This morning we caught a commuter train to Arezzo, which was an interesting experience in itself. Though it's been decades since I traveled by train in Europe, I remember it as being quite a pleasant way to move from place to place. This train didn't disappoint. Though it stopped many times between the two cities, it was comfortable, cool, and very smooth - a marvel of electricity and automation.
What had been planned as an all-day excursion had to be shortened because our group has been invited to a little celebration of our visit put on by the proprietors and staff of our most excellent hotel. It was decided that we would spend only a couple of hours in Arezzo so as to have most of the afternoon in Florence to do a few last-minute errands, complete our packing, and enjoy our party.
Arezzo is a lovely town. We had an opportunity to visit the Chapel of St. Francis and view the wonderful frescoes depicting the Legend of the True Cross. We also visited Il Gelato, which is one of the Top 10 shops listed in our guidebook. The gelato is homemade and features some unusual flavors. Mike and I had some of the pine nut flavor. Delicioso indeed! Bill suggested that I point out the reference to his little shop in our guidebook to the proprietor, and when I did, he smiled and said he already knew that. Guess we weren't the first Americans to seek him out . . . .
Upon our return to Florence, we came back to our hotel and got as much packing done as we could before we finish up tonight. As our flight leaves at 6:30 a.m., we'll be up in the middle of the night, catching a cab. Needless to say, the less we have to do at 4:00 a.m., the better.
Mike and I decided we would take one last leisurely stroll around the neighborhood. After a very successful visit to a leather shop (a new PURPLE bag), we wandered the streets in a section that is frequented by the many college students who are doing study abroad here in the summertime. We found a little bar, sat on the street and had a coffee and a beer, and just indulged in a little people-watching. What a treat! We're trying to inhale the ambiance of Florence and keep these images fresh until we can get home and look at our photos and match them up with our recollection. Even though we had thought two weeks would be enough, that we could then move on to travel to other cities and countries, we now admit that the idea of a return visit is extremely attractive. After all, we have discovered a perfect hotel and know this city like the back of our hands! Well, maybe not so much - but we are certainly comfortable wandering on our own. The presence of the Duomo, visible from almost anywhere in the central city, gives us a landmark by which to find our way back to our very comfortable "home." We love it here.
So now I sit and record these thoughts in the hotel bar. Today is very hot, so the window is closed and the air conditioning is turned on in the bar for the first time since we arrived. We listen to Pierpaolo as he deals with new arrivals and answers the phone, shifting easily from Italian to English and back to Italian. The large flat-screen TV in the now-deserted breakfast area chatters away, featuring a sort of Italian soap opera (we think). It's just another late afternoon in Florence, at Hotel Casci, Via Cavour 13. How we will miss all of this!
Monday, June 23, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
The Pitti Palace and LOTS of shopping
This morning everyone slept in a bit, then a few of us gathered and set out for the Pitti Palace. As we were in no hurry, we went by the mercato nuovo to let one of our group put a coin in the boar's mouth. It slipped from the boar's bronze tongue right down into the grate - which means that Fran will return to this citta bellissima.
Onward to the Pitti Palace, once the home of the Medicis, then later remodeled and refurbished by Lorraine-Hapsburgs. What an amazing place! We wandered the Palatine Gallery and the royal apartments and most thoroughly enjoyed our peek into Napoleon's bathroom (which Rick Steves assures us he never used, and we have found our boy Rick to be completely authoritative!)
After a quick walk through a portion of the Boboli Gardens and a peek inside the Grotto, we moved across the street and had a bit of lunch and some acqua naturale (and used the W.C.) Then we started our serious shopping. On our initial trip we had spotted a jewelry store that was more reasonable than the gold markets along the Ponte Vecchio, so on our trip back, we stopped and browsed the earrings. We looked at fabulous mosaic work, wonderful leather gloves lined with cashmere, and T-shirts. I really wanted one that said "Ciao, Bella" in rhinestones, but they were definitely sized for young women who weigh 85 pounds - not for those of us with more matronly figures. But I may go back tomorrow . . . .
Now we're back at the hotel, finishing up little dribs and drabs of bottles of wine, some cheese, some crackers, some pesto. I sit in my favorite spot near the open window, writing these words and chatting with friends, sipping the wine. We are waiting for the six of our group who journeyed to Rome this weekend, and plan to have dinner with them and hear all about their adventures. We have become a close-knit group, thoroughly enjoying each other, laughing at our misadventures and marveling at the serendipitous happenings we've encountered. For instance, at last count Mike and I have seen four bridal parties, one of which had groomsmen clothed in kilts! This was in Cortona, and was surprising, to say the least.
We have chatted with vendors and gracious salespeople from all over the world. Some speak English, some speak a tiny bit of English, and some speak no English at all. All of them have been smiling and friendly, and with our cobbled-together Italian, we have done just fine. We startled one sandwich-maker with a request for bruschetta with tomatoes AND cheese, but for the most part, folks just smile and give us that "crazy Americans" look and wish us buongiorno or buona sera - or perhaps even give us a "ciao" as we leave a shop. We are old hands. If we had just one more week . . . .
Onward to the Pitti Palace, once the home of the Medicis, then later remodeled and refurbished by Lorraine-Hapsburgs. What an amazing place! We wandered the Palatine Gallery and the royal apartments and most thoroughly enjoyed our peek into Napoleon's bathroom (which Rick Steves assures us he never used, and we have found our boy Rick to be completely authoritative!)
After a quick walk through a portion of the Boboli Gardens and a peek inside the Grotto, we moved across the street and had a bit of lunch and some acqua naturale (and used the W.C.) Then we started our serious shopping. On our initial trip we had spotted a jewelry store that was more reasonable than the gold markets along the Ponte Vecchio, so on our trip back, we stopped and browsed the earrings. We looked at fabulous mosaic work, wonderful leather gloves lined with cashmere, and T-shirts. I really wanted one that said "Ciao, Bella" in rhinestones, but they were definitely sized for young women who weigh 85 pounds - not for those of us with more matronly figures. But I may go back tomorrow . . . .
Now we're back at the hotel, finishing up little dribs and drabs of bottles of wine, some cheese, some crackers, some pesto. I sit in my favorite spot near the open window, writing these words and chatting with friends, sipping the wine. We are waiting for the six of our group who journeyed to Rome this weekend, and plan to have dinner with them and hear all about their adventures. We have become a close-knit group, thoroughly enjoying each other, laughing at our misadventures and marveling at the serendipitous happenings we've encountered. For instance, at last count Mike and I have seen four bridal parties, one of which had groomsmen clothed in kilts! This was in Cortona, and was surprising, to say the least.
We have chatted with vendors and gracious salespeople from all over the world. Some speak English, some speak a tiny bit of English, and some speak no English at all. All of them have been smiling and friendly, and with our cobbled-together Italian, we have done just fine. We startled one sandwich-maker with a request for bruschetta with tomatoes AND cheese, but for the most part, folks just smile and give us that "crazy Americans" look and wish us buongiorno or buona sera - or perhaps even give us a "ciao" as we leave a shop. We are old hands. If we had just one more week . . . .
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Today, a time to stroll, explore, tie up some loose ends - and eat!
It's almost 10:30 p.m. here in Florence, and I'm stuffed.
Today we ventured out around 11:00 a.m. and walked over to Santa Maria Novella to visit the Officina Farmacia, where wonderful cosmetics and natural remedies are compounded in the same manner and using the same materials that were developed by the monks and have been used for centuries. It's a beautiful small shop that smells absolutely divine. How many such places are worthy of photographs? We took some, smelled a few things, and bought a little.
After returning to the hotel to drop off our purchases, we decided to make our final trip to the Uffizi. Bill has advised us from the beginning of our pilgrimage that the Uffizi is most satisfying when taken in small sips rather than big gulps. We chose three artists, Raphael, Titian, and Caravaggio. What a pleasure to really study the paintings, trying to "read" them as Bill has shown us. We loved the Titians most of all.
Looking for just a little snack for lunch, we popped into the Da Vinci museum. This exhibit contains models built from Da Vinci's drawings, and they are truly amazing. For a mere eight euro, we got a slice of pizza, a drink and an admission ticket. We spent a lovely half hour browsing the machines, marveling at the genius of Leonardo. I'm thinking he was an alien among us. In addition to writing up his ideas in script that read from left to right, he dreamt of things that he couldn't possibly have anticipated: helicopters, tanks, automobile differential systems, and some truly wicked weapons of war.
At 3:30, we met our group back at the hotel, ordered two taxis, and set off to the lovely mountain village of Fiesole. High atop the city, Fiesole is very, very old. It contains some truly fascinating Etruscan and Roman ruins. We browsed the archaeological museum and marveled at the ancient finds preserved there. I cannot imagine the reaction of the scientists who found the first of these tombs. There are actually small drinking glasses that are intact, some of them buried with their owners 2,000 years ago. The excitement must have been overwhelming!
After a small break for caffee latte in the tiny shaded bar, we ventured up a very, very steep hilly street that wound around into another very, very steep hilly street and found our restaurant. Our reservation was for 7:00 p.m., and we were seated right on the dot. Since we are in Italy, we were the first patrons to arrive. We old Americans dine very early in the evening by Italian standards. (By the time we left around 9:00 p.m., the place was full!) We had a very beautiful and delicious meal, probably the most elaborate one yet, complete with aperitivo and bruschetta offered at no charge by the house, followed by antipasto and our main courses. Some of the braver among us had dessert. Then we had to get ourselves back down that hilly street and into our cabs to return to our hotel.Probably a good thing - we certainly needed a little exercise after all of that lovely food.
