Wednesday, September 8: Florence

In the spring of 2009, Chris and Rianne spent a week in Italy.  Chris, who admits he doesn’t know much about art, focused his attention, and his photographs, on the details in Italian works of art that caught his attention.  In his pictures from that week, he had found details such as a person in a Renaissance painting who looked like he was wearing a Panama hat, and a fruit on a tree that really did look like a dill pickle.  When he and Rianne climbed the winding stairs inside the dome in the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence, he took several pictures of the dome’s fresco.  It depicts the Last Judgment, with Heaven (of course) at the top of the dome and Hell around the bottom edge.  Without going into gruesome detail, there was a dragonish-looking creature, which I assume was Satan, dining on the unfortunates who had been pitched into his pit.  That guy kind of resonated with my instinctively vengeful feelings against the many and varied selfish, greedy, not-nice creeps who daily profit from  the misfortune of the vulnerable on this planet.  So ever since I saw Chris’s pictures I have been condemning selected sociopathic jerks to the dragon.  I really wanted to say hello to the dragon on this trip.

Tom and I lined up at 9AM for the 10AM opening of the dome.  We should have known something was amiss when they didn’t charge us the advertised 6 euros admission.  Anyway, after our hour wait (during which we visited with a young American couple who had both graduated from Washington State University—small world!) we got in for free, commenced climbing, and reached the walkway at the base of the dome.  Very, very nice aerial views of Florence.  Also some really nice glimpses of lightning popping on the horizon, as a storm was headed our way.  

On the walkway at the base
of the dome.

  

With the Campanile (Bell Tower)
in the background.

Rumbly skies over Florence.



The Baptistery as seen from above, with people gathered

around its golden doors.



The elusive dome, from the outside

When we had finished enjoying the view from the base of the dome, we were ready to begin our climb to the top of the dome’s interior and see the Last Judgment up close.  But the door was blocked.  The dome was closed.  We still aren’t sure why.  Was it the storm?  Was there something else going on inside that day?  I was disappointed my quest went unfulfilled, and I really would like to go back someday.

When we reached ground level we were able to crane our necks from an angle and just see part of the fresco.  But no dragon.

Whatever.  We went back to the hotel, gathered up our dirty clothes, and hauled them to the launderette down the street.  While I sulked and babysat the laundry, Tom rustled us up some sandwiches from a shop somewhere nearby.






As soon as our laundry was done and sandwiches eaten, it was time to meet our tour group at a specific statue at the Loggia della Signoria, which Daniela had pointed out to us yesterday, for our tour of the Uffizi Gallery.  With two of our fellow tour group members, we set out at a brisk pace through the driving rainstorm that we had seen on the horizon that morning, dodging street vendors who were determined to sell us rain ponchos and cheap umbrellas.  And yes, of course we got a little lost.  And we were a little late (I hate being late.)  But eventually we made it and nobody seemed too upset with us.

Our tour guide, Ricardo (“Practice rolling your R’s—RRicarrdo,” he said) was really knowledgeable about the art and other things he showed us that afternoon.  Interestingly, he said his father was also a tour guide, so I guess it was a family tradition.

During our tour of the Uffizi, I gained even more respect for Michelangelo, and also for Leonardo Da Vinci, and even Donatello and Rafael—basically all the Ninja Turtles.  I always knew they were cool, but I didn’t know how much they sort of ruled the Renaissance.  Now I know.

We weren’t allowed to take pictures in the Gallery itself, but pictures out the window were allowed, so we got this nice view of the Ponte Vecchio spanning the Arno River.  (We never made it to the Ponte Vecchio either—another reason to go back to Florence.)

Tom squints in the sun as Ricardo tells
us about the Basilica.  The rainstorm
was over!

After the Uffizi, Ricardo took us on a short walk to the Basilica of Santa Croce, which contains the tombs of a whole bunch of famous Italians, including Michelangelo, Galileo, and Niccolò Machiavelli, as well as monuments to some who are buried elsewhere, such as Dante and Enrico Fermi.  The façade of the Basilica was designed by Niccolò Matas, who apparently was Jewish—thus the Star of David at the top.

Inside the Basilica.



You can see monuments to various eminent Italians along the wall.



Ricardo (on the left) tells us about the pazzo Pazzi family
and their chapel.

