Florence

Travel journal continued...

April 15, 2006

The train ride from Rome to Florence was remarkably comfortable. I envy Italy its trains. The last train experience I had was in my college days, going from Rochester, NY to visit my aunt in Chicago -- and that was made most notable by the random couple who met on the train in the seat next to us, hooked up, and then had sex together all night. Not quickly will I forget opening my eyes to the sight of a bare foot waving by my face.

If there was sex being had on the Italian trains, it was in Italian, and I remained blissfully ignorant.

We booked our stay at Persione Ferretti, via delle belle Donne, 17. It's a small establishment run by a South African woman and her husband. On the plus side, it has internet connection! It's a relief to get online, at least long enough to do a brain dump of our last few days before it dribbles out my head. Their computer is probably older than I am, and it's running some peevish version of Windows that I haven't seen in years. The Guy is desperate to fix it. Since many of the system menus appear to be in Italian, I'm suggesting this is probably not a great idea.

On the downside, the room is not in great condition. It's old and shabby, and definitely run down. Also, word to the wise. If you're going to stay at a pensione, make sure that you know what the bathroom situation is. Competing with fourteen people to share a common bathroom isn't a situation designed for convenience. However, the point of being in Italy isn't to spend time hanging out in the room, but to go out and see Italy, and for its location -- convenient to the train station -- the price is great.

Florence is the home of some notable works of art and science, and some of the greatest minds of the ages have passed through or lived there in their time. Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Galileo -- there are museums and treasures everywhere. We elected to spend some time in a museum, skip the David, and then just hang out in the city a bit.

Here is a tip for those of you who decide to visit Italy and go to museums. (Damn. I have lost the apostrophe key again. Screw it. No apostrophes for you!) Rent the audio guides. They are very very useful, and if you are in a museum, the last thing you really want to do is be looking down, reading, when the art is actually in front of you. Also, some of these audio guides are damn good.

(Except the one for the Vatican. That is to say, the audio guide was great, but there were so many people, they did not want us to stay still long enough to listen to the full explanations. We kept getting pushed along. Boo.)

We hit the Uffizi gallery. The gallery is arranged in chronological order, and we initially sort of skipped over the earlier art, lacking either understanding or appreciation of it. Then the Guy got interested in it -- and I did to, I admit, so we went back and started to get fascinated by the intricacies of what we were seeing. Followed a few guide groups around for the fun of it; a gang in German had a very articulate tour guide, while a Japanese one was rather amusing in her own snarky way. Interesting exhibit on Leonardo, and I get special points for not being a moron. (Actually, Sara gets special points for telling me not to be a moron. I will give credit where credit is due.) I got an actual reservation for tickets, which meant we bypassed the long line and went straight to the head. Hah. The only down side to that is that we missed the Explosion of the Cart, which was at 12:00. However, we did see an interesting parade in period costume from one square to the next, wholly by accident.

The Guy took a picture of the motorcycle police escort.

Did I mention he's a little predictable?

Afterwards, we wandered about Florence for a while. We crossed some bridges, one of which is famous for the leather and jewelry workers that work along its length. Closed, of course, given it is Easter Sunday. Well.

We did some window shopping, ate some lunch ... and here is the sad thing. Italy is apparently famous for the fashion shopping (and I have to admit, the Italians are spectacularly well-dressed people. They are the European equivalent of Koreans, really) (Meanwhile, I can always recognize the Americans and the Japanese because they are the worst dressed. The Japanese always seem to wear little fishing caps. I do not get that. I bet when I find my mother in Manarola, she will also be wearing a little fishing hat. As far as I know, she does not actually own one. I will bet you she bought one just for this trip.)

...okay. What was the point of this? Right. I do not like to shop. For clothes. Boo. Wasted on me, a bit. The Guy seems to find this intensely disappointing. I always thought that husbands were supposed to protest bitterly against their wives' needless expenditure on gewgaws and the like, but mine seems to take it almost personally that I don't like to buy things.

He's cute.

It is right now 4:00 pm, and we are resting a bit before doing some more wandering. I have to find out where our car rental is tomorrow. Bother. I am a little stressed. We were intending to rent a car and drive out into the countryside, stay there tomorrow night, and then come back to Florence in time to catch a train to Cinque Terre. However, my rental reservation does not actually give me an address for the rental, and we do not have any reservations for a hotel tomorrow since I am not entirely sure where we will end up. NERVE WRACKED. Irritatingly, husband is perfectly calm.

Also wrote an email to my boss this morning asking if our product shipped, after all. Spent all last night dreaming about work. This is not restful.