The Extremely Long Post about Florence
Oct. 25th, 2009 05:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
devaraeThis is very very very long. You have been warned! This is a version of a trip report I submitted on the Slow Travel website (it isn't up yet there).
Saturday, October 10th: My husband Bob and I set off on our long-anticipated Italian escapade! We each have a single bag that can convert to be carried like a backpack that we will check, and a carry-on. My carry-on is full of novels (more than I need, but I love to read and have a great fear of being caught without a book!), a few guidebooks, and a sheaf of printouts from the Slow Travel website on important topics like how to shop in an Italian market and how to order gelato. I also have lists of restaurants, gelaterias, and the entire list of recommendations from Divina Cucina.
We will be meeting my parents at the airport in Boston for an overnight flight to Florence (transferring at Charles de Gaulle). Rather than drive down from Maine, we decide to take the convenient bus service ($44 each round trip) on Concord Trailways, from Portland to Logan Airport. We take what may be our last opportunity for some time to feast on tasty Indian food. Fortified with samosa and chicken tikka masala, we are on our way!
The Air France planes are comfortable and they provide a handy packet of earplugs and eyemask. I actually manage to sleep for a good part of the trans-Atlantic flight. The supper is also surprisingly tasty and comes with a cute little menu (which I keep as a souvenir, travel geek that I am).
Sunday October 11th: The passport check and transfer at CDG go smoothly, and before long we are flying into the morning sunshine. The views as we fly over the Alps are incredible! A panoramic vista of snow-topped mountains gives way slowly to brown and green hills, and soon enough we begin seeing clusters of red-roofed houses. I spot what looks like the white gorges of a marble quarry, and then dozens of turquoise blue pools marking the agriturismos and fancy villas dotting the countryside. And then.... a cloud of misty gray where Florence ought to be.
We circle for a while, but the fog doesn’t break up, and ultimately we are re-routed to Bologna. We survive by identifying a capable looking man in a beret from our plane and following him, since Air France doesn’t bother to tell us what is going on or where to go (or if they do, the intercom is so bad we can’t hear it). One of the other passengers has to corral an Air France rep to get the scoop, and then she (bless her!) tells the rest of us what’s going on (we will take buses). By the time we do get to Florence, the fog has lifted and it is a sunny hot day!
We take a taxi to our apartment at the Palazzo Gamba, right in the heart of the city. Despite our jet-lag, we are thrilled by that first glimpse of the Duomo, rising up from the white-green-pink marble splendor of Santa Maria del Fiore. We sweep into our apartment, marveling at the enormously tall ceilings, and throw open the windows. From our small balcony I can study every vein of the marble, we are so close!
The apartment is clean and spacious, though a bit cold, more like a hotel room than a home. The location is both boon and bane: we are steps away from everything, but it is very noisy with tourists, traffic, and ambulances throughout the night. Mom, Bob and I immediately take naps, while Dad ventures out bravely on his own for groceries: milk, Coca-Cola light, and delicious blood orange juice. I wake up after only an hour, too excited to sleep further, so Dad and I head out to amble around. We see the Piazza della Repubblica and a church open to the street offering free entry to an ongoing organ music performance (as we later discover, this is pretty much a nightly affair). I spot one of the recommended gelaterias: GROM! There is a long line, but it is worth it. I have decided that pistachio will be my default flavor, so I can have some basis of comparison. It is very tasty with a strong cream flavor.
We return to the apartment to pick up Mom and Bob, and decide to take a stroll toward the Arno and look for a place to have dinner. We make our way along the Via del Calzaioli to the Piazza della Signoria, where we pause for a bit to admire the statues (including the reproduction of David). I check out Rivoire and hope I will have the chance to return later (though as it turns out, I don’t!). The press of the crowds is somewhat oppressive, and I am finding the amount of smoke a little hard to deal with. There is a lot of hustle and bustle everywhere, which is both exciting and a bit wearying.
We cross the Ponte Vecchio, admiring the old shops (mostly closed as it is Sunday). In a bid to escape some of the crowds we turn immediately right after crossing the bridge and head up a less crowded side-street. There we discover Osteria Chingale Bianco, one of the much-recommended restaurants on my list. It appears they have just opened for dinner as hardly any tables are taken. Mom bravely goes in and asks if we can have a table for four. Yes! We enjoy a delicious first meal in Florence. None of us are up to a full several course meal, so we all order either a primo (pasta) or a segundo (meat) but not both. My Pumpkin Ravioli with Butter and Sage is delicious, as is Mom’s pasta with Eggplant. Bob tries the Polenta and Chiangale (Wild Boar), while Dad has a deliciously garlicy Chicken with Roasted Potatoes. We also split some bruscetta (the tomatoes are so sweet and good!) and prosciutto with melon (interesting, but I like the melon on its own best).