As I sit in the small bar here at the Hotel Casci, I can hear the sounds of the street outside the open windows. A light breeze is blowing, and there are large groups of young people walking below. It's Saturday night. World Cup Soccer is on the TV, and all eyes are on the screen. I'm tired - and stuffed! To bed. Tomorrow, the Pitti Palace, the Boboli Gardens, and the Palazzo Vecchio.
Today we ventured out around 11:00 a.m. and walked over to Santa Maria Novella to visit the Officina Farmacia, where wonderful cosmetics and natural remedies are compounded in the same manner and using the same materials that were developed by the monks and have been used for centuries. It's a beautiful small shop that smells absolutely divine. How many such places are worthy of photographs? We took some, smelled a few things, and bought a little.
After returning to the hotel to drop off our purchases, we decided to make our final trip to the Uffizi. Bill has advised us from the beginning of our pilgrimage that the Uffizi is most satisfying when taken in small sips rather than big gulps. We chose three artists, Raphael, Titian, and Caravaggio. What a pleasure to really study the paintings, trying to "read" them as Bill has shown us. We loved the Titians most of all.
Looking for just a little snack for lunch, we popped into the Da Vinci museum. This exhibit contains models built from Da Vinci's drawings, and they are truly amazing. For a mere eight euro, we got a slice of pizza, a drink and an admission ticket. We spent a lovely half hour browsing the machines, marveling at the genius of Leonardo. I'm thinking he was an alien among us. In addition to writing up his ideas in script that read from left to right, he dreamt of things that he couldn't possibly have anticipated: helicopters, tanks, automobile differential systems, and some truly wicked weapons of war.
At 3:30, we met our group back at the hotel, ordered two taxis, and set off to the lovely mountain village of Fiesole. High atop the city, Fiesole is very, very old. It contains some truly fascinating Etruscan and Roman ruins. We browsed the archaeological museum and marveled at the ancient finds preserved there. I cannot imagine the reaction of the scientists who found the first of these tombs. There are actually small drinking glasses that are intact, some of them buried with their owners 2,000 years ago. The excitement must have been overwhelming!
After a small break for caffee latte in the tiny shaded bar, we ventured up a very, very steep hilly street that wound around into another very, very steep hilly street and found our restaurant. Our reservation was for 7:00 p.m., and we were seated right on the dot. Since we are in Italy, we were the first patrons to arrive. We old Americans dine very early in the evening by Italian standards. (By the time we left around 9:00 p.m., the place was full!) We had a very beautiful and delicious meal, probably the most elaborate one yet, complete with aperitivo and bruschetta offered at no charge by the house, followed by antipasto and our main courses. Some of the braver among us had dessert. Then we had to get ourselves back down that hilly street and into our cabs to return to our hotel.Probably a good thing - we certainly needed a little exercise after all of that lovely food.
As I sit in the small bar here at the Hotel Casci, I can hear the sounds of the street outside the open windows. A light breeze is blowing, and there are large groups of young people walking below. It's Saturday night. World Cup Soccer is on the TV, and all eyes are on the screen. I'm tired - and stuffed! To bed. Tomorrow, the Pitti Palace, the Boboli Gardens, and the Palazzo Vecchio.
Friday, June 20, 2014
We're are so comfortable here, and . . . .
This morning Bill delivered his last lecture to us. He spoke of sculpture and the color green. We were to visit the Bargello this afternoon, and it's been his practice all week to prepare us for what we will see in our wanderings.
Class was cut a bit short in order to give us time to visit places we haven't made it to quite yet. Mike and I feasted on salami, cheese, bread, and chips in our room, then set out for the San Marco monastery. It is fascinating. Each monk's cell has its own fresco. The cell reserved for Cosimo Medici (who certainly wasn't a monk, but often came to San Marco for a retreat) is, by the standards of monks, quite elaborate. He had his own chapel!
This beautifully preserved building is home to a display that outlnes the procedure used by the monks to create illuminated manuscripts. Also on display are examples of the books they created. But most compelling is the cell of Savaronola. It contains a painting, a bust, and several of the vestments of the monk. Famous for creating the Bonfire of the Vanities before the people turned against him, Savaronola was burned in the Piazza della Signoria, his remains gathered and burned again, then gathered and burned a third time. The ashes were thrown into the Arno. Needless to say, there is no relic available should anyone wish to commemorate Savaronola!
We walked from the Piazza di San Marco down to the Piazza della Signoria to meet Bill and the group at the Loggia del Lanzi. This vaulted space is home to beautiful Roman sculptures and others that are very familiar: Perseus with the (bloody, severed) head of Medusa; the Rape of the Sabine Women; Hercules slaying the Centaur. Then we went a few blocks down the street to the Bargello, which is Florence's primary sculpture museum. Home to works by Michelangelo, Donatello, and many others, it is simply overwhelming. One could spend days in this beautiful building. Perfectly curated and loaded with information (in English - yay!), this museum is an absolute don't-miss. My favorite is the young Michelangelo's statute of the young David, who looks like a triumphant teenager, ready to brag to his friends!
At this point in the day, I needed a little pick-me-up; in fact, I needed someone to pick me up and carry me! So a small group of us went to a local department store which features a rooftop cafe with a most glorious view. I had a caffee latte, which delivered the necessary jolt, then we journeyed on.
We strolled to the mercato nuovo and shopped for a bit, then wandered back to the Piazza di Repubblica, where a young woman was singing and the carousel was full of children. Making our way to the Duomo, we passed a procession of Hare Krishnas, and followed a bride and groom to the front steps of the church.
Mike, Carolyn and I simply stood there and soaked it in. The sun on the Campanile and the dome of the church, the blue sky, the cool breeze, the throngs of tourists, the street vendors, the pigeons - how can we bear to leave this magical place?
We are so comfortable here now, after having been here over a week - and we have so few days remaining. We are heading out to dinner tonight to one of our favorite spots, then to bed! Tomorrow will be another beautiful day in Firenze.
Class was cut a bit short in order to give us time to visit places we haven't made it to quite yet. Mike and I feasted on salami, cheese, bread, and chips in our room, then set out for the San Marco monastery. It is fascinating. Each monk's cell has its own fresco. The cell reserved for Cosimo Medici (who certainly wasn't a monk, but often came to San Marco for a retreat) is, by the standards of monks, quite elaborate. He had his own chapel!
This beautifully preserved building is home to a display that outlnes the procedure used by the monks to create illuminated manuscripts. Also on display are examples of the books they created. But most compelling is the cell of Savaronola. It contains a painting, a bust, and several of the vestments of the monk. Famous for creating the Bonfire of the Vanities before the people turned against him, Savaronola was burned in the Piazza della Signoria, his remains gathered and burned again, then gathered and burned a third time. The ashes were thrown into the Arno. Needless to say, there is no relic available should anyone wish to commemorate Savaronola!
We walked from the Piazza di San Marco down to the Piazza della Signoria to meet Bill and the group at the Loggia del Lanzi. This vaulted space is home to beautiful Roman sculptures and others that are very familiar: Perseus with the (bloody, severed) head of Medusa; the Rape of the Sabine Women; Hercules slaying the Centaur. Then we went a few blocks down the street to the Bargello, which is Florence's primary sculpture museum. Home to works by Michelangelo, Donatello, and many others, it is simply overwhelming. One could spend days in this beautiful building. Perfectly curated and loaded with information (in English - yay!), this museum is an absolute don't-miss. My favorite is the young Michelangelo's statute of the young David, who looks like a triumphant teenager, ready to brag to his friends!
At this point in the day, I needed a little pick-me-up; in fact, I needed someone to pick me up and carry me! So a small group of us went to a local department store which features a rooftop cafe with a most glorious view. I had a caffee latte, which delivered the necessary jolt, then we journeyed on.
We strolled to the mercato nuovo and shopped for a bit, then wandered back to the Piazza di Repubblica, where a young woman was singing and the carousel was full of children. Making our way to the Duomo, we passed a procession of Hare Krishnas, and followed a bride and groom to the front steps of the church.
Mike, Carolyn and I simply stood there and soaked it in. The sun on the Campanile and the dome of the church, the blue sky, the cool breeze, the throngs of tourists, the street vendors, the pigeons - how can we bear to leave this magical place?
We are so comfortable here now, after having been here over a week - and we have so few days remaining. We are heading out to dinner tonight to one of our favorite spots, then to bed! Tomorrow will be another beautiful day in Firenze.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Siena and San Gimignano
Today we're back on the bus, headed for Siena. We've been looking forward to this trip, as Siena is a town frozen in time. Devastated by the Plague, the city fathers were unable to continue their ambitious long-range plans, which was pretty awful for Siena, but gives our group of pilgrims an opportunity to see more of the medieval art and architecture which Florence replaced with the beautiful creations of the Renaissance, for the most part.
We walk along a section of Siena's city wall. It looks as old as any structure we've encountered. It seems to undulate. Constructed of plain bricks, it may be impregnable - and certainly is on track to last another 900 years, at least.
We move into the city itself and walk to the Piazza Pubblica, which is sometimes called the most beautiful piazza in Italy - many feel it might be the most beautiful in the world. The piazza slopes in a gentle bowl shape down to the Palazzo Pubblica, which served Siena as its primary muncipal building. Around the edges of the rim of the bowl are ristorantes and trattorias and a gelato shop that bills itself as having the best ice cream in the world. One of our group was compelled to sample the gelato. She agreed that it was pretty good, but isn't sure that it holds the world record!
