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After my day trip to Venice, Ken and I hopped another fast train for Florence. My interest in Florence dates back to a few years ago when I first read E.M. Forster's A Room with a View and became a bit enamored with the descriptions of the city. And while Florence wasn't exactly as I had pictured it, it remains one of the more pleasant places I've ever been. Part of my favorable impression came from the comfortable accommodations Ken had booked us--it's always easier to like a place if you're staying in a clean, comfortable room with lots of hot water. The fact that our hostel was in a renaissance villa with a frescoed ceiling in the reception area and, equally important, really cheap beer in the cafeteria didn't hurt either.  The entrance court of our hostel in Florence. The city in general is very beautiful and is of a comfortably walkable size, though we did have to take a bus a little ways out to get to our hostel. The River Arno winds its way through the center of the city and is crossed by several bridges--the ponte vechio being the most famous and picturesque. The most amazing thing about the city, though, is probably the cathedral. The object of much lore, it features a famous dome by Brunelleschi. And it's breathtaking. Ken and I climbed to the top of the dome and the view from the top was fantastic--more than worth the several hundred stairs. The interior of the church is, for the most part, very simple, almost stark. A major exception is the bright colored fresco that coveres the inside of the dome.  The interior of the dome. Hmm... There are many other things I'm sure I should say about Florence. The Ufizzi Gallery is gi-nourmous. The Botticelli Birth of Venus ('Venus in a half shell') is really pretty. David (in the Academia) is awe-inspiring, even if he has a little bit of scaffolding around him at the moment. The Arno is very scenic. What can I say? Florence is nifty. Book your flights now. So off to Rome. (And, gasp!, no pictures here either!). Since I'm really tired and want to finish this web site before another two months go by, I think I'll just give you a few select impressions of Rome. Roman ruins: I've seen pictures of the coliseum and the forum and what not all my life--but it was still damn cool in person. The coliseum has really friendly cats everywhere--apparently old Italian woman come out everyday and feed them pasta. (I'm not making this up. It's in a guide book.) In addition to cats, the coliseum is also surrounded by dozens of gladiators, or, more accurately, skinny Italian men in gladiator costumes who will let you take their pictures for a little cash. (This is an example of the kind of thing you won't find in Milan.) Saint Peter's: I expected Saint Peter's to be a terrifically holy and sacred place. After all, it's the mother church of the catholic faith and host cathedral to the pope. The place was decidedly different from what I expected. All of the pews had been removed during the week to allow tourists more room to move about and, in anticipation for the Saturday services, they were starting to replace the seating by moving it back in with little electric powered trucks and trailers. Around the altar another worker made endless circles on a elaborate waxing machine not unlike a zamboni. All told there must have been half a dozen small electric vehicles buzzing about various parts of the cathedral, which--call me old fashioned!--I thought was bit strange. While fleeing from the path of one of these things my eye was caught by a strange fluorescent glare coming from one of the monuments on the side of the church. As I drew closer I realized what I was looking at: underneath a large monument to a departed pope was a large glass panel behind which lay (brightly lit!) the, ahem, mortal remains of aforementioned pontiff. Of course, it's not nearly as ghoulish as it sounds--the face was covered with a wax mask and all other parts were clothed as if he had just finished saying mass. As I walked through the church I noticed that there were dozens of other dead popes, all with there own little fluorescently lit bodies behind glass. At one tomb (a 18th century pope, I think) I heard an older American lady exclaim (in complete seriousness) something about how it must be miracle of God that this man is so well preserved after so much time. No lady, it's wax. (By her logic, Madam Tussaud's must be the holy land.) With its truly gargantuan size (emphasized by brass inlays in the floor showing how much smaller other famous churches are) and bustling atmosphere, I can't help but think of St. Peter's as the biggest, fanciest barn in all of christendom. Vatican Museum: I grew up believing that the pope's job was to act as an intermediary between God and the people of earth. That's what they taught us in Sunday school. What they left out was that, when not busy conversing with God, popes through the ages have been keeping busy hoarding a good portion of the worlds art and treasure. The first few galleries of this endless museum blow you away. Beautiful rooms overflowing with priceless sculptures from every era and every corner of the world. But, as the hours pass and you continue through the miles of linear galleries, it becomes a case of major over-stimulus. Not another Raphael ceiling! (Groan.) And all the time they keep you moving with hundreds of arrow-displaying signs indicating that the Sistine Chapel is ahead. It's a lot like the proverbial donkey and carrot-on-a-string trick--tourists would apparently cross the sahara to see Michelangelo's ceiling. When you finally emerge from your long journey, the Sistine Chapel is full of people in the process of being amazed. Some are audibly gasping. Others seem to be holding back tears. Mostly they just stand and stare and figure they are in an amazing place. And, yeah, they are. Gelato: Among the great Italian wonders--St. Marks, St. Peters, David, Venus, the Pope, the colliseum cats--there is one that is significantly tastier than the rest: gelato. For those who don't know, gelato is a distinctively Italian creation a lot like ice cream but better. I've never had satisfying gelato outside of Italy--who knows why. The moral of the story: when in Italy, put your diet on hold--this stuff is too good to miss. |
Part 1 - Milan and Venice Part 2 - Florence and Rome  The bell tower of the Florence Cathedral. |