We walk home, stopping so that Bob can get a gelato of his own (from GROM, where the lines are now much shorter). He likes it but the chocolate flavor is a bit too dark for his tastes (he prefers milk chocolate). Then it’s to bed to get ready for our first full day!
Monday October 12th:
It rains overnight, and the morning dawns with a dismal grayness that we optimistically (and foolishly) ignore. After a breakfast of toast we head out to the Cappelle Medici. We arrive early and there is no line for tickets, so we each purchase the combo tickets to enter the church and the library and treasury. We spend some peaceful moments in the cloister, breathing in the fresh wet air that smells of boxwood. Then we head up to view the Laurentine Library. It’s an impressive room and we have fun imagining the rows of stalls filled with ancient colorful tomes. Beyond this is the display of old scrolls, books, and papers, from papyrus divorce documents to wax tablets to beautifully illuminated bibles to “magic scrolls”. There’s also a bathroom (allowing us to implement one of our main rules of travel: always use the bathroom when you have the chance). Unfortunately I suddenly have a coughing fit (I had been sick the week before we left and thought I was recovered but either the dust or the smoke is apparently setting me off). I gasp my way out to the cloister again to recover, where we discover it has started to rain. We duck next door to the church itself and hope it will stop.
The church is impressive (inside, at least) but oddly does not feel holy to Bob or I. In fact we agree that it reminds us of the chilly great hall of Denethor in the Lord of the Rings movie. Perhaps it’s an appropriate comparison! In the sacristy next door (designed by Brunelleschi, famous for his work on the Duomo) I found more appealing design, particularly in the gorgeous dome painted a deep vibrant blue and starred with the outlines of constellations.
The rain had not abated but fortunately Dad has craftily hidden an umbrella in his many-pocketed photographer’s vest without any of the rest of us realizing it. He goes back to the apartment for our other rain gear, and once outfitted we head for the nearby Mercato Centrale.
We divide up to find suitable lunch and dinner fixins. The very helpful and charming staff at Gastronomia Perini help me select some oversized tortellini, dried tomato pesto, a slice of cheese and some hard salami. Then I go looking for the recommended Pany Da Lory but cannot find it. I finally settle on another bakery that looks interesting, only to discover, when I check the receipt, that it WAS Pany da Lory! I get two small loaves of seeded bread. Bob in the meantime has scored a bunch of roasted chicken and potatoes, and we pick up green beans -- carefully asking the proprietor to get them for us having been warned that Italian produce shops are not self-serve as in the US!
Back home we dry off and feast on the chicken, potatoes and green beans. By the time we finish the weather has cleared, so we head off to explore the area north of us. We walk past the Accademia gallery but none of us feels the overwhelming need to visit it. We do, however, stop at Carebe for gelato. The pistachio is much nuttier, flecked with bits of nut, and quite delicious. We wend our way into the Piazza de Santissima Annunziata, which is (according to one guidebook) one of the most perfectly proportioned in Florence. It is indeed lovely, framed with loggias and quite empty. As Bob says, it would be an excellent setting for an angry mob. Spotting the entry to the church, we figure we might as well check it out, and boy are we glad we do! It is one of our favorites of the entire trip, with a remarkable aura of peace, and glorious gold-bedecked ceilings that lift your spirits upward. In a side chapel I find a haunting painting of a woman, her pale face emerging from shadows, turned upward in awe and reverence and perhaps some sorrow. I have not been able to find an image online and could not see a painter, but the inscription of the chapel referenced a Dona Barbara. I wonder who this mysterious woman is, and light a candle for her.
The attached cloister is also worth a visit. We enjoy the frescos, particularly several that feature a dog in the crowd. We wonder if the painter had such a dog.
Next we visit the Archaeology museum, but it is a disappointment. The setup is confused and the staff are cold, unsmiling and grouchy. The numbering of the rooms is not clear and we suspect even the Italian labels are not very clear. I do enjoy visiting the rooms of Egyptian artifacts, which are dim and spooky and filled with the staring painted eyes of sarcophagi. The gardens look lovely and inviting but are off-limits. We depart, and pledge to tell others it is not worth the price of admission!
We spend some time trying to find what looks like a public park on our map, only to discover that all the green areas are in fact private parks. I am to discover this is the start of a trend-- there seem to be very few, if any, green spaces (or even trees!) out in the open in Florence. I find it oppressive and miss the lovely parks in Paris where I could sit and people-watch.
Back in the apartment we cook our dinner of tortellini with sundried tomato pesto and green beans, and have cheese, salami and tomato antipasti. It is all delicious!
After dinner Bob and I go get our second gelato of the day at Perche No. I try the semifreddo (tiramisu flavor) and surprise myself by preferring gelato. The frothy lightness of the semifreddo feels almost too insubstantial to eat.