This piazza is home to a famous horse race, the Palio, in which an enormous crowd gathers in the bottom of the bowl and the horses race around the rim. We understand that it's an extremely dangerous race for the horses, and many of them are seriously injured running on the ancient bricks. At other times, the people of Siena treat the piazza much the way Floridians approach the beaches. They sit and sun and chat and simply pass the time.
Inside the Palazzo Pubblica we view the frescoes that depict Good Government and Bad Government. These were quite revolutionary in their day as they are based on the idea that man can have direct input into the quality of his life simply by operating in a peaceful, communal way. Even though the Sienese were devout Christians, they accepted the idea that they could control their lives in a way that communities had never attempted before. The frescoes are remarkable.
For lunch we grab a slice of pizza and a bottle of water and eat and drink as we continue exploring the town. We visit the Duomo, which is famous for its patterned floors, its striped columns and its frescoed ceilings. And on the way back to our bus, we stop in at the Basilica of St. Catherine. The patron saint of Italy, St. Catherine is credited with returning the papacy to Rome from Avignon. Her basilica contains her head, inside a box. Inside another box is one of her fingers. I intend to spend some time on line when I get home - this definitely calls for more research! Since she has been dead since the 14th century, the appearance of her face, complete with rosy skin and beautiful eyes, seems pretty incredible. The finger, on the other hand, is dried and wizened. It's definitely a finger, though, complete with fingernail.
Back on our bus, we head for the beautiful mountain town of San Gimignano. San Gimignano once boasted over 70 towers, built successively higher by competing wealthy families. Fourteen of these are still standing, and the view from the base of the mountain is amazing. As we climb the very, very steep streets we catch glimpses of some of the towers. In the main piazza we turn slowly and count - seven towers visible.
This is a wonderful shopping town. We find a pink shirt for our granddaughter; a lovely framed piece of local art for ourselves, one which depicts the towers of San Gimignano; and finally buy a bottle of the lovely fruity white wine for which the region is famous. It's made with the vernaccia grape. We are finally beginning a little shopping and are thoroughly enjoying this wonderful mountain day.
As we ride back to Florence, admiring the skill of our intrepid driver, Marco, the conversation ebbs and flows around us. We hear discussions about what we've seen, what kinds of OLLI classes we'd like to see as a result of our experiences here, what museums we still must visit before we leave next week, what gifts we've bought for whom. Packages of chocolate biscotti, bags of sweet licorice, small packs of cookies, candied peanuts make their way up and down the aisle. We share what we have bought. We are pilgrims, and friends.
Back in Firenze, we ask Pierpaulo, the concierge, to make a reservation at a restaurant that he loves. Eight of us venture out; we have decided that we will order bistecca this evening. The giant T-bone steaks were recommended highly by our Italian language teacher, Fabrizio. Mike and I split a spinach pie for antipasto, then split the single steak. The bone is enormous - think Fred Flintstone and dinosaur steak. The spinach is divine, very similar to a spinach souffle. The steak has a flavor we've never tasted and is delicious. Along with a couple of pitchers of house Chianti and some fizzy water, we have a feast. Oh, and the Tuscan bread, which is unsalted and has become an acquired taste.
After a couple of hours talking and laughing with these lovely friends, we stroll back to the hotel. We resist the temptation to stop for gelato, but come back and uncork the wine we bought today. And here we sit, in the friendly bar at our hotel, chatting and sipping. I work on the blog and Mike checks the email for messages from the offspring; others plan their weekend trip to Rome, and our friendly hotelier watches over us all. Outside the open window (did I mention there are NO bugs?) we can hear the traffic passing. The breeze is lovely. Tomorrow we visit the Bargello, probably return to the Ufizzi, and maybe visit the church of San Marco to view the cell of Savonarola. We'll have another wonderful breakfast, a quick lunch sandwich, and another fabulous dinner. We wish we had another week.
We walk along a section of Siena's city wall. It looks as old as any structure we've encountered. It seems to undulate. Constructed of plain bricks, it may be impregnable - and certainly is on track to last another 900 years, at least.
We move into the city itself and walk to the Piazza Pubblica, which is sometimes called the most beautiful piazza in Italy - many feel it might be the most beautiful in the world. The piazza slopes in a gentle bowl shape down to the Palazzo Pubblica, which served Siena as its primary muncipal building. Around the edges of the rim of the bowl are ristorantes and trattorias and a gelato shop that bills itself as having the best ice cream in the world. One of our group was compelled to sample the gelato. She agreed that it was pretty good, but isn't sure that it holds the world record!
This piazza is home to a famous horse race, the Palio, in which an enormous crowd gathers in the bottom of the bowl and the horses race around the rim. We understand that it's an extremely dangerous race for the horses, and many of them are seriously injured running on the ancient bricks. At other times, the people of Siena treat the piazza much the way Floridians approach the beaches. They sit and sun and chat and simply pass the time.
Inside the Palazzo Pubblica we view the frescoes that depict Good Government and Bad Government. These were quite revolutionary in their day as they are based on the idea that man can have direct input into the quality of his life simply by operating in a peaceful, communal way. Even though the Sienese were devout Christians, they accepted the idea that they could control their lives in a way that communities had never attempted before. The frescoes are remarkable.
For lunch we grab a slice of pizza and a bottle of water and eat and drink as we continue exploring the town. We visit the Duomo, which is famous for its patterned floors, its striped columns and its frescoed ceilings. And on the way back to our bus, we stop in at the Basilica of St. Catherine. The patron saint of Italy, St. Catherine is credited with returning the papacy to Rome from Avignon. Her basilica contains her head, inside a box. Inside another box is one of her fingers. I intend to spend some time on line when I get home - this definitely calls for more research! Since she has been dead since the 14th century, the appearance of her face, complete with rosy skin and beautiful eyes, seems pretty incredible. The finger, on the other hand, is dried and wizened. It's definitely a finger, though, complete with fingernail.
Back on our bus, we head for the beautiful mountain town of San Gimignano. San Gimignano once boasted over 70 towers, built successively higher by competing wealthy families. Fourteen of these are still standing, and the view from the base of the mountain is amazing. As we climb the very, very steep streets we catch glimpses of some of the towers. In the main piazza we turn slowly and count - seven towers visible.
This is a wonderful shopping town. We find a pink shirt for our granddaughter; a lovely framed piece of local art for ourselves, one which depicts the towers of San Gimignano; and finally buy a bottle of the lovely fruity white wine for which the region is famous. It's made with the vernaccia grape. We are finally beginning a little shopping and are thoroughly enjoying this wonderful mountain day.
As we ride back to Florence, admiring the skill of our intrepid driver, Marco, the conversation ebbs and flows around us. We hear discussions about what we've seen, what kinds of OLLI classes we'd like to see as a result of our experiences here, what museums we still must visit before we leave next week, what gifts we've bought for whom. Packages of chocolate biscotti, bags of sweet licorice, small packs of cookies, candied peanuts make their way up and down the aisle. We share what we have bought. We are pilgrims, and friends.
Back in Firenze, we ask Pierpaulo, the concierge, to make a reservation at a restaurant that he loves. Eight of us venture out; we have decided that we will order bistecca this evening. The giant T-bone steaks were recommended highly by our Italian language teacher, Fabrizio. Mike and I split a spinach pie for antipasto, then split the single steak. The bone is enormous - think Fred Flintstone and dinosaur steak. The spinach is divine, very similar to a spinach souffle. The steak has a flavor we've never tasted and is delicious. Along with a couple of pitchers of house Chianti and some fizzy water, we have a feast. Oh, and the Tuscan bread, which is unsalted and has become an acquired taste.
After a couple of hours talking and laughing with these lovely friends, we stroll back to the hotel. We resist the temptation to stop for gelato, but come back and uncork the wine we bought today. And here we sit, in the friendly bar at our hotel, chatting and sipping. I work on the blog and Mike checks the email for messages from the offspring; others plan their weekend trip to Rome, and our friendly hotelier watches over us all. Outside the open window (did I mention there are NO bugs?) we can hear the traffic passing. The breeze is lovely. Tomorrow we visit the Bargello, probably return to the Ufizzi, and maybe visit the church of San Marco to view the cell of Savonarola. We'll have another wonderful breakfast, a quick lunch sandwich, and another fabulous dinner. We wish we had another week.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Breathtaking mountain towns
The city of Assisi hangs on the side of a mountain and fairly gleams in the sunlight. It's easy to imagine the Franciscans of the 13th century moving silently through the colonnaded walkways and singing in the chapels. Our group strolled the cobbled streets, wonderfully uncrowded, delighting in the cool mountain breeze. The basilica of San Francesco is another beautiful sacred space, marred by the evidence of the damage done by the earthquake of 1997. Whole chunks of fresco were dislodged (killing several pilgrims), and all present hurried to gather every single shard of stone that fell to the floor.Even in the midst of a deadly earthquake, all souls in that space understood that the art had to be preserved. (I understand that one enterprising visitor recorded this on his video camera, and it can be found on YouTube.) Since the church is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, there have been U.N. funds available to assist in restoration, and it's well under way.
Particularly compelling to me was a very modern crucifix, depicting St. Francis prostrate at the foot of the cross. One of the arms of the crucified Christ is hanging freely from the cross, and his extended hand points to the monk. It could easily have been done by Picasso, but wasn't, of course. Of all the crucifixes we have seen, I found this to be the most interesting.
As we wandered back to our bus, we stopped for gelato. Mike had his usual limone, and I tried the stracciatella, which turned out to be vanilla with chocolate chips - delicious!
Did I mention that this was not my first gelato?