The last place Ricardo took us to was the Pazzi Chapel, behind the Basilica.  This was the private chapel of the Pazzi family, who were Tuscan nobles  and bankers in Florence in the 15th century.  They are remembered for their conspiracy to murder Lorenzo and Giuliano de' Medici and to replace the Medici family as rulers of Florence.  They did succeed in murdering Giuliano, but Lorenzo escaped.  So it didn’t work out too well for them.  Ricardo told us the word “pazzo” is Italian slang for “crazy.”







 

On the chapel ceiling: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.




















After our full afternoon of touring we rested up at the hotel for a little while; then we went in search of a good Italian dinner.  We found it at Trattoria Za' Za', which was just a short walk from our hotel.  And here is where I found the second best tiramisu of my vacation.  Later on we found out Chris and Rianne had eaten here too, when they were in Florence.

Tom shows how studious he is,
even in the midst of this very fine meal…

…while Karen would rather just drink the wine
and savor the eggplant.









Tuesday Sept. 7: On to Florence

At 8:30 in the morning we said goodbye to Venice’s Hotel Serenissima, walked to the boat dock, and took a "water bus" back to our tour bus--the kind with wheels.  Back in the land of solid roads, we headed south to Florence.

We arrived at the Hotel Accademia in Florence at about 2pm.



The Hotel Accademia is on this charming little street, located in the distance
on the left where you can see a little island of potted plants under a white awning.



At 3:30 we met for a walking orientation tour, unofficially led by our Rick Steves tour guide, Daniela.  It was unofficially led by Daniela, because apparently Florence has a rule that local guides must lead the tours.  So we had a local guide who just pretty much silently followed us around to make things official while Daniela conducted the tour.

This was our first experience with earphones and wireless receivers.  We would see variations of these gadgets several more times in the next 2 weeks.  It was nice to be able to hear our guide talking without any trouble or without her having to shout.  We could just follow along, even lag behind a bit if we wanted to, and not miss any information.

Outdoor market (mmm, could smell
the leather goods!)

Basilica of San Lorenzo, with Medici Chapel behind.

 Soon after that we turned a corner, and—wow!  We were standing in the Piazza del Duomo, getting our first look at the beautiful Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, the Battistero di San Giovanni (Baptistery of St. John) and the Campanile (Bell Tower) di Giotto.  That first glimpse was breathtaking, and honestly, during the next day and a half we spent wandering in Florence, every time we walked into that Piazza it had the same effect on me.

Our first view!  Wow!  Baptistery in foreground, Duomo behind.



The Duomo and the Bell Tower



The golden Baptistery doors.



Then we walked south to the Piazza Della Signoria, where we saw the Loggia dei Lanzi, also called the Loggia della Signoria (picture below), which dates from the 14th century.  This is where we would meet the following afternoon to visit the Uffizi Gallery, which is located behind the Loggia.  (We just walked past the Loggia on this day, and I decided I wanted to take time on Wednesday to get a good look at the statues.  But rain and time constraints prevented that, so if I ever get back to Florence….)

From there we headed north again…

 

To the left, more aromatic leather goods.



Nice replica--in chalk—on the street.

We passed through the Piazza Della Repubblica…

…back past the beautiful Duomo  and Baptistry.
  

Tourists hanging out on the Duomo steps.



Then we continued north to the Galleria d’Accademia, where Michelangelo’s David lives.

We went inside to visit David, which was a real pleasure.  Something about that sculpture is kind of mesmerizing—and I mean other than his physique!  I think it’s his face.  Is the moment captured here before he slew Goliath, or after?  Is he focusing on his strategy, or is he surveying the result?  We weren’t allowed to take pictures, but I found this good one online.

Here also are Michelangelo’s unfinished slaves.  I was also really taken with these.  It was fascinating to see his work in progress because you can see how he was gradually liberating these figures from their blocks of marble, and also the sculptures took on extra meaning because the figures seemed to be suffering in their struggle to be liberated.  Again, no pictures allowed, but I found some online.





After our visit with David and the Slaves, it was time for a rest at the hotel before our group dinner at a nearby restaurant (unfortunately I forgot the name) owned by members of the family who also owned our hotel.  Great food, great conversation, great dessert cart!  Some people (one whose name is Tom) had two desserts….

A good way to end the day!

Monday Sept. 6: Lost in Venice…. Part 2

(Well, I have an apology to make to Blogspot.  I have discovered that--as I have experienced before--Microsoft Word is the culprit.  I compose these blog entries in Word and then copy the text to the blog.  Apparently there were some control characters in parts of my narrative that were offending Blogspot.  So as long as I cleanse my text by copying it first into Notepad and then from there to the blog, it seems to be all good.  I offer this explanation in case anyone else encounters problems copying text from Word to Blogspot.)