Tuesday, October 13th:
Today we have arranged a tour with Luca of Hills and Roads. We are all very excited for the chance to see the countryside! I sip my tea looking up from our balcony at the beautiful crescent moon hanging against the clear blue sky over the Duomo. The rain has gone (and as it turns out, it will not return again for the rest of our trip! Clearly we won the weather lottery!).
At 9:30 Luca finds us waiting on the street outside our apartment, just as promised. He is a charming and well-spoken man, with a wealth of information about Italy. He puts us all at ease.
We begin the trip by driving through the woody hills of the Chianti Collie to a tiny hilltop castle village with a population of only around 50. It is named Montebenichi, and it is adorably quaint and picturesque. Every window seems to sport white lace curtains, and everywhere we look there are bright potted flowers, old gray stone, and sleepy cats.
Continuing on, we move into the Crete Sinisi landscape, with the familiar brown hills lined with dark spikes of cypress. We stop for a bathroom break and drinks and cough drops (I have another scary coughing fit in the van) at Asciano. This is also a town built around a castle, but it is still active and has a more modern feel. We wander the town, admiring the old walls, peering up at grandmas watching us out their windows, and finding odd nooks. Dad picks some green grapes growing on a wall and declares them tasty!
But the rest of us are getting hungry too and we don’t have much time to eat before we need to be at our next stop. Luca drives us on to the Val d’Orcia region and Montalcino, which is sun-drenched and gorgeous. We feast on one of the simplest but best meals of our entire trip: fat homemade spaghetti-like pasta called “pinci” with tomato sauce. I dream of that pasta several times in the following week!
We are in a hurry because one of my must-see sites is the San Antimo Abbey, and I really wanted to be there to hear the chanting at one of the services.
As we drive along the winding roads and the Abbey comes into view I experience a thrill: I had not actually looked at pictures of the buildings, only read other trip reports that sung its praises. But still I recognized the structure, because it was the image I had randomly chosen as a desktop image on my computer! And it is a very striking vista, with the pale elegant lines of the Abbey rising against the deep green valley, punctuated by a single dark cypress that parallels the tower.
We head directly into the hall, and find a lofty space filled with golden light. There are no stained glass windows and very little decoration, but this is the most spiritual spot I have encountered thus far in Italy (and will continue to hold that title for the rest of the trip). After a short time, a side door opens and 7 or 8 white-robed monks sweep in gracefully. They range in age from an old white-haired gentleman who trembles when he stands to a young fellow in his twenties, perhaps, who looks book rapt and driven. Without any fuss or muss, they take their places and begin the 15 minute service. I could have listened for much longer! Some sing with heart-stirring virtuosity, others with more faith than beauty, but it is all very moving and I will remember it for a long time.
After the service we wander the grounds, visiting some of the few centuries-old olive trees to escape a late frost some years ago. It is a special and magical place, even with a couple dozen other tourists on the site. I hope I can return some day!
From the Abbey we head off to Castiglion d’Orcia, a remarkable medium-sized hill-top town with a madcap M. C. Escher feel to the streets, with their jumble of stairways, sloping ramps and passages shooting off every-which-way. Sadly my memory card dies just in the middle of this visit, and I lose all my photos to this point! Oh well! It’s a good thing Bob and Dad were also taking pictures!
By this time I’ve had another coughing fit, and we are getting tired, so we decide to skip the planned visit to Pienza to sample cheeses, and instead pause only long enough to note that it is a very pretty but highly touristed town, and to use a restroom!
Back in Florence Luca drops us off near our apartment. We pay him (using a credit card) and thank him for an absolutely wonderful day! We eat leftovers and go to bed early.
Wednesday October 14th:
In the morning Dad climbs the Duomo. I decide not to join him for fear it will aggravate my cough. We see him up on the walkway and wave from our apartment balcony below. He returns to say the climb was not too bad, and the views were very nice. We have both read Brunelleschi’s Dome and were thus curious to see the masterpiece of engineering in real life!
Mom and I go out thinking maybe we will have hot chocolate at Rivoire, but it is too cold to sit outside. Instead we try cornetto filled with chocolate from a recommended pastry shop named Scudieri’s on the corner near the Baptistry. These things are absolutely divine! They are warm, buttery and crisp. As you sink your teeth into the layers of pastry, a glorious pudding-like chocolate oozes out (and occasionally dribbles down your chin because you are so enraptured by the taste you don’t notice).
Today we visit the Bargello in the morning. It is a gorgeous museum, and I am grateful for the thinner crowds. After purchasing tickets, you can step out into the wide courtyard, edged covered walks like a cloister, with a massive stone staircase leading up to a covered loggia on the second level. All the interior walls are decorated by dozens of elaborate sigils, and the ceilings of the loggias are painted in patterns of red blue and green, with pale ribs of stone holding them aloft. Statuary is scattered about, and there is an old well at the center of the yard. Having acquired a new memory card from a shop near the apartment, I snap dozens of photos!