We went down the mountain and journeyed back north to Cortona. As I have been reading "Under the Tuscan Sun," this town was of particular interest to me. Our afternoon excursions have been mostly devoted to lunch, relaxation and conversation. How we wished we had more time in this truly beautiful village! Cortona has only one truly level street - all others are either straight up or straight down. This can be very challenging, especially for the senior citizens in our pilgrim group (actually that's all of us). But what a reward! I believe I took the most photos in Cortona. Every vista seemed to be a photo op.
At lunch we encountered our first locals who truly did not speak English. Thank you, Fabrizio, for your excellent tutelage in Italian (OLLI Maymester). Between pointing, gesturing, and some southern-accented Italian, we were able to communicate our order, ask for the check, and let our hosts know that our meal was molto bene.
Now I am home at the Hotel Casci, sitting with the group in the hotel bar, having an adult beverage and writing this account. The bar is half of the space that Rossini occupied in the 19th century, and definitely has good vibes. And this is where I write these accounts.
At this point in our trip, we are wishing we had an additional week. We feel comfortable, acclimated, and no longer jet-lagged. Bill assures us that no amount of time would be sufficient. Our only recourse is to return to Florence, to arrange for more time in Lucca, Assisi and Cortona. (Don't really feel a need to return to Pisa.) What a wonderful trip!
Particularly compelling to me was a very modern crucifix, depicting St. Francis prostrate at the foot of the cross. One of the arms of the crucified Christ is hanging freely from the cross, and his extended hand points to the monk. It could easily have been done by Picasso, but wasn't, of course. Of all the crucifixes we have seen, I found this to be the most interesting.
As we wandered back to our bus, we stopped for gelato. Mike had his usual limone, and I tried the stracciatella, which turned out to be vanilla with chocolate chips - delicious!
Did I mention that this was not my first gelato?
We went down the mountain and journeyed back north to Cortona. As I have been reading "Under the Tuscan Sun," this town was of particular interest to me. Our afternoon excursions have been mostly devoted to lunch, relaxation and conversation. How we wished we had more time in this truly beautiful village! Cortona has only one truly level street - all others are either straight up or straight down. This can be very challenging, especially for the senior citizens in our pilgrim group (actually that's all of us). But what a reward! I believe I took the most photos in Cortona. Every vista seemed to be a photo op.
At lunch we encountered our first locals who truly did not speak English. Thank you, Fabrizio, for your excellent tutelage in Italian (OLLI Maymester). Between pointing, gesturing, and some southern-accented Italian, we were able to communicate our order, ask for the check, and let our hosts know that our meal was molto bene.
Now I am home at the Hotel Casci, sitting with the group in the hotel bar, having an adult beverage and writing this account. The bar is half of the space that Rossini occupied in the 19th century, and definitely has good vibes. And this is where I write these accounts.
At this point in our trip, we are wishing we had an additional week. We feel comfortable, acclimated, and no longer jet-lagged. Bill assures us that no amount of time would be sufficient. Our only recourse is to return to Florence, to arrange for more time in Lucca, Assisi and Cortona. (Don't really feel a need to return to Pisa.) What a wonderful trip!
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Churches, churches, churches
Today we're back in Florence, back in class at 10:30. We are to hear all about painting, and I suspect that Bill will surprise us with information that we've not heard before. Simply to call it "painting" - that seems such a poor word for what we've been seeing in churches and museums for the past week.
But first - the day begins with another of Signora Carla's fabulous breakfast spreads. I finally sampled the cake, a different variety of which has graced the buffet every morning. Signora tells me it is ricotta, pear and chocolate, and I can taste the delicious thin bottom crust with every bite. A hard-boiled egg, a dish of fruit, a small dish of cereal, and two cups of wonderful caffee latte must hold me for most of the day. This will be an activity-filled experience.
Before class, I venture out alone to purchase tickets for the Baptistry. I discover the ticket office and a working change machine. Coins are very hard to come by in shops and restaurants, and I am delighted to receive ten one-euro coins for my paper money. Now I can use the public bathrooms! I figure if I had another two weeks here, I would function like a native.
As soon as class is over at noon, Mike and I strike out for the Baptistry. We are scheduled to meet Bill and the rest of the group at Santa Maria Novella at 1:30, so we need to get down the street quickly and see the interior. Gentle readers who have visited Florence will remember that the Baptistry is home to the Ghiberti doors, which are no longer in place. They were heavily damaged in one of Florence's awful floods, and they are now housed in the Duomo museum, which is currently closed for restoration and repairs. We have been told that the reproductions that grace the front of the building are almost indistinguishable from the real things. We have no way of knowing if this is true, but we can say that the restoration is absolutely breathtaking.
We meet Bill and most of the group at 1:30 Santa Maria Novella, which was once a Dominican monastery. What a beautiful building! And the artwork inside is also quite beautiful. After spending about an hour in the church, we walk across the city to Santa Croce, which has been characterized as Italy's Westminster Abbey. It contains the tombs of Dante, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Da Vinci, and memorials to many other Italian luminaries. Santa Croce is also home to the leather school, and we are able to watch apprentices crafting beautiful leather goods. They are taking orders for handbags made to order, and gorgeous leather jackets and coats - for a mere 700 euro!
By now it is 5:00 p.m. and Mike and I decide to head for the hotel. We drop off our coats and bags and stroll down the street to explore a toy store and a paper store. The weather is delightful - sunny and cool. What a lovely evening for a walk!
Tomorrow we journey to Assisi and Cortona. Since Cortona is the summer home of Frances Mayes, author of "Under the Tuscan Sun," perhaps we will take another stroll down the country mile to Bramasole and see if we can spot her. We'll see!
But first - the day begins with another of Signora Carla's fabulous breakfast spreads. I finally sampled the cake, a different variety of which has graced the buffet every morning. Signora tells me it is ricotta, pear and chocolate, and I can taste the delicious thin bottom crust with every bite. A hard-boiled egg, a dish of fruit, a small dish of cereal, and two cups of wonderful caffee latte must hold me for most of the day. This will be an activity-filled experience.
Before class, I venture out alone to purchase tickets for the Baptistry. I discover the ticket office and a working change machine. Coins are very hard to come by in shops and restaurants, and I am delighted to receive ten one-euro coins for my paper money. Now I can use the public bathrooms! I figure if I had another two weeks here, I would function like a native.
As soon as class is over at noon, Mike and I strike out for the Baptistry. We are scheduled to meet Bill and the rest of the group at Santa Maria Novella at 1:30, so we need to get down the street quickly and see the interior. Gentle readers who have visited Florence will remember that the Baptistry is home to the Ghiberti doors, which are no longer in place. They were heavily damaged in one of Florence's awful floods, and they are now housed in the Duomo museum, which is currently closed for restoration and repairs. We have been told that the reproductions that grace the front of the building are almost indistinguishable from the real things. We have no way of knowing if this is true, but we can say that the restoration is absolutely breathtaking.
We meet Bill and most of the group at 1:30 Santa Maria Novella, which was once a Dominican monastery. What a beautiful building! And the artwork inside is also quite beautiful. After spending about an hour in the church, we walk across the city to Santa Croce, which has been characterized as Italy's Westminster Abbey. It contains the tombs of Dante, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Da Vinci, and memorials to many other Italian luminaries. Santa Croce is also home to the leather school, and we are able to watch apprentices crafting beautiful leather goods. They are taking orders for handbags made to order, and gorgeous leather jackets and coats - for a mere 700 euro!
By now it is 5:00 p.m. and Mike and I decide to head for the hotel. We drop off our coats and bags and stroll down the street to explore a toy store and a paper store. The weather is delightful - sunny and cool. What a lovely evening for a walk!
Tomorrow we journey to Assisi and Cortona. Since Cortona is the summer home of Frances Mayes, author of "Under the Tuscan Sun," perhaps we will take another stroll down the country mile to Bramasole and see if we can spot her. We'll see!
Monday, June 16, 2014
Into the countryside
Last evening we searched out a restaurant recommended by Rick Steves, and old Rick really hit this one out of the park. Il Latini specializes in a prix fixe dinner. The Latin connection seems to be a bit Argentinian, as the dining room featured large hanging hunks of beef, and one of the staff spent the entire time we were there busily slicing prosciutto, salami, and other cured meats. The prix fixe included an enormous amount of food: antipasto, first course, second course, side dish, dessert, water, wine, and after-dinner drink. There is just no way this group of esteemed American senior citizens could possibly eat that much! To the disappointment of the staff, we insisted on seeing a menu. And we totally confounded our waiter by ordering only salad and pasta and drinking only one portion of the wine. (The bottle was HUGE, and there were two for the table.} When he asked if we were ready for a main course, we responded, "We're Americans; that WAS the main course." And we smiled.
The food we did order was absolutely wonderful, though, continuing an unbroken succession of wonderful meals.And as always, the company was exceptional!
Today we boarded a comfortable bus for a trip into the Tuscan countryside to visit Pisa and Lucca. Even though we had trained a bit for a climb of the Leaning Tower, we decided to forego it. Those who made the climb are glad they did, and we are glad we did not. We felt we were able to see more of the magnificent cathedral and its Baptistry than we would have had we climbed. So all was well!
The Tuscan towns that are scattered in the general area of Florence have quite a different feel from the city itself. The pace is much slower, and there are far fewer tourists. In Lucca the shops were actually closed for riposa, something that pretty much doesn't happen in Florence, which is much more attuned to the preferences of tourists. These places are just plain leisurely. However, it's lovely.
