For your information, Rrrricardo (aka Tigger and Coco) I posted this (very long, detailed, weekful of stories) blog last night, and as it was saving the computer froze, and so I threw my hands up and painstakingly rewrote the entire entry. Painstakingly. And now I am reposting it, just so the likes of you can tell me it's not enough information, followed shortly by requests for more information-lacking blogs. Sigh.
In other news, while in Rome we do not have access to Skype, so emailing us is the best bet for anyone that want to ask us why we aren't posting more often.
We arrived in Florence last Monday, amid clouds and a rainy drizzle. It was cold here, but we welcomed the change in climate, atmosphere, and general surroundings, and we were excited to go out and explore Italy. But first, as usual, we had to find our week’s home. We took an hour long bus to the city from the airport in Pisa, and it was already dark by the time we arrived (not saying too much, actually, as it gets dark here between 5:15 and 5:30). The bus dropped us off at the city’s main train station, and we were, according to our new host Angela’s directions, supposed to catch a city bus to her place. The problem was her directions failed to mention the somewhat confusing bus map system, which does not use your basic "reading left to right" concept, and instead opts for a "tiny black arrows" method. After a few seconds of staring at the directions, and the map, we realized they were not going to magically point out which bus we should take where. A girl spoke up, offering to help us find the right bus. She was from Arizona, was studying in Florence, and apparently knew the bus system pretty well. She took us to a stop, pointed out that it went by the stop we needed, and we thanked her ever so kindly.
After riding on the bus for several minutes, I asked the bus driver if we were heading toward our stop. He told us to get off at the next stop and catch the bus going the opposite direction. We were less thankful for the Arizona girl, but we couldn’t possibly have a travel day without at least one trip in the wrong direction, so I guess it was meant to be. We finally made it to Angela’s, and she took us down to the grocery store, where we bought some pasta (of course) and she mocked us for picking up some pre-made sauce to go with it (although, she did ask us if we would be able to warm it up… yes, we know how to turn on an oven—which she apparently didn’t believe, as later she pointed out that we must turn the knob to the 0 to turn it off). We met the other girl renting in the flat, an American named Marina. She was very helpful, and after telling us which sights to hit, giving us a bus map, and insisting that we buy a magnetic bus card but not use it (because NO ONE ever checks if you have a ticket on the buses), we went to bed.
The next day, we explored the town on foot, as it is supposed to be done. We went to the main attraction, the Duomo, which has an impressive façade of dark green and white marble (Apparently a very Florentine style, and we saw it repeated throughout Tuscany). It really is beautiful, although the outside is much more lavishly decorated than the inside, although the ceiling of the dome is impressively high. We also wondered through a few street-side flea markets, and visited an ancient monastery/sacristy that had the holy bones of saints, including the wrist bone of Saint Sebastian, which is displayed in a gold forearm with an arrow through it (St. Sebastian, as you can see in one hallway of the Louvre with five or more paintings of him, was martyred via bow and arrow). After that, we visited the Palazzo Vecchio, where the statue of David once stood. The statue there now is a replica, but much more convenient than museum-going, and is still an impressive 17 feet tall. But the real reason we were at the Palazzo Vecchio, as Alex will attest, was so that I could see the building that I had once illustrated. As a graphic artist at UT, I worked on a project with the Italian language website where I had to illustrate the Palazzo Vecchio. I Illustrated that! That building in front of us!! I was very excited about it, and although Alex didn’t show it, I know she was thrilled to see the building I had drawn as well. And it was, indeed, almost as beautiful in person as it was in my illustration. After plenty of marveling, we walked down to the river and winded our way back home. That night, we went out with Marina and an American, Japanese, Korean, and Brazilian classmates of hers from her Italian school. We went to one of the greatest Italian inventions ever (Move over, DaVinci)… the Aperitivo. Basically, you go to a bar and buy an over-priced alcoholic drink (8 Euros) and then have free access to the buffet spread for the rest of the night. 8 euros for a beverage and unlimited food was quite a deal, Alex and I agreed as we filled our third plates…
On Wednesday, we meandered to the city center, and ate a nice Italian-er, Greek kebab falafel thing, along with two Italian pastries for lunch. Then we visited the Ponte Vecchio, a bridge so beautiful that, according to my dad, even Hitler refused to blow it up. The bridge really is amazing. It’s lined with little gold shops that make the cobbled bridge glow. But the really awesome part is the shops themselves. They hang like cliffs over the water on each side of the bridge, with a small web of stilts the only thing supporting them. Really cool. We went to one of the palaces, but passed on the 8 Euro visit to the gardens. Instead, we decided to sit down for a hot chocolate and an espresso. The hot chocolates in Italy are supposed to be famous for being equivalent to thick, melted chocolate. We were excited to put this legend to the test. We were only somewhat skeptical when the woman asked us to pick out a *packet* of chocolate *powder.* Okay, we’ll take this one. Are you going to sprinkle this on our melted chocolate bar, or..?