The exhibits themselves are extensive and very interesting. I take note of the Donatello sculptures, the plates with Renaissance designs, the dim Persian room glimmering with gold and copper, and an array of 16th century clocks. The Donatello Room is a sight just for the room itself, with a vast high ceiling. I spent a lot of time just sitting, absorbing the atmosphere, listening to chants and Renaissance music on my iPod.
We lunch at a recommended restaurant called La Baroanda, which we almost did not find because it doesn’t have that name outside anymore (though there is a sign inside and the address is the same). I have the menu di Giorno of pasta carbonara followed by sausages with spinach. All delicious! The service is also very good.
Fortified, we continue on to Santa Croce. I have just enough time to see the many tombs (Rossini, Fermi, Gallileo, Machiavelli) before another coughing fit drives me outside, gagging and breathless. We decide I have to see a doctor as I am having trouble breathing and scaring my family (and myself). Fortunately I have thought to copy down information from the Rick Steves website about an English doctor who specializes in treating tourists. The info on the website is a correction to the guidebook, as the doctor has recently relocated. We send Dad off to Fiesole without us, and Mom and Bob escort me to see Dr Kerr. We locate the offices on the Piazza Mercato Nuovo (#1). I fill out some paperwork and Dr Kerr sees me only a few minutes later. It is very easy and convenient, and the pharmacy right downstairs is able to fill my prescription for antibiotics and cough syrup. Even better, Dr Kerr says I should take one of the pills right away “with something to eat, like gelato”. Nothing better than being prescribed ice cream!
We head off to Gelateria Del Neri. The offerings there are excellent, one of my favorites of the trip. And the medicine does the trick -- I have no more scary coughing fits after that, whew! But the cough syrup does knock me out, so we head home to rest. Bob and I go out for a late dinner at an unremarkable restaurant, then some more gelato at a place right next to Vestri Chocolates (which was closed). It is very good!
Thursday October 15th:
We dedicate our last day in Florence (we will be leaving by train for Venice on Friday morning) to the Oltroarno, specifically to the Pitti Palace. It is a very impressive site -- almost TOO impressive! Room upon room is filled with gold-framed art and lush ceiling frescos. What stands out are the rooms that are different: the tiled bathroom, the magnificent stairwell with its views of the Duomo. In the set of rooms decorated in 18th century style we feel as if we are walking through the same room over and over, each time in a different color: green, blue, red, white. It takes quite a long time to go through, and by the end we are skimming.
Looking forward to a breath of fresh air and a different experience, we head out to the Boboli gardens. These are a bit of a disappointment. Perhaps I am overly tired, but I find them lacking in charm and energy. Maybe it is an effect of their being a tourist site rather than a public garden? I cannot help but compare them (unfavorably) to the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens in Paris, which we visited three years ago at the same time of the year. I do however find something of interest in the strange, creepy “grotto” with its facsimile of stalactites and stalagmites, and earthy, almost pagan vibe.
We eat lunch at a restaurant recommended in our ACCESS guidebook, which I don’t recall the name of. My fresh ravioli stuffed with pecorino and pear in a walnut sauce was very tasty, and the bread basket included a foccacia that was actually salted (unlike much of the bland Tuscan bread we had elsewhere).
From there Bob and I headed off on our own to make our way up to San Miniato al Monte with hopes of hearing the evening chanting for Vespers. We enjoyed our walk through the neighborhoods of the Oltroarno, and up the steep sloping walk to the church and abbey. The views were incredible! It was particularly lovely to sit there in the sun, looking out over the panoramic view. I also was very relieved to find trees and green spaces, and to look down over the hills with their olive trees. If I were to stay again in Florence I would wish to stay in nearer to this section of town, I think.
We arrived early, and thus spent an hour just watching the view, and being stalked by a particular white pigeon. The bathrooms were our first “squat toilets” of the trip. At last it was time, and we headed inside to the dim church. Of particular note were some frescos that had been recently found on one wall, and which included a “sketch” in preparation for one that was never completed.
Sadly the service itself is a disappointment, for two reasons. Firstly, the monks themselves seem flustered, moving back and forth, dropping things, running this way and that to set up (and it is not clear where exactly they would be holding the service -- it ends up being in the crypt area below the main hall, so the entire gathered crowd must all shuffle down when we realize our error). And some of the monks are late! Secondly (and most frustratingly), not one but TWO tour buses drop off packs of tourists during the service, and each group shuffles noisily down in the middle of the service, whispering and scuffing their feet, answering cellphone calls (!) and going off to light votives noisily in the corners. And then they all leave again after a few minutes! It is so incredibly frustrating, and so massively different than the beautiful serenity of San Antimo! Oh well! I can only hope it is not like that all the time. I am very sorry for the monks.
We console our frazzled nerves with Vivoli gelato. It is very good, and is also the first and only place we have to pay for the gelato first, then bring the receipt over to have the scooper fill our order.
