choir/opera company rehearsing (or something of the sort) near this old castle-like, Church structure in the piazza. It provided wonderful background music for our dinner. The area reminded me of the square where we ate dinner in Tours, before watching fireworks across the bridge. I wish I could remember the name of it. Anyway, I digress… We ate dinner in the pretty piazza with the background music. I had ravioli, a salad and tiramisu for dessert. Oh, and a small glass of limoncello. Tiramisu was amazing. Limoncello was delicious. And of course the ravioli beat any other one I’d ever tasted. Yum.
After dinner there wasn’t much time before our train left, so we walked over to the train station. We met a guy from California who had decided the day before to travel Europe. I was jealous. Once the train arrived, I pretty much fell asleep for the entire two hours. We made it back to the hostel around midnight and went to sleep, knowing the next day was going to be quite busy.