Lucca is one of the few towns in the world that has a completely intact city wall, and it dates to Roman times. Wonder of wonders, the city has turned the top of the wall into a beautiful biking/running/walking trail. What a treat! After having a wonderful lunch (yes, eating again), we took a walk through the town and walked the wall.
For the past two days, the weather has been cool, only a few drops of rain. We drove through the foothills of the Apennines, past enormous rock and marble quarries, each mountaintop crowned with a cloud and frequently holding a massive villa or a ruined castle. There were olive trees, grapevines, and even corn, which Italians do not eat but grow for cattle feed. (Again, those crazy Americans, who love their corn on the cob!) Aside from the Italian road signs, everything felt almost familiar. This is a comfortable country.
So, tomorrow, back to the classroom. We'll hear from Bill about painting, then visit more museums, and I will finally break down and do some shopping. I'm just beginning to get the itch . . . .
The food we did order was absolutely wonderful, though, continuing an unbroken succession of wonderful meals.And as always, the company was exceptional!
Today we boarded a comfortable bus for a trip into the Tuscan countryside to visit Pisa and Lucca. Even though we had trained a bit for a climb of the Leaning Tower, we decided to forego it. Those who made the climb are glad they did, and we are glad we did not. We felt we were able to see more of the magnificent cathedral and its Baptistry than we would have had we climbed. So all was well!
The Tuscan towns that are scattered in the general area of Florence have quite a different feel from the city itself. The pace is much slower, and there are far fewer tourists. In Lucca the shops were actually closed for riposa, something that pretty much doesn't happen in Florence, which is much more attuned to the preferences of tourists. These places are just plain leisurely. However, it's lovely.
Lucca is one of the few towns in the world that has a completely intact city wall, and it dates to Roman times. Wonder of wonders, the city has turned the top of the wall into a beautiful biking/running/walking trail. What a treat! After having a wonderful lunch (yes, eating again), we took a walk through the town and walked the wall.
For the past two days, the weather has been cool, only a few drops of rain. We drove through the foothills of the Apennines, past enormous rock and marble quarries, each mountaintop crowned with a cloud and frequently holding a massive villa or a ruined castle. There were olive trees, grapevines, and even corn, which Italians do not eat but grow for cattle feed. (Again, those crazy Americans, who love their corn on the cob!) Aside from the Italian road signs, everything felt almost familiar. This is a comfortable country.
So, tomorrow, back to the classroom. We'll hear from Bill about painting, then visit more museums, and I will finally break down and do some shopping. I'm just beginning to get the itch . . . .
Sunday, June 15, 2014
We are under the spell of Firenze
It's Sunday today, Father's Day. First, Happy Father's Day to my sweet daddy and to my wonderful son, both great dads.
Next, Florence is a happy place today - Italy won their World Cup match last night. Our waiter (who has now become our favorite) assured us that no one would be out today had they lost. (Reminded us of Tallahasseans on some very sad football Sundays.)
We had a quiet dinner last evening with another couple. Everyone in our group seemed to be in sore need of a regrouping day, and today was it. We slept late, made it to breakfast before it closed, then took our time with showers and dressing. I decided that laundry can wait for a couple of days, then sat down to figure out what we've seen, what we want to see, and which days will be for what.
In my reading of "Under the Tuscan Sun," I've been struck by Mayes' frequent musings on how her inborn Southern sense of place seems so appropriate here in Tuscany. The Fiorentinos are so sweet and calm, so courteous and helpful. There is a sense of security and peace in the city, even with the throngs of tourists. As we left our restaurant today, George (our guy) hugged all four of us, even the men. And interestingly, after having been in something of a whirlwind for the past few days, getting a concentrated introduction to churches, museums, architecture, piazzas, indoor and outdoor sculpture, on and on and on, I believe we are familiar with the area and ready to strike out on our own.
SO - I sat on the bed, pulled out the guidebooks and maps and the wonderful lists that Bill has made for us (almost like scavenger hunts, "Make sure you taste this gelato, peek into that paper shop, haggle in this market"), and I plotted a broad course. As soon as we were ready, we ventured forth.
The first gift of the day was the weather. It was lovely and cool, with a breeze. No need for sunglasses; it was overcast. What a nice break from the heat!
Only a few doors down from our hotel is the Medici Palace. Quite plain from the outside, the palace is a marvel of design and color inside. The palace is owned by the City of Florence and has many offices and meeting rooms on the upper floors. In some instances the rooms on the lower floors have been preserved as they were designed in the 16th century. The frescoed ceilings and ornate walls are breathtaking. There is even one bedroom that was restored in the 19th century, when Florence was the capital of Italy, and the furnishings are distinctly Victorian! In this ancient city, that is downright brand new.
Other rooms are used as modern art exhibition space. One can step from an Italian Renaissance salon into a spare white space with surrealist paintings. Beautifully curated and lighted, these galleries are refreshing, but startling, and definitely unexpected.
In the center of the palace is a beautiful garden space, filled with sculpture. A few drops of rain fell as we wandered and snapped pictures. This is truly a hidden treasure just a few steps from the busy modern street.
After a lovely lunch in our favorite restaurant and a little visit with George the Waiter, we headed for the Accademia. This is where the Michelangelo "David" is housed. It's a small museum, but the space that the famous sculpture occupies is soaring and dramatic. The statue itself is more than a visit - it is a not-to-be-missed experience. We walked around, we read the commentary, we took photos, and we still weren't sure how to take it all in.
The Accademia is still a working institute of art instruction, and there is evidence everywhere of its commitment to education. One whole room is filled with all kinds of pieces and parts and miscellaneous sculptures, marked with black dots called pimples, which designate the areas that are used as teaching tools.
One floor up, there is a wealth of very, very old church art. Altar pieces, polyptychs, tapestries - all kinds of iconography are assembled here. Bill has helped us see symbols that we wouldn't have noticed before. Our appreciation of art has improved by leaps and bounds!
What a day! And how many layers have been added to our sense of this place. Every experience shapes our perceptions of Florence and further convinces us that we'll never visit another city quite like this one.
Next, Florence is a happy place today - Italy won their World Cup match last night. Our waiter (who has now become our favorite) assured us that no one would be out today had they lost. (Reminded us of Tallahasseans on some very sad football Sundays.)
We had a quiet dinner last evening with another couple. Everyone in our group seemed to be in sore need of a regrouping day, and today was it. We slept late, made it to breakfast before it closed, then took our time with showers and dressing. I decided that laundry can wait for a couple of days, then sat down to figure out what we've seen, what we want to see, and which days will be for what.
In my reading of "Under the Tuscan Sun," I've been struck by Mayes' frequent musings on how her inborn Southern sense of place seems so appropriate here in Tuscany. The Fiorentinos are so sweet and calm, so courteous and helpful. There is a sense of security and peace in the city, even with the throngs of tourists. As we left our restaurant today, George (our guy) hugged all four of us, even the men. And interestingly, after having been in something of a whirlwind for the past few days, getting a concentrated introduction to churches, museums, architecture, piazzas, indoor and outdoor sculpture, on and on and on, I believe we are familiar with the area and ready to strike out on our own.
SO - I sat on the bed, pulled out the guidebooks and maps and the wonderful lists that Bill has made for us (almost like scavenger hunts, "Make sure you taste this gelato, peek into that paper shop, haggle in this market"), and I plotted a broad course. As soon as we were ready, we ventured forth.
The first gift of the day was the weather. It was lovely and cool, with a breeze. No need for sunglasses; it was overcast. What a nice break from the heat!
Only a few doors down from our hotel is the Medici Palace. Quite plain from the outside, the palace is a marvel of design and color inside. The palace is owned by the City of Florence and has many offices and meeting rooms on the upper floors. In some instances the rooms on the lower floors have been preserved as they were designed in the 16th century. The frescoed ceilings and ornate walls are breathtaking. There is even one bedroom that was restored in the 19th century, when Florence was the capital of Italy, and the furnishings are distinctly Victorian! In this ancient city, that is downright brand new.
Other rooms are used as modern art exhibition space. One can step from an Italian Renaissance salon into a spare white space with surrealist paintings. Beautifully curated and lighted, these galleries are refreshing, but startling, and definitely unexpected.
In the center of the palace is a beautiful garden space, filled with sculpture. A few drops of rain fell as we wandered and snapped pictures. This is truly a hidden treasure just a few steps from the busy modern street.
After a lovely lunch in our favorite restaurant and a little visit with George the Waiter, we headed for the Accademia. This is where the Michelangelo "David" is housed. It's a small museum, but the space that the famous sculpture occupies is soaring and dramatic. The statue itself is more than a visit - it is a not-to-be-missed experience. We walked around, we read the commentary, we took photos, and we still weren't sure how to take it all in.
The Accademia is still a working institute of art instruction, and there is evidence everywhere of its commitment to education. One whole room is filled with all kinds of pieces and parts and miscellaneous sculptures, marked with black dots called pimples, which designate the areas that are used as teaching tools.
One floor up, there is a wealth of very, very old church art. Altar pieces, polyptychs, tapestries - all kinds of iconography are assembled here. Bill has helped us see symbols that we wouldn't have noticed before. Our appreciation of art has improved by leaps and bounds!
What a day! And how many layers have been added to our sense of this place. Every experience shapes our perceptions of Florence and further convinces us that we'll never visit another city quite like this one.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
A sunny day and some unique experiences
Last evening nine of us walked through rain-washed streets for a couple of blocks to have dinner at Ristorante Accademia, highly recommended by others in our group. We arrived a few minutes before 7:00, which, as it turned out, was their opening time. They seated us anyway, and we knew we were going to like this place!