We eat at home and retire for the night, to be well rested in order to lug all our baggage to the train station for the second part of our trip: VENICE!
Venice will get a separate post.
Saturday, October 10th: My husband Bob and I set off on our long-anticipated Italian escapade! We each have a single bag that can convert to be carried like a backpack that we will check, and a carry-on. My carry-on is full of novels (more than I need, but I love to read and have a great fear of being caught without a book!), a few guidebooks, and a sheaf of printouts from the Slow Travel website on important topics like how to shop in an Italian market and how to order gelato. I also have lists of restaurants, gelaterias, and the entire list of recommendations from Divina Cucina.
We will be meeting my parents at the airport in Boston for an overnight flight to Florence (transferring at Charles de Gaulle). Rather than drive down from Maine, we decide to take the convenient bus service ($44 each round trip) on Concord Trailways, from Portland to Logan Airport. We take what may be our last opportunity for some time to feast on tasty Indian food. Fortified with samosa and chicken tikka masala, we are on our way!
The Air France planes are comfortable and they provide a handy packet of earplugs and eyemask. I actually manage to sleep for a good part of the trans-Atlantic flight. The supper is also surprisingly tasty and comes with a cute little menu (which I keep as a souvenir, travel geek that I am).
Sunday October 11th: The passport check and transfer at CDG go smoothly, and before long we are flying into the morning sunshine. The views as we fly over the Alps are incredible! A panoramic vista of snow-topped mountains gives way slowly to brown and green hills, and soon enough we begin seeing clusters of red-roofed houses. I spot what looks like the white gorges of a marble quarry, and then dozens of turquoise blue pools marking the agriturismos and fancy villas dotting the countryside. And then.... a cloud of misty gray where Florence ought to be.
We circle for a while, but the fog doesn’t break up, and ultimately we are re-routed to Bologna. We survive by identifying a capable looking man in a beret from our plane and following him, since Air France doesn’t bother to tell us what is going on or where to go (or if they do, the intercom is so bad we can’t hear it). One of the other passengers has to corral an Air France rep to get the scoop, and then she (bless her!) tells the rest of us what’s going on (we will take buses). By the time we do get to Florence, the fog has lifted and it is a sunny hot day!
We take a taxi to our apartment at the Palazzo Gamba, right in the heart of the city. Despite our jet-lag, we are thrilled by that first glimpse of the Duomo, rising up from the white-green-pink marble splendor of Santa Maria del Fiore. We sweep into our apartment, marveling at the enormously tall ceilings, and throw open the windows. From our small balcony I can study every vein of the marble, we are so close!
The apartment is clean and spacious, though a bit cold, more like a hotel room than a home. The location is both boon and bane: we are steps away from everything, but it is very noisy with tourists, traffic, and ambulances throughout the night. Mom, Bob and I immediately take naps, while Dad ventures out bravely on his own for groceries: milk, Coca-Cola light, and delicious blood orange juice. I wake up after only an hour, too excited to sleep further, so Dad and I head out to amble around. We see the Piazza della Repubblica and a church open to the street offering free entry to an ongoing organ music performance (as we later discover, this is pretty much a nightly affair). I spot one of the recommended gelaterias: GROM! There is a long line, but it is worth it. I have decided that pistachio will be my default flavor, so I can have some basis of comparison. It is very tasty with a strong cream flavor.
We return to the apartment to pick up Mom and Bob, and decide to take a stroll toward the Arno and look for a place to have dinner. We make our way along the Via del Calzaioli to the Piazza della Signoria, where we pause for a bit to admire the statues (including the reproduction of David). I check out Rivoire and hope I will have the chance to return later (though as it turns out, I don’t!). The press of the crowds is somewhat oppressive, and I am finding the amount of smoke a little hard to deal with. There is a lot of hustle and bustle everywhere, which is both exciting and a bit wearying.
We cross the Ponte Vecchio, admiring the old shops (mostly closed as it is Sunday). In a bid to escape some of the crowds we turn immediately right after crossing the bridge and head up a less crowded side-street. There we discover Osteria Chingale Bianco, one of the much-recommended restaurants on my list. It appears they have just opened for dinner as hardly any tables are taken. Mom bravely goes in and asks if we can have a table for four. Yes! We enjoy a delicious first meal in Florence. None of us are up to a full several course meal, so we all order either a primo (pasta) or a segundo (meat) but not both. My Pumpkin Ravioli with Butter and Sage is delicious, as is Mom’s pasta with Eggplant. Bob tries the Polenta and Chiangale (Wild Boar), while Dad has a deliciously garlicy Chicken with Roasted Potatoes. We also split some bruscetta (the tomatoes are so sweet and good!) and prosciutto with melon (interesting, but I like the melon on its own best).
We walk home, stopping so that Bob can get a gelato of his own (from GROM, where the lines are now much shorter). He likes it but the chocolate flavor is a bit too dark for his tastes (he prefers milk chocolate). Then it’s to bed to get ready for our first full day!
