On to Florence

Early in the morning of day three I was on a train to Florence.  Florence is many things, but quiet is not one of them.  After the peacefulness of Venice where there are no cars and every corner is a quiet little alley, Florence was a bit of a shock!  It is beautiful and the view from the top of my hotel was amazing...the Duomo was so close it seemed like you could reach out and touch it.  I had booked myself in to a B&B in Florence before I left.  It was a bit more than I probably should have spent on accommodations, but the experience of staying there was worth every penny.  When I arrived this extremely energetic woman who spoke as much English as I did Italian did her best using gestures and sign language to show me around the hotel, all the important stuff, where the roof top patio was, where breakfast was, how to use the 700 keys to get in to the building.  She then handed me a cork screw, a plastic glass, and a bottle of wine.  No translation required on that one.  I threw my bags in my room and made my way to the roof and toasted the city and the view.  Who cares if it was 10 in the morning!   

 

I preferred Florence from my roof top than from the streets below.  When you venture in to the city itself you instantly become aware that there seem to be more Americas in Florence than there are Italians.  To all of my American friends and readers, please do not take offence.  It’s just that I was in Italy.  I had hoped to meet some Italians.  That’s all.  Also, people who travel on cruise ships, (and many of them are American) are a nightmare scenario for me.  They travel in packs, never just one or two, ten seems to be the smallest number they will move in, they yell and throw fits when people don't speak English, (it never seems to occur to them that the world is not here to cater to them), and it rained while I was in Florence, so they were all in giant groups armed with umbrellas.  I almost lost an eye.  No joke.   

When you get away from the crazy packs of people swarming the Duomo, Florence is lovely.  I ate the most amazing food ever.  I had tiramisu at least once a day, (usually twice), and although I was turned away from the one restaurant I really wanted to eat at because I was by myself, I did have a great time.  There always seems to be a full band playing outside, no matter where in the city you are, and Florence is home to the David.  I hesitate to write about the David because really all I can do is gush.  I had seen pictures of the David and knew what it was but I had no idea how absolutely, unbelievably, beautiful it is.  I spent 45 minutes just looking at it and could have spent hours more.  The pictures do not do it justice.  If you are in Florence you must see the David.  And not just for the David.  Lining the hallway that leads you to David there are unfinished Michelangelo sculptures.  This is when I fell in love with Michelangelo and decided I want to have his babies.  (Too bad I’m far too late!).  These unfinished sculptures look like they will come alive and break free of the stone any second.  I’ve never seen anything so compelling, ever.  I bought post cards of both David and the unfinished works, but they just can’t capture the aliveness of the work.  It is an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.