After a delicious meal of melanzane di timballo, eggplant cooked in a way I'll never be able to duplicate, and of course several carafes of wine, we topped off the meal with shots of limoncello that our waiter brought - on the house. We had a blast! In fact, we had such a blast that we attracted the attention of other diners who turned out to be staying at our hotel, and they greeted some of the group at breakfast this morning with a big cheer.
After breakfast, we attempted the hop-on/hop-off bus again. Remembering our stormy experience on Thursday, we tied our rain jackets around our waists, took a deep breath, and once again found seats on the top of the bus. What a glorious day! Using the earbuds supplied by the bus company, we listened to a wonderful narration of everything we were passing and enjoyed the beautiful Baroque music playing in the intervals between the snippets of information. We wound through the city and climbed the hill to Fiesole. The flat meadow in which Michelangelo created many of his beautiful works was perfect - the view of the city below, with the Duomo, the Campanile, the Arno, the Ponte Vecchio. What artist could have picked a better spot?
After returning to the city, we made our way to the Chapel of the Medici. We were most curious about the tombs of Florence's founding family, and also were curious about the many religious relics displayed there. What a magnificent chapel! The domed ceiling is a marvel of painting. The tombs are quite grand. The room where the most important tombs are located was never quite finished, and the niches intended to be occupied by statutes of the dead remain empty. Bill pointed out that all of the ornamentation is marble work. How on earth an artist/craftsman could depict shafts of wheat using only marble, right down to the tiniest spicule, is hard to understand. This is art that takes a lifetime to create, and sometimes the lifetime of more than one artist. It's difficult to imagine anyone having the patience and dedication to do that in modern times.
After returning to our hotel for a brief rest, we ventured out again, headed for the Duomo. Finally, time to go inside! The long line moved quickly and we were inside the vast church. Bill had noted that perhaps the exterior of the church is more impressive than the interior, but we were quite taken with it. It is a soaring, cool space, with plain arches and only a few (beautiful) stained glass windows. There are sculptures and paintings, both sacred and secular, lining the walls. We heard a voice: "Silenzio. Shhhhhh. Silenzio, per favore. Silence. Shhhhh. Silence, please." Oops. We had indeed been talking, although very quietly. In about ten minutes, we heard it again. We realized that it is a recording, and began to listen to the crowd. Even though everyone seemed to be reverent and quiet, there were many people there, and a thousand whispers make quite a racket. Just as the sound began to be noticeable, the recording would play again and everyone would fall silent. Then the voices gradually rose until the next playing of the recording. I found this to be a fascinating, and pretty courteous, way to control noise. I'm thinking it might work well in many situations!
After the Duomo, we were off to Santa Croce. As we approached the piazza, we found every street blocked. This is the beginning of the summer games, calcio storico, which are football/rugby/boxing/ kicking/gouging matches played with teams from different neighborhoods. We had been warned that the actual matches are quite bloody, with players suffering bloody noses, breaking limbs, and sometimes even losing eyes! We really don't want to see a match (assuming we could get a ticket, which is almost impossible), but we are interested in the processions that precede them. The supporters from different neighborhoods come out in groups and march through the streets, apparently becoming more and more rowdy as they near the makeshift stadium set up in the Piazza di Santa Croce. So instead of visiting the museum, we circled around, stopping for gelato and to peer into the mercato nuovo, before we encountered a portion of the procession. What fun!
Back to our hotel, hot, tired and very thirsty - but dry! We heard some rumbles of thunder, but no rain. Hooray!
After a delicious meal of melanzane di timballo, eggplant cooked in a way I'll never be able to duplicate, and of course several carafes of wine, we topped off the meal with shots of limoncello that our waiter brought - on the house. We had a blast! In fact, we had such a blast that we attracted the attention of other diners who turned out to be staying at our hotel, and they greeted some of the group at breakfast this morning with a big cheer.
After breakfast, we attempted the hop-on/hop-off bus again. Remembering our stormy experience on Thursday, we tied our rain jackets around our waists, took a deep breath, and once again found seats on the top of the bus. What a glorious day! Using the earbuds supplied by the bus company, we listened to a wonderful narration of everything we were passing and enjoyed the beautiful Baroque music playing in the intervals between the snippets of information. We wound through the city and climbed the hill to Fiesole. The flat meadow in which Michelangelo created many of his beautiful works was perfect - the view of the city below, with the Duomo, the Campanile, the Arno, the Ponte Vecchio. What artist could have picked a better spot?
After returning to the city, we made our way to the Chapel of the Medici. We were most curious about the tombs of Florence's founding family, and also were curious about the many religious relics displayed there. What a magnificent chapel! The domed ceiling is a marvel of painting. The tombs are quite grand. The room where the most important tombs are located was never quite finished, and the niches intended to be occupied by statutes of the dead remain empty. Bill pointed out that all of the ornamentation is marble work. How on earth an artist/craftsman could depict shafts of wheat using only marble, right down to the tiniest spicule, is hard to understand. This is art that takes a lifetime to create, and sometimes the lifetime of more than one artist. It's difficult to imagine anyone having the patience and dedication to do that in modern times.
After returning to our hotel for a brief rest, we ventured out again, headed for the Duomo. Finally, time to go inside! The long line moved quickly and we were inside the vast church. Bill had noted that perhaps the exterior of the church is more impressive than the interior, but we were quite taken with it. It is a soaring, cool space, with plain arches and only a few (beautiful) stained glass windows. There are sculptures and paintings, both sacred and secular, lining the walls. We heard a voice: "Silenzio. Shhhhhh. Silenzio, per favore. Silence. Shhhhh. Silence, please." Oops. We had indeed been talking, although very quietly. In about ten minutes, we heard it again. We realized that it is a recording, and began to listen to the crowd. Even though everyone seemed to be reverent and quiet, there were many people there, and a thousand whispers make quite a racket. Just as the sound began to be noticeable, the recording would play again and everyone would fall silent. Then the voices gradually rose until the next playing of the recording. I found this to be a fascinating, and pretty courteous, way to control noise. I'm thinking it might work well in many situations!
After the Duomo, we were off to Santa Croce. As we approached the piazza, we found every street blocked. This is the beginning of the summer games, calcio storico, which are football/rugby/boxing/ kicking/gouging matches played with teams from different neighborhoods. We had been warned that the actual matches are quite bloody, with players suffering bloody noses, breaking limbs, and sometimes even losing eyes! We really don't want to see a match (assuming we could get a ticket, which is almost impossible), but we are interested in the processions that precede them. The supporters from different neighborhoods come out in groups and march through the streets, apparently becoming more and more rowdy as they near the makeshift stadium set up in the Piazza di Santa Croce. So instead of visiting the museum, we circled around, stopping for gelato and to peer into the mercato nuovo, before we encountered a portion of the procession. What fun!
Back to our hotel, hot, tired and very thirsty - but dry! We heard some rumbles of thunder, but no rain. Hooray!
Friday, June 13, 2014
Evening of our first full day, and another day - and more rain!
We dined last evening with six of our fellow pilgrims, al fresco, in a lovely little restaurant that we had spotted earlier in the day. We ordered carafes of the house wine (a Chianti, I believe) which was definitely drinkable. Mike and I shared a simple bruschetta with tomatoes, then split a pizza with prosciutto, artichokes and black olives. Our companions had lasagna, spaghetti with clams, eggplant parmesan.There was a little breeze, the rain was gone, the food was divine, the company was excellent. Italian restaurants are friendly places, never any pressure to hurry and leave. Our waiter was Lupo, the wolf. Even though tips are included in the bill everywhere, we couldn't resist pitching in an extra euro for him.
Later, after we had returned to the hotel and had had a few minutes of toes-up, Mike and I ventured out into the evening. We wanted very much to see the Duomo and the Campanile as they are at night, so beautifully lit, continuing to draw the eyes to the heavens. We were mystified at the small size of the crowd. The evening was cool and clear, with a light breeze. Who would not walk at that time? We encountered a smallish group surrounding a street magician, vendors in the streets with lighted toys that spun into the sky, and even a carousel. Definitely a different city after night falls!
This morning we had another fascinating lecture from Bill. Our topic was architecture and symbols. There is so much to learn! Bill has boundless knowledge and so far has been able to answer every question, no matter how strange. In fact, he can usually expound on any new topic we introduce. We're certain he has so much stuffed into his brain that we'll never stump him!
For lunch we had another Tuscan picnic in our room, polishing off the salami, cheese and bread from yesterday. Mike has discovered a delicious canned iced tea with lemon that has just a hint of sugar and is happy. I stick with water. The humidity is low here, even though the heat is high, so I'm always thirsty. And of course that might have something to do with the food that I can't seem to resist.
This afternoon the group walked to the Uffizi, stopping frequently along the way for Bill to point out curiosities and treasures. We crossed the Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge) which is lined with the most amazing jewelry shops. Never have I seen such an array of beautiful jewelry, mostly in gold. A veritable feast for the eyes, and window shopping is always free!
What follows is in the present tense, as it's very fresh in my mind:
A small group of us heads back to actually go into the Uffizi. Finally we get inside a building! It is enormous and confusing. Bill has warned us that to avoid museum fatigue we should see just a few works of art. We choose the Botticelli and da Vinci rooms. Surely the largest collection of Madonnas anywhere - and from our lessons with Bill, we know how to look at the symbols that surround the Mother and Child. What an experience! We look forward to returning more than once in the next days; our Uffizi card entitles us to a free ticket as many times as we wish to visit.