Monday October 12th:
It rains overnight, and the morning dawns with a dismal grayness that we optimistically (and foolishly) ignore. After a breakfast of toast we head out to the Cappelle Medici. We arrive early and there is no line for tickets, so we each purchase the combo tickets to enter the church and the library and treasury. We spend some peaceful moments in the cloister, breathing in the fresh wet air that smells of boxwood. Then we head up to view the Laurentine Library. It’s an impressive room and we have fun imagining the rows of stalls filled with ancient colorful tomes. Beyond this is the display of old scrolls, books, and papers, from papyrus divorce documents to wax tablets to beautifully illuminated bibles to “magic scrolls”. There’s also a bathroom (allowing us to implement one of our main rules of travel: always use the bathroom when you have the chance). Unfortunately I suddenly have a coughing fit (I had been sick the week before we left and thought I was recovered but either the dust or the smoke is apparently setting me off). I gasp my way out to the cloister again to recover, where we discover it has started to rain. We duck next door to the church itself and hope it will stop.
The church is impressive (inside, at least) but oddly does not feel holy to Bob or I. In fact we agree that it reminds us of the chilly great hall of Denethor in the Lord of the Rings movie. Perhaps it’s an appropriate comparison! In the sacristy next door (designed by Brunelleschi, famous for his work on the Duomo) I found more appealing design, particularly in the gorgeous dome painted a deep vibrant blue and starred with the outlines of constellations.
The rain had not abated but fortunately Dad has craftily hidden an umbrella in his many-pocketed photographer’s vest without any of the rest of us realizing it. He goes back to the apartment for our other rain gear, and once outfitted we head for the nearby Mercato Centrale.
We divide up to find suitable lunch and dinner fixins. The very helpful and charming staff at Gastronomia Perini help me select some oversized tortellini, dried tomato pesto, a slice of cheese and some hard salami. Then I go looking for the recommended Pany Da Lory but cannot find it. I finally settle on another bakery that looks interesting, only to discover, when I check the receipt, that it WAS Pany da Lory! I get two small loaves of seeded bread. Bob in the meantime has scored a bunch of roasted chicken and potatoes, and we pick up green beans -- carefully asking the proprietor to get them for us having been warned that Italian produce shops are not self-serve as in the US!
Back home we dry off and feast on the chicken, potatoes and green beans. By the time we finish the weather has cleared, so we head off to explore the area north of us. We walk past the Accademia gallery but none of us feels the overwhelming need to visit it. We do, however, stop at Carebe for gelato. The pistachio is much nuttier, flecked with bits of nut, and quite delicious. We wend our way into the Piazza de Santissima Annunziata, which is (according to one guidebook) one of the most perfectly proportioned in Florence. It is indeed lovely, framed with loggias and quite empty. As Bob says, it would be an excellent setting for an angry mob. Spotting the entry to the church, we figure we might as well check it out, and boy are we glad we do! It is one of our favorites of the entire trip, with a remarkable aura of peace, and glorious gold-bedecked ceilings that lift your spirits upward. In a side chapel I find a haunting painting of a woman, her pale face emerging from shadows, turned upward in awe and reverence and perhaps some sorrow. I have not been able to find an image online and could not see a painter, but the inscription of the chapel referenced a Dona Barbara. I wonder who this mysterious woman is, and light a candle for her.
The attached cloister is also worth a visit. We enjoy the frescos, particularly several that feature a dog in the crowd. We wonder if the painter had such a dog.
Next we visit the Archaeology museum, but it is a disappointment. The setup is confused and the staff are cold, unsmiling and grouchy. The numbering of the rooms is not clear and we suspect even the Italian labels are not very clear. I do enjoy visiting the rooms of Egyptian artifacts, which are dim and spooky and filled with the staring painted eyes of sarcophagi. The gardens look lovely and inviting but are off-limits. We depart, and pledge to tell others it is not worth the price of admission!
We spend some time trying to find what looks like a public park on our map, only to discover that all the green areas are in fact private parks. I am to discover this is the start of a trend-- there seem to be very few, if any, green spaces (or even trees!) out in the open in Florence. I find it oppressive and miss the lovely parks in Paris where I could sit and people-watch.
Back in the apartment we cook our dinner of tortellini with sundried tomato pesto and green beans, and have cheese, salami and tomato antipasti. It is all delicious!
After dinner Bob and I go get our second gelato of the day at Perche No. I try the semifreddo (tiramisu flavor) and surprise myself by preferring gelato. The frothy lightness of the semifreddo feels almost too insubstantial to eat.
Tuesday, October 13th:
Today we have arranged a tour with Luca of Hills and Roads. We are all very excited for the chance to see the countryside! I sip my tea looking up from our balcony at the beautiful crescent moon hanging against the clear blue sky over the Duomo. The rain has gone (and as it turns out, it will not return again for the rest of our trip! Clearly we won the weather lottery!).
