Two views of Florence

Sunday, May 31st 2009
Day 12
Written en route to Turin, Italy at 7:15pm

We are currently on the super slow regional train heading to Turin, leaving Florence. The past two days have been a blur of cathedrals, leather shops, tiny, buzzing streets, and sleepless nights. Though I'll admit the 'must see' tourist attractions were quite impressive--I found the Duomo's beauty to come from its simple grandeur, and who knew David looked so apprehensive from his left side?--we also found the most memorable and exciting moments to come from happenstance.

On Friday night we were able to get in contact with two professors Seth had become close with back in Chapel Hill, Dr. Nadas and Dr. Haar. They spend much of their summers in Italy conducting research on Renaissance culture and usually base themselves in Florence. After cleaning ourselves up the best we could in our scuzzy hostel and putting on the best of our 'travelling clothes', we met John and Jim at an upscale cafe right in the Piazza della Signora, once the center of the Florence's political activity. After drinks of wine and whiskey they took us around a few clever corners to a dark alley with a neon 'Ristorante' sign hanging above a door. Quaint and hidden from tourists, we found the ideal family owned restaurant. John was quickly greeted by the wife and he acknowledged the husband cooking behind the counter (it was apparent he was a regular). We were poured two more wines, little fried dough things, and delicate melt-in-your-mouth swordfish carpaccio. For primi piatti (first plate) Seth and I ordered the same dish--a perfectly light and fluffy gnocchi. Finally, they treated us to espresso and a platter of formaggio (cheese) and pere mature (ripe pears). I never understood the deal over the combination of pear and gorgonzola until that evening. It was like heaven. After having eaten out a couple times on our trip and walking away disappointed, we finally got to experience the food that we were hoping to find in Italy, and shown, by experts, how to eat it. The entire time John was chatting with the wife and cracking Renaissance-oriented jokes in Italian (which of course I didn't get), showing off his knowledge of 16th century poetry, culture, and his fluency in the vernacular. Jim, Seth's older mentor, was brilliant and encouraging and clearly proud of Seth's good work. The evening was so lively and fun and Seth and I instantly agreed it would be difficult to express our appreciation.

Dr. Haar and Dr. Nadas in the Piazza della Signoria

Yesterday night was equally surprising. After a long, tiring day, we rushed over to the Basilica di Santa Croce for the 6pm mass--the church closed at 5:30pm to paying entrants but opens at 6pm for a Saturday evening service--we decided to get in via mass. Santa Croce is home to both extraordinary artwork and the remains of influential historical figures, and we hoped to arrive early enough before mass to walk around the chapel for a quick peek. Unfortunately we arrived late--which wasn't too bad considering we had a hard time following the Italian sermon--and when it ended we inconspicuously strolled around, frantically absorbing as much of the history as possible before getting kicked out. After a couple minutes the congregation cleared out and the lights were being shut off, and we were approached by a Franciscan priest. He started talking to Seth (I don't really know how or why), but after a few moments the priest said 'ah, United States, I show you the true free Liberty'. He walked us over to the back of the cathedral to show us a monument of Liberty, said to be the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty in New York City, but this one was free of its chains. Truly Free. Then he said, 'do you see Michelangelo? I show you Michelangelo'. He walked us over to a corner, and sure enough, there was the extravagant tomb of Michelangelo. And then he showed us to the final resting place of Galileo, directly across the hall (I was totally thrilled to see this). Then the composer Rossini. Then Napoleon's sister and cousin. He led us into a separate room to show off relics of St. Francis, and explained the water damage in the halls and how many pieces of art suffered a terrible 4m high flood in 1966. After a few minutes of leading us around the cathedral, Seth asked 'and Brunelleschi has works here?' Father said, 'Yes, Brunelleschi. The cathedral is closed, but I can show it specially for you.' He pulled out a key from his pocket and took us into the cloisters designed by Brunelleschi, and finally, into a circular room called Cappella de'Pazzi, described as Brunelleschi's most impressive work, a masterpiece of Renaissance architecture (Seth had wanted to see this). Indeed, the cathedral was so impressive and packed with so many influential pieces that it was a shame to not spend more time there--we probably could have explored it for many hours. However, it seemed so unique and satisfying to be led by a priest on a private, after-hours tour away from the rest of the mob that it didn't matter. As we left Santa Croce's gate and returned to the rest of the world we both felt shell shocked and bedazzled that that could happen to us.

On the way up to Piazzale Michelangelo

The view from Piazzale Michelangelo

The Duomo (Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore) at
about 6:30am -- before the crowds set in

The Last Judgement, the ceiling of the Duomo

Ponte Vecchio, the covered bridge--before the crowd arrives

The mob at Ponte Vecchio

Chiesa di Santa Margherita, where Dante first saw his muse, Beatrice, and wed Gemma (both women are burried here). Dante lived across the street.

Why can't there be more little electric three wheelers?

The Rape of the Sabines (the original), Galleria dell'Accademia.

Gelato

Cellini's Perseus with the Head of Medusa, in the Loggia della Signoria

Piazza della Signoria
(again, an early-morning run to beat the crowds)

The leather stalls at the Mercato de San Lorenzo. As touristy as it is, I must admit I bought a hat here.

Mercato di Sant'Ambrogio: the outdoor food market

Mass at the Duomo the morning we left Florence