Next we make our way to the terrace, carefully avoiding museum fatigue and looking forward to the view that Bill has recommended so highly. It is indeed spectacular, although the gathering dark clouds and approaching rain are a little daunting. Today we have been smarter: our rain jackets are knotted around our waists. By the time we finally find our way out of the enormous building, another huge thunderstorm has developed. We zip up our jackets, pull up our hoods, and venture out. Mike grumbles behind me, "We need to tell all of these guys selling umbrellas and slickers to get the **** out of the way!" And actually, he has a point.
Back at the hotel, we are wet from the thighs down, and have yet another two pairs of shoes totally soaked. We are rapidly running out of dry footwear, but are very grateful for the protection we did get from our rain jackets. And it was an adventure!
Later, after we had returned to the hotel and had had a few minutes of toes-up, Mike and I ventured out into the evening. We wanted very much to see the Duomo and the Campanile as they are at night, so beautifully lit, continuing to draw the eyes to the heavens. We were mystified at the small size of the crowd. The evening was cool and clear, with a light breeze. Who would not walk at that time? We encountered a smallish group surrounding a street magician, vendors in the streets with lighted toys that spun into the sky, and even a carousel. Definitely a different city after night falls!
This morning we had another fascinating lecture from Bill. Our topic was architecture and symbols. There is so much to learn! Bill has boundless knowledge and so far has been able to answer every question, no matter how strange. In fact, he can usually expound on any new topic we introduce. We're certain he has so much stuffed into his brain that we'll never stump him!
For lunch we had another Tuscan picnic in our room, polishing off the salami, cheese and bread from yesterday. Mike has discovered a delicious canned iced tea with lemon that has just a hint of sugar and is happy. I stick with water. The humidity is low here, even though the heat is high, so I'm always thirsty. And of course that might have something to do with the food that I can't seem to resist.
This afternoon the group walked to the Uffizi, stopping frequently along the way for Bill to point out curiosities and treasures. We crossed the Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge) which is lined with the most amazing jewelry shops. Never have I seen such an array of beautiful jewelry, mostly in gold. A veritable feast for the eyes, and window shopping is always free!
What follows is in the present tense, as it's very fresh in my mind:
A small group of us heads back to actually go into the Uffizi. Finally we get inside a building! It is enormous and confusing. Bill has warned us that to avoid museum fatigue we should see just a few works of art. We choose the Botticelli and da Vinci rooms. Surely the largest collection of Madonnas anywhere - and from our lessons with Bill, we know how to look at the symbols that surround the Mother and Child. What an experience! We look forward to returning more than once in the next days; our Uffizi card entitles us to a free ticket as many times as we wish to visit.
Next we make our way to the terrace, carefully avoiding museum fatigue and looking forward to the view that Bill has recommended so highly. It is indeed spectacular, although the gathering dark clouds and approaching rain are a little daunting. Today we have been smarter: our rain jackets are knotted around our waists. By the time we finally find our way out of the enormous building, another huge thunderstorm has developed. We zip up our jackets, pull up our hoods, and venture out. Mike grumbles behind me, "We need to tell all of these guys selling umbrellas and slickers to get the **** out of the way!" And actually, he has a point.
Back at the hotel, we are wet from the thighs down, and have yet another two pairs of shoes totally soaked. We are rapidly running out of dry footwear, but are very grateful for the protection we did get from our rain jackets. And it was an adventure!
Wonderful small hotel, a great lecture, the Duomo in 97-degree heat - and hail!
What a day! After a blissful eight hours of sleep, AND the early delivery of my suitcase to the hotel (thank you, KLM, Air France, and a totally unexpectedly efficient group of folks at the Florence airport), we had a beautiful breakfast courtesy of Carla and her son Paolo, our innkeepers here at the Hotel Casci. I must heap praises on this wonderful small hotel. The rooms are great, the water is hot, the floors are marble, there is a frescoed ceiling in the narrow dining room where we eat our breakfast and have our classes. The food! Wonderful Italian frutta, eggs supplied just for American and northern European tastes, and delicious coffee. Even the water tastes good.
After breakfast, we shower and dress and come to class at 10:30. Our instructor, Bill Walter, is an absolute fount of knowledge, with years of humanities teaching to his credit. He immerses us in the history of art and architecture for this beautiful city, and we are sorry to end at noon. In fact, we keep him talking for an extra 10 or 15 minutes, just with questions. (This is par for the course for OLLI folks. We have boundless curiosity and absolutely no shame.)
It's 12:15. Mike and I venture outdoors. It is 97 degrees already, but low humidity. Never mind - it's just plain hot. We stroll down the street, headed for a small grocery store. There we buy salami, some wonderful sliced cheese, two croissants (we can't help it, we love them), some mustard, a six-pack of acqua naturale, and (also can't help it) a bag of chips. These are special chips - nothing but potatoes, olive oil and a little salt. Back in our room, we make sandwiches and the chips are great. So are the sandwiches.
Then out the door again with the group, down the street a mere two blocks, and we are in the piazza of the Duomo. Bill accompanies us and continues the lecture from the morning, giving us all the wonderful details the guidebooks don't mention. There are literally throngs of people; it's high tourist season in Florence. That's okay with us - we're here for two weeks, and we'll come back in the evening and wander the piazza as much as we wish.
Such a great day - so far!
As we wander towards the hop-on/hop-off bus tour, which we've planned for today and which tickets will be good for 48 hours, it begins to rain. No worries; we simply duck into a gelato shop and buy a couple of cones. Mike has lemon; I have chocolate (duh). It's delicious. We sit at a table with a group of girls from Minnesota, who are visiting Italy for the first time. They are beautiful, athletic, probably a team of some sort. They're a little google-eyed - Minnesota girls probably have never experienced heat like this. We are fine. We are from Florida, after all, the humidity is low.
As the rain lets up, we all comment (as we always do back home), "Looks like it's about over." And we head for the bus, which boards near the train station, only a few blocks away.
The bus won't hold all of us in the interior, so half the group climbs to the open seating on top. The seats are wet, and there's much joking about getting them dry. One husband invites his wife to slide across both seats to dry them off; she gives him a look. We are optimistic; the brief shower has produced a cool breeze.
As the bus pulls away from the curb, the rain returns. This, my friends, is not just a gentle shower. This is an old-fashioned, gully-washing, frog-strangling, soak-you-to-the-skin-in-30-seconds, just-like-north-Florida thunderstorm, complete with lightning, thunder - and hail.
No one is prepared. This storm wasn't predicted by the Weather Channel. No one has an umbrella or a rain slicker. Some have hats; I do not. First I open a map and hold it in front of my face, as my glasses are like little windshields with no wipers. The map melts and falls apart in about five minutes. Then I use a partially unfolded brochure, just to shield my eyes. The earbuds so thoughtfully supplied by the bus company continue to pipe Verdi into my ears, and the recorded voice of the English-speaking guide cheerfully directs me to see this beautiful piazza on the right and that amazing bridge on the left. I can see nothing. It's raining cats and dogs.
Mike is as miserable as a human being possibly can be. He is angry, cold, wet, worried about his camera, which is out of its case and in his pocket. My bag has all of our money - I'm wondering if we can dry it out when we get back to our hotel. IF we get back to our hotel. The round trip lasts more than an hour, and it pours the entire time. If Dante were still around, he would create another level of hell with exactly these conditions.
However, most of our group is laughing and joking. We all look like drowned rats. Someone even jokes about a lightning strike being just about all we haven't experienced so far on this trip. Those of us raised in the deep South don't think this is one bit funny.
As we ride through the streets of Florence, cheers go up from the throngs on the sidewalks who are sensibly sheltering from the storm under awnings and umbrellas. We love the Italian shopkeepers who wave and smile and shout, "Buongiorno!" We try not to sulk. We are cold. We are shivering. We think we'll be on this bus for all eternity.
But of course we survive. After all, it's just a little rain. We get back to our hotel, strip off our wet clothes and I head for the shower. I wash and dry my hair, put on dry clothes, grab a bottle of water out of the in-room fridge, and head for the lounge. "I'm going to post on my blog," I tell Mike. He's lying on the bed, reading. "I'm going to finish this chapter, then take a shower,," he says. "In fact, it's nice to just lie here and read for a minute."
"We're on vacation," I tell him. "Enjoy!" He gives me a little wave, then goes back to his book.
A little later, we'll go out, maybe have a glass of wine, find some pasta and insalata mista somewhere, and take that evening stroll back to the Duomo. Paradise, indeed.
After breakfast, we shower and dress and come to class at 10:30. Our instructor, Bill Walter, is an absolute fount of knowledge, with years of humanities teaching to his credit. He immerses us in the history of art and architecture for this beautiful city, and we are sorry to end at noon. In fact, we keep him talking for an extra 10 or 15 minutes, just with questions. (This is par for the course for OLLI folks. We have boundless curiosity and absolutely no shame.)
It's 12:15. Mike and I venture outdoors. It is 97 degrees already, but low humidity. Never mind - it's just plain hot. We stroll down the street, headed for a small grocery store. There we buy salami, some wonderful sliced cheese, two croissants (we can't help it, we love them), some mustard, a six-pack of acqua naturale, and (also can't help it) a bag of chips. These are special chips - nothing but potatoes, olive oil and a little salt. Back in our room, we make sandwiches and the chips are great. So are the sandwiches.
Then out the door again with the group, down the street a mere two blocks, and we are in the piazza of the Duomo. Bill accompanies us and continues the lecture from the morning, giving us all the wonderful details the guidebooks don't mention. There are literally throngs of people; it's high tourist season in Florence. That's okay with us - we're here for two weeks, and we'll come back in the evening and wander the piazza as much as we wish.