At 9:30 Luca finds us waiting on the street outside our apartment, just as promised. He is a charming and well-spoken man, with a wealth of information about Italy. He puts us all at ease.
We begin the trip by driving through the woody hills of the Chianti Collie to a tiny hilltop castle village with a population of only around 50. It is named Montebenichi, and it is adorably quaint and picturesque. Every window seems to sport white lace curtains, and everywhere we look there are bright potted flowers, old gray stone, and sleepy cats.
Continuing on, we move into the Crete Sinisi landscape, with the familiar brown hills lined with dark spikes of cypress. We stop for a bathroom break and drinks and cough drops (I have another scary coughing fit in the van) at Asciano. This is also a town built around a castle, but it is still active and has a more modern feel. We wander the town, admiring the old walls, peering up at grandmas watching us out their windows, and finding odd nooks. Dad picks some green grapes growing on a wall and declares them tasty!
But the rest of us are getting hungry too and we don’t have much time to eat before we need to be at our next stop. Luca drives us on to the Val d’Orcia region and Montalcino, which is sun-drenched and gorgeous. We feast on one of the simplest but best meals of our entire trip: fat homemade spaghetti-like pasta called “pinci” with tomato sauce. I dream of that pasta several times in the following week!
We are in a hurry because one of my must-see sites is the San Antimo Abbey, and I really wanted to be there to hear the chanting at one of the services.
As we drive along the winding roads and the Abbey comes into view I experience a thrill: I had not actually looked at pictures of the buildings, only read other trip reports that sung its praises. But still I recognized the structure, because it was the image I had randomly chosen as a desktop image on my computer! And it is a very striking vista, with the pale elegant lines of the Abbey rising against the deep green valley, punctuated by a single dark cypress that parallels the tower.
We head directly into the hall, and find a lofty space filled with golden light. There are no stained glass windows and very little decoration, but this is the most spiritual spot I have encountered thus far in Italy (and will continue to hold that title for the rest of the trip). After a short time, a side door opens and 7 or 8 white-robed monks sweep in gracefully. They range in age from an old white-haired gentleman who trembles when he stands to a young fellow in his twenties, perhaps, who looks book rapt and driven. Without any fuss or muss, they take their places and begin the 15 minute service. I could have listened for much longer! Some sing with heart-stirring virtuosity, others with more faith than beauty, but it is all very moving and I will remember it for a long time.
After the service we wander the grounds, visiting some of the few centuries-old olive trees to escape a late frost some years ago. It is a special and magical place, even with a couple dozen other tourists on the site. I hope I can return some day!
From the Abbey we head off to Castiglion d’Orcia, a remarkable medium-sized hill-top town with a madcap M. C. Escher feel to the streets, with their jumble of stairways, sloping ramps and passages shooting off every-which-way. Sadly my memory card dies just in the middle of this visit, and I lose all my photos to this point! Oh well! It’s a good thing Bob and Dad were also taking pictures!
By this time I’ve had another coughing fit, and we are getting tired, so we decide to skip the planned visit to Pienza to sample cheeses, and instead pause only long enough to note that it is a very pretty but highly touristed town, and to use a restroom!
Back in Florence Luca drops us off near our apartment. We pay him (using a credit card) and thank him for an absolutely wonderful day! We eat leftovers and go to bed early.
Wednesday October 14th:
In the morning Dad climbs the Duomo. I decide not to join him for fear it will aggravate my cough. We see him up on the walkway and wave from our apartment balcony below. He returns to say the climb was not too bad, and the views were very nice. We have both read Brunelleschi’s Dome and were thus curious to see the masterpiece of engineering in real life!
Mom and I go out thinking maybe we will have hot chocolate at Rivoire, but it is too cold to sit outside. Instead we try cornetto filled with chocolate from a recommended pastry shop named Scudieri’s on the corner near the Baptistry. These things are absolutely divine! They are warm, buttery and crisp. As you sink your teeth into the layers of pastry, a glorious pudding-like chocolate oozes out (and occasionally dribbles down your chin because you are so enraptured by the taste you don’t notice).
Today we visit the Bargello in the morning. It is a gorgeous museum, and I am grateful for the thinner crowds. After purchasing tickets, you can step out into the wide courtyard, edged covered walks like a cloister, with a massive stone staircase leading up to a covered loggia on the second level. All the interior walls are decorated by dozens of elaborate sigils, and the ceilings of the loggias are painted in patterns of red blue and green, with pale ribs of stone holding them aloft. Statuary is scattered about, and there is an old well at the center of the yard. Having acquired a new memory card from a shop near the apartment, I snap dozens of photos!
