I’m holed up in a hotel across the street from the apartment as my flight was canceled. I leave before sun rises tomorrow. The hotel is dirty and overpriced, but I find it more pleasant than the apartment. I think it may be the ceiling height in the rooms.

I met 2 charming bar tenders last night at a cute and brand new bar a block or so away. (I wandered into the bar after finding out my flight was canceled.) One of them spoke 4 or 5 languages and had quite interesting stories to tell about his travels.
Ciao.

I learned some things about traveling solo. I’m not sure whether it would be helpful to share them, they may only be meaningful to me.

All week I had moments of being tired and a little homesick. Now I have a sad feeling about going home. My last day today began a little roughly. They usually do when I’m tired and forget to say please at the cafe. Saturday night in Florence is a lot like Saturday night in Pioneer Square. The young people coming out of bars kept me up late.

My tour of the Pitti Palace gardens took place in the pouring rain, but later a leather vender cleaned my shoes for me and we had a long discussion about immigration. I had a nice gelato with an Irish couple who had resettled in Paris. They were full of good advice.

These encounters are what keep me going day to day. It is exhausting however, to always be meeting someone new, rather than to have contact with someone familiar. That is the difficult thing about traveling solo. So although I’m sad to be ending my adventure, I find comfort in packing tonight.

In 2006, Su took what was her first trip to Europe. This seemed surprising for an Art History Instructor, that she had not yet managed to see the great works of Western Art in person. I read the short journal she kept of her trip. She chose to visit 3 cities, all in Italy, Venice, Florence and Rome.

She wrote in her journal that of the 3 cities Florence “Felt like home.” So I brought her here. My plan was to let her go in the Arno River, but on a short trip into the hills yesterday, I knew I had found the right place.

Fiesole is a small hill town about 20 minutes north of Florence. It is known for its Etruscan and Roman ruins. Apparently it was so well fortified it took Rome a long time to conquer it.

I took a bus to get there on what I could see from the forecast would probably be my last sunny day in Florence. I wandered about the town, and finally starving went in search of a restaurant. There was a monastery high upon the opposing hill from the city square and so I climbed the embankment hoping it was open. It wasn’t, but the view was breathtaking, better than any other I’d found from the small town. You could see all of Florence laid out as if at your feet, the dome of the Duomo sticking out, but not too much at this distance.

I knew immediately this was the place to let the rest of her go, and so I did. Pictures below.

Approach to the overlook

Hill

Here I let her go. The gentle wind took her into blossoming Iris plants and beautiful silver-leafed shrubbery I don’t know the name of, and trees which bear pine nuts, all overlooking the city of Florence, with a Queen’s eye view.

It has long been my dream to go to the Uffizi Gallery, ever since those days in Art History 102 (or was it 101?). I thought I would be in ecstasy, and indeed my tour inside of Gardner’s continues, though it’s hardly been chronological. The Uffizi does its best to keep time straight. The 2D exhibits do follow the birth of the Renaissance, its flowering, and then its briefly overrunning the garden into other movements in later centuries towards the end.

Get this: I saw Giotto, Filippino Lippi, Botticelli, Leonardo Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Bronzino, Pontormo, Rubens, Rembrandt and those are just the household names (they are household names, right?)

Two things stood out. I did not expect to be bowled over by the transition- into-Renaissance gold leafed alter pieces. Another example of how reproductions in art books do no justice, they were stunning. I found them more beautiful than several of their successors which are thought to be superior. The other was Botticelli. Again, I did not see the delicate line and subtlety of rendering, and overall flow that is apparent in real life. Spring and Birth of Venus required extra sitting and staring time. They were breathtaking.

As for standing in front of the Doni Madonna, well what can I say? It was another one of those pinch-me moments. A kid in a tour asked his teacher why Michelangelo painted Madonna with short hair and muscles. I said perhaps because he was gay? Teach commented that bare arms weren’t allowed for centuries (really?), so Mich. broke all kinds of rules.

The Museo does not allow any photography. I played dumb and took shots until I got caught. Here’s what I got:

East Gallery/Loggia 2nd Floor uffizi

Dome #1, Uffizi

This dome was donned with shells, that’s right, sea shells.

The Ponte Vecchio as seen from the Uffizi

Looking out the window to the west, you’re allowed to photo out the windows, just not the art. Ok, I got more photos, but these were the most interesting.

More torture themes in Christian art

This was my favorite and right after I caught it a guard yelled “No photo, no photo!” That is one thing about Christian art is that there are torture scenes everywhere. This poor guy was hanging under a portrait of one of the Medicis. Eh, humans.

How about a Baptism, or some Paradise?
So I collect myself and begin to wander about. First it’s down to the Piazza Della Signoria where tourists of all kinds are separated first from their money and then their pride. Plus, everything in Florence is decorated by scaffolding and has a crane attached to it. Nice that they want to maintain the monuments, not so nice it’s happening at every single one at this moment. I’m a little irritated, and some of my criticisms might not be fair, but hey, there is one thing, could you people please fix the sewer problem? It almost constantly smells like a waste treatment plant in this town.

One thing I’ve grown to appreciate about Seattle: the scoop law! Poop here could kill. The sidewalks sometimes are no bigger than 18 inches, one step to avoid a pile can put you right in the path of an oncoming scooter. It just ain’t right.

The Piazza:

Horse cafe

Then after a very bad experience, no being ripped off by a gelato vender, I just wandered. I was very mad, but then, hey, I found Paradise.

The originals are housed in a Museo and not exposed to the elements, thank (heaven?), but these repros are somewhat lacking.

Look inside though, it’s the Baptistry, a building I’ve wanted to see since I learned of its existence.

Dome #2

To sit in a structure that is almost a thousand years old is awe inspiring. On my way out I spotted a bright red fire extinguisher. I wondered just what might burn, the entire structure is made of stone or marble. I guess the pews could catch fire? It just struck me as funny. Perhaps they’re still expecting the devil.