When she came out with our drinks, the hot chocolate was nice and tall, and looked delicious. We took sips and agreed it was too hot to pass judgment. A few minutes later we tried again, and waited for the rush of pure chocolate to hit us. It didn’t. It was like powdered hot chocolate. Go figure. We were disappointed a little, but it was good because it was cold out, and we decided we would give the hot chocolate another chance once we made it until Rome. Then, when the bill came, and we realized that powdered hot chocolate cost us 5.20… we decided we better see them melt the chocolate bar into the glass (and possibly stir it with a golden spoon?) before we tried the hot chocolate again. Well, at least we saved some money not going into the garden…
We ended the day by riding to the Piazzo di Michelangelo, a plaza on top of a hill across the river that provides a great panoramic view of Florence. Here also lies, or stands, another replica of David, this time in bronze. We admired the view and then went home to have some authentic Italian pizza and calzonis, which Angela made the call for from a local pizzeria for us… despite Valentina’s Italian lessons, we are not yet fluent. The calzoni, I must say, was fantastic.
Thursday was Thanksgiving Day for everyone back in the states. For we Americans in Florence, it was Grazzie-Giving Day, and we gave grazzie by heading to the nearby village of Siena (home of the color Burnt Siena, as seen in the deluxe Crayola pack). It is a medieval town full of nice architecture and centered around a D-shaped plaza, which is covered in dirt twice a year for a bareback horse race. We visited THEIR Duomo, which had the same Florentine green and white marble façade. Moreover, the interior was decorated likewise, making it one of our favorite church interiors yet. We also saw the cathedral of St. Dominique (or something), which housed some really cool modern stained glass, as well as the skull and finger of Saint Caterina. Now, we are new to the idea of bones as relics, but seeing the mummified finger of St. Caterina displayed in a gilded glass jar has to be novel to anyone… We didn’t see the skull, though, which may be because I read it was actually inside the main altar.
We left Siena early, but not before having three dollops of gelato on a big cone: Chocolate, Strawberry, and Pistachio. We arrived back in Florence early so that we could go out with Marina and her friends for Grazzie-giving. We went to a small trattoria (classified somewhere between a deli and a restaurant in Italy) and dined on wine, cheese, meats, bruschetta, roasted potatoes, roast beef, and lasagna. We enjoyed it quite a bit, but we would have enjoyed having turkey with our family as well. But alas, none of them flew to Italy to dine with us…
On Friday, we decided to visit one more medieval village before leaving Tuscany, Fiesole. Fiesole is on the city bus line from Florence, about thirty minutes up one of the many hills in the area. We arrived and picked up a map from the tourist office. We committed to two of the convenient walking trails of the village and set off on the first one. It brought us up to a small park that looked out on all of Florence and the surrounding areas. It was even more… panoramic… than the Piazza di Michelangelo. The trail took us down the hill some and around some Roman ruins, including an amphitheater and a defense wall. It was perfect weather for lots of walking too, overcast and cool. Very Fall-ish. We arrived back in the town square and started our second walking trail, which was described as an "Easy uphill and downhill walk." Both of us decided that if that trail is what they described as "easy," than we would need harnesses and carabiners to take on what they labeled as "moderate." The trail took us through a national forest and peaked at an old rock quarry that looked out on a valley of small villages mixed in with more hills and red, yellow, and orange-leaved trees. When we came to what was supposed to be the end of the national park, we met up with a fellow American hiker who could not figure how to get back to town. After much map rotating, we showed him the way we thought we all should go. We headed out before him, and he quickly met up with us as we were walking back the other way. Someone had been nice enough to paint the names of the towns and arrows on a small boulder. We eventually found our way back into town, said goodbye to "Sam," and sat down to satiate our over-hiked selves in a pizzeria.
We ordered lasagna and a pizza. The pizza we chose was "Napolitana," which was described in Italian, but we figured that it was tomato, cheese, capers, and some kind of mystery vegetable that we couldn’t translate. Much to our chagrin, when the pizza arrived, the mystery vegetable was actually anchovies, and the capers were small, slug-like see urchins. Blegh. We ate the lasagna first, and then decided to try and tackle the pizza. We picked every last sea creature off of the pizza, and were left with a mozzarella and fish juice pizza. Alex threw in the towel, but I was determined… not to waste a single euro. So I asked for some vinegar and the waiter brought it to me along with some salt and pepper. I salted and peppered the pizza until it looked like TV snow, and then drowned it in vinegar. After my augmentations, the pizza went from detestable to edible, and I actually enjoyed it. Only once or twice did I get a whiff of sea-life, but a little more vinegar made all of it taste delicious. After that, we were worn out and ready to go home, and we spent the rest of the night visiting with Angela and Marina.
We woke up and started packing, excited about our trip to Rome. Quickly, though, I realized that the churning in my stomach was not just excitement, but also the beginning of an upset stomach and fever. It hit me quickly and stayed with me throughout our train trip into Rome. Some may blame the vinegar, cheese, and fish juice pizza I ate the day before, but I don’t think that had anything to do with it at all. Really. And as we watched the beautiful Italian countryside pass us on the train, I turned to Alex and said, "Excuse me for a moment, I must go throw up." Despite vomiting on the train (the toilets of which, by the way, empty directly onto the train tracks, which means I actually vomited on the beautiful Italian countryside... you're welcome for that information), we were both pleased with our time in Florence and excited about doing as the Romans do.