The exhibits themselves are extensive and very interesting. I take note of the Donatello sculptures, the plates with Renaissance designs, the dim Persian room glimmering with gold and copper, and an array of 16th century clocks. The Donatello Room is a sight just for the room itself, with a vast high ceiling. I spent a lot of time just sitting, absorbing the atmosphere, listening to chants and Renaissance music on my iPod.
We lunch at a recommended restaurant called La Baroanda, which we almost did not find because it doesn’t have that name outside anymore (though there is a sign inside and the address is the same). I have the menu di Giorno of pasta carbonara followed by sausages with spinach. All delicious! The service is also very good.
Fortified, we continue on to Santa Croce. I have just enough time to see the many tombs (Rossini, Fermi, Gallileo, Machiavelli) before another coughing fit drives me outside, gagging and breathless. We decide I have to see a doctor as I am having trouble breathing and scaring my family (and myself). Fortunately I have thought to copy down information from the Rick Steves website about an English doctor who specializes in treating tourists. The info on the website is a correction to the guidebook, as the doctor has recently relocated. We send Dad off to Fiesole without us, and Mom and Bob escort me to see Dr Kerr. We locate the offices on the Piazza Mercato Nuovo (#1). I fill out some paperwork and Dr Kerr sees me only a few minutes later. It is very easy and convenient, and the pharmacy right downstairs is able to fill my prescription for antibiotics and cough syrup. Even better, Dr Kerr says I should take one of the pills right away “with something to eat, like gelato”. Nothing better than being prescribed ice cream!
We head off to Gelateria Del Neri. The offerings there are excellent, one of my favorites of the trip. And the medicine does the trick -- I have no more scary coughing fits after that, whew! But the cough syrup does knock me out, so we head home to rest. Bob and I go out for a late dinner at an unremarkable restaurant, then some more gelato at a place right next to Vestri Chocolates (which was closed). It is very good!
Thursday October 15th:
We dedicate our last day in Florence (we will be leaving by train for Venice on Friday morning) to the Oltroarno, specifically to the Pitti Palace. It is a very impressive site -- almost TOO impressive! Room upon room is filled with gold-framed art and lush ceiling frescos. What stands out are the rooms that are different: the tiled bathroom, the magnificent stairwell with its views of the Duomo. In the set of rooms decorated in 18th century style we feel as if we are walking through the same room over and over, each time in a different color: green, blue, red, white. It takes quite a long time to go through, and by the end we are skimming.
Looking forward to a breath of fresh air and a different experience, we head out to the Boboli gardens. These are a bit of a disappointment. Perhaps I am overly tired, but I find them lacking in charm and energy. Maybe it is an effect of their being a tourist site rather than a public garden? I cannot help but compare them (unfavorably) to the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens in Paris, which we visited three years ago at the same time of the year. I do however find something of interest in the strange, creepy “grotto” with its facsimile of stalactites and stalagmites, and earthy, almost pagan vibe.
We eat lunch at a restaurant recommended in our ACCESS guidebook, which I don’t recall the name of. My fresh ravioli stuffed with pecorino and pear in a walnut sauce was very tasty, and the bread basket included a foccacia that was actually salted (unlike much of the bland Tuscan bread we had elsewhere).
From there Bob and I headed off on our own to make our way up to San Miniato al Monte with hopes of hearing the evening chanting for Vespers. We enjoyed our walk through the neighborhoods of the Oltroarno, and up the steep sloping walk to the church and abbey. The views were incredible! It was particularly lovely to sit there in the sun, looking out over the panoramic view. I also was very relieved to find trees and green spaces, and to look down over the hills with their olive trees. If I were to stay again in Florence I would wish to stay in nearer to this section of town, I think.
We arrived early, and thus spent an hour just watching the view, and being stalked by a particular white pigeon. The bathrooms were our first “squat toilets” of the trip. At last it was time, and we headed inside to the dim church. Of particular note were some frescos that had been recently found on one wall, and which included a “sketch” in preparation for one that was never completed.
Sadly the service itself is a disappointment, for two reasons. Firstly, the monks themselves seem flustered, moving back and forth, dropping things, running this way and that to set up (and it is not clear where exactly they would be holding the service -- it ends up being in the crypt area below the main hall, so the entire gathered crowd must all shuffle down when we realize our error). And some of the monks are late! Secondly (and most frustratingly), not one but TWO tour buses drop off packs of tourists during the service, and each group shuffles noisily down in the middle of the service, whispering and scuffing their feet, answering cellphone calls (!) and going off to light votives noisily in the corners. And then they all leave again after a few minutes! It is so incredibly frustrating, and so massively different than the beautiful serenity of San Antimo! Oh well! I can only hope it is not like that all the time. I am very sorry for the monks.
We console our frazzled nerves with Vivoli gelato. It is very good, and is also the first and only place we have to pay for the gelato first, then bring the receipt over to have the scooper fill our order.
We eat at home and retire for the night, to be well rested in order to lug all our baggage to the train station for the second part of our trip: VENICE!
Venice will get a separate post.