Such a great day - so far!
As we wander towards the hop-on/hop-off bus tour, which we've planned for today and which tickets will be good for 48 hours, it begins to rain. No worries; we simply duck into a gelato shop and buy a couple of cones. Mike has lemon; I have chocolate (duh). It's delicious. We sit at a table with a group of girls from Minnesota, who are visiting Italy for the first time. They are beautiful, athletic, probably a team of some sort. They're a little google-eyed - Minnesota girls probably have never experienced heat like this. We are fine. We are from Florida, after all, the humidity is low.
As the rain lets up, we all comment (as we always do back home), "Looks like it's about over." And we head for the bus, which boards near the train station, only a few blocks away.
The bus won't hold all of us in the interior, so half the group climbs to the open seating on top. The seats are wet, and there's much joking about getting them dry. One husband invites his wife to slide across both seats to dry them off; she gives him a look. We are optimistic; the brief shower has produced a cool breeze.
As the bus pulls away from the curb, the rain returns. This, my friends, is not just a gentle shower. This is an old-fashioned, gully-washing, frog-strangling, soak-you-to-the-skin-in-30-seconds, just-like-north-Florida thunderstorm, complete with lightning, thunder - and hail.
No one is prepared. This storm wasn't predicted by the Weather Channel. No one has an umbrella or a rain slicker. Some have hats; I do not. First I open a map and hold it in front of my face, as my glasses are like little windshields with no wipers. The map melts and falls apart in about five minutes. Then I use a partially unfolded brochure, just to shield my eyes. The earbuds so thoughtfully supplied by the bus company continue to pipe Verdi into my ears, and the recorded voice of the English-speaking guide cheerfully directs me to see this beautiful piazza on the right and that amazing bridge on the left. I can see nothing. It's raining cats and dogs.
Mike is as miserable as a human being possibly can be. He is angry, cold, wet, worried about his camera, which is out of its case and in his pocket. My bag has all of our money - I'm wondering if we can dry it out when we get back to our hotel. IF we get back to our hotel. The round trip lasts more than an hour, and it pours the entire time. If Dante were still around, he would create another level of hell with exactly these conditions.
However, most of our group is laughing and joking. We all look like drowned rats. Someone even jokes about a lightning strike being just about all we haven't experienced so far on this trip. Those of us raised in the deep South don't think this is one bit funny.
As we ride through the streets of Florence, cheers go up from the throngs on the sidewalks who are sensibly sheltering from the storm under awnings and umbrellas. We love the Italian shopkeepers who wave and smile and shout, "Buongiorno!" We try not to sulk. We are cold. We are shivering. We think we'll be on this bus for all eternity.
But of course we survive. After all, it's just a little rain. We get back to our hotel, strip off our wet clothes and I head for the shower. I wash and dry my hair, put on dry clothes, grab a bottle of water out of the in-room fridge, and head for the lounge. "I'm going to post on my blog," I tell Mike. He's lying on the bed, reading. "I'm going to finish this chapter, then take a shower,," he says. "In fact, it's nice to just lie here and read for a minute."
"We're on vacation," I tell him. "Enjoy!" He gives me a little wave, then goes back to his book.
A little later, we'll go out, maybe have a glass of wine, find some pasta and insalata mista somewhere, and take that evening stroll back to the Duomo. Paradise, indeed.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Still in Amsterdam!
After a two-hour delay in ATL yesterday,we have been in Amsterdam FOREVER. The Italian air traffic controllers went on strike yesterday.so our flight from Amsterdam to Florence was canceled. We're on a much later flight through Paris and won't arrive until 9:30 this evening.The good news is that we're with OLLI friends, and, trust me,we're so punchy and sleep-deprived, the whole experience is beginning to seem like fun!
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Moving Forward, Embracing Change - An Additional Goal for My Third Thirty
I'm reading "Under the Tuscan Sun" as we get ready to leave next week for Florence. I read "Prague Winter" last fall as we cruised the Rhine with Prague as our eventual destination. I loved being immersed in Madeleine Albright's story, and I loved seeing the places she had seen as a child.
I expect to feel the same as I wander Florence and several smaller Tuscan villages over the next two weeks. Already the lush language and beautiful setting of the book has me under its spell.
I was most struck by a line from the preface. Mayes observes, "To bury the grape tendril in such a way that it shoots out new growth I recognize easily as a metaphor for the way life must change from time to time if we are to go forward in our thinking." I read this, then read it again. "Wow," I thought. "I know so many people who need to hear this."
Especially as we age, we seem to feel as though we're in the final act of our lives, that new ideas and experiences are reserved for the young, that we must go about the business of tidying up our loose ends, then sit quietly and contemplate the past. At age 66, I observe this behavior in family and friends. It's simply never occurred to me, before I read this sentence of Frances Mayes', that change and forward movement are forever. How exciting to think that at any moment, around any corner, there may be something new that completely alters my course, even at my age!
I think this might be what frightens many people when they think of no longer being actively working for a living. It's not surprising; we spend decades working, striving, failing, trying again, succeeding - and finally quitting, sometimes just from exhaustion. But both the aging process and the act of ceasing to be employed are simply changes - one ongoing, another a bit sudden. How empowering to simply embrace our age, embrace our new circumstances! And happy is the person who reaches into new corners, pokes around new places to find out how they tick. How well we would sleep! How beautifully we'd dream!
My challenge is to remember this metaphor. And I think I might clue a few other folks in . . . .
I expect to feel the same as I wander Florence and several smaller Tuscan villages over the next two weeks. Already the lush language and beautiful setting of the book has me under its spell.
I was most struck by a line from the preface. Mayes observes, "To bury the grape tendril in such a way that it shoots out new growth I recognize easily as a metaphor for the way life must change from time to time if we are to go forward in our thinking." I read this, then read it again. "Wow," I thought. "I know so many people who need to hear this."
Especially as we age, we seem to feel as though we're in the final act of our lives, that new ideas and experiences are reserved for the young, that we must go about the business of tidying up our loose ends, then sit quietly and contemplate the past. At age 66, I observe this behavior in family and friends. It's simply never occurred to me, before I read this sentence of Frances Mayes', that change and forward movement are forever. How exciting to think that at any moment, around any corner, there may be something new that completely alters my course, even at my age!
I think this might be what frightens many people when they think of no longer being actively working for a living. It's not surprising; we spend decades working, striving, failing, trying again, succeeding - and finally quitting, sometimes just from exhaustion. But both the aging process and the act of ceasing to be employed are simply changes - one ongoing, another a bit sudden. How empowering to simply embrace our age, embrace our new circumstances! And happy is the person who reaches into new corners, pokes around new places to find out how they tick. How well we would sleep! How beautifully we'd dream!
My challenge is to remember this metaphor. And I think I might clue a few other folks in . . . .
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
ITALY, HERE WE COME!
I'm astounded to discover that I haven't posted to my blog since 2011! It's not as though I've been away all that time - in fact, I spend waaaay too much time looking at this computer screen.
Funny thing about blogging: it takes a certain amount of chutzpah to have a strong feeling that anyone (or everyone) is interested in one's thoughts. I guess I just lost that drive to share?
At any rate, here I am. Mike and I are one week away from departure; we're leaving for Florence, Italy, with an OLLI group on June 10. I hope to be able to access my blog while we're away, and plan to use it as a journal of this trip. The last trip we took, a Viking river cruise through the middle Rhine Valley, came and went without my recording a single thought or posting very many pictures. What a waste! I vowed once I returned to not let that happen again.
So, for any of you who are interested, I pledge to record thoughts and impressions as we travel. And to all of you who regard this as an excellent opportunity to back a truck up to my front door and haul away all of our possessions, fair warning: big, strong son and ferocious dog will be in residence the entire time. While that is terrible news for robbers and burglars, it's great for Mike and me. We know the house and the puppy will be well-cared-for.
We plan to climb the 297 steps from the ground to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We practiced yesterday by climbing from the Plaza Level of the Capitol building to the 15th floor - 308 steps! Today we have sore calves and thighs, but it was actually really fun. And we now feel as though it's possible for these old bones to be dragged up that tower to enjoy the view.
SO - Italy, here we come! And I'll probably gripe a little bit about packing sometime later this week.
June 3, 2014
Funny thing about blogging: it takes a certain amount of chutzpah to have a strong feeling that anyone (or everyone) is interested in one's thoughts. I guess I just lost that drive to share?
At any rate, here I am. Mike and I are one week away from departure; we're leaving for Florence, Italy, with an OLLI group on June 10. I hope to be able to access my blog while we're away, and plan to use it as a journal of this trip. The last trip we took, a Viking river cruise through the middle Rhine Valley, came and went without my recording a single thought or posting very many pictures. What a waste! I vowed once I returned to not let that happen again.
So, for any of you who are interested, I pledge to record thoughts and impressions as we travel. And to all of you who regard this as an excellent opportunity to back a truck up to my front door and haul away all of our possessions, fair warning: big, strong son and ferocious dog will be in residence the entire time. While that is terrible news for robbers and burglars, it's great for Mike and me. We know the house and the puppy will be well-cared-for.
We plan to climb the 297 steps from the ground to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We practiced yesterday by climbing from the Plaza Level of the Capitol building to the 15th floor - 308 steps! Today we have sore calves and thighs, but it was actually really fun. And we now feel as though it's possible for these old bones to be dragged up that tower to enjoy the view.
SO - Italy, here we come! And I'll probably gripe a little bit about packing sometime later this week.
June 3, 2014
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