So, to continue...

After our nap we set out to eat lunch at the Osteria da Alberto, a restaurant Rick Steves had recommended in his guidebook.  We had Rick Steves’ hand-drawn map, which didn’t seem to be working so great for us.  We also had Tom’s GPS.  Here’s the thing about a GPS in Venice:  it could only get a satellite signal if we were standing in the middle of one of the bridges across a canal; otherwise it was as lost as we were in those narrow alleyways that ran between all those tall old buildings.  Tom was sick, his usually accurate sense of direction was faltering, and I’m always lost.  So we were lost.  And I was hungry and grumpy.

Does Karen look done in?

We finally gave up and stopped at a random eatery with outdoor tables on Campo Santa Maria Nova—somewhere around which Alberto’s was supposed to be.

After our quite satisfactory lunch (I had an octopus salad for my antipasti and it was pretty good, tentacles and all) we set out again; we turned down a side alley and there was Alberto’s!  Okay, so we’d go there for dinner.




Meanwhile, we started wandering again, trying to find the Piazza San Marco.  Daniela had told us that if we got lost, it would be easy to find the yellow signs that pointed either to San Marco or the Rialto Bridge.  Yeah right. Walk, walk, backtrack, find a bridge, check the GPS, dive back into the maze, etc.

Um... where are we?

In a residential area--you can see laundry
hanging across the canal.

Kind of a nice view.

 (During our two-night stay in Venice, the only time we ever saw these “Per S. Marco” or “Per Rialto” signs was when we weren’t lost.)

Finally we found Piazza San Marco and we wandered down to the harbor where the cruise ships were puking out hundreds of people.

For a few moments of respite, we walked through the only park in old Venice.  Real greenery.  Then it was finally back to the hotel for a late-afternoon nap.  Venice was exhausting.

Tom in front of Osteria da Alberto

In the evening we finally made it to Alberto’s.  When we got there we had to put our name on the list and come back in an hour for a table.  We were afraid we’d get lost again so we just wandered back and forth across Campo Santa Maria Nova.  The meal we finally had was worth the wait, and in my personal survey of Italian tiramisu, here is where I found the winner!

On our journey back to the hotel from Alberto's, we got really, really lost.  We were so glad to see that hotel--didn't find it until 10:30pm.

Someday I'd like to go back to Venice with a really good map, and conquer it.

Monday Sept. 6: Lost in Venice….Part 1

OK, Blogspot is driving me crazy.  I've tried to do this post twice, and both times it's crashed upon posting for some reason.  So maybe it's too big.  Thus, I've decided to break it into parts.  So.

Our morning started off at 8:30 with a group tour led by a local guide named Elizabetha, a joyously staccato-speaking, wildly-gesturing Venetian.  She marched us--through the intermittent rain--up and down narrow passages between rows of tall old cracked moldy buildings, through Campos and Piazzas of various sizes and over the occasional footbridge spanning a canal.  At intervals we’d halt and be treated to a mini lecture in Elizabetha’s melodious Italian version of English, with lots of body language thrown in.  She was fascinating to watch and listen to; her oratory really was musical, in a “Minute Waltz” sort of way.  Or maybe like the piano solo at the beginning of Billy Joel’s “Angry Young Man.”

This is how goods are transported
in automobile-free Venice.

The Grand Canal from the Rialto Bridge



Tom (and graffiti) atop the Rialto Bridge.



Typical narrow alleyway in the shopping
(i.e. tourist) area.

A smaller canal, with a couple enjoying
their pricey gondola ride.

 After about an hour of piazza- and campo-hopping, Elizabetha took us to a Venetian mask shop, Ca’ Del Sol, for a mask-making demonstration by its owner, an equally expressive, very artistic looking Italian who spoke no English.  So Elizabetha translated for him.  That made for some very nice Venetian communication in stereo.  It was like a manic, happy dance.  His shop was a riot of color.  Very nice.

He was showing us how to use
a mask mold.  I just loved his
style: hair, mustache, beret.

A member of our tour group, Scott,
served as a model for the different
styles of masks.

Ca' Del Sol--a beautiful shop!

Next on our schedule was a group tour of St. Mark’s Cathedral.  But when we reached St. Mark’s Square (Piazza San Marco), the tide was high, the square was under a couple of inches of water in a couple of spots, they had closed all but one entrance to the cathedral and had cancelled all group tours.  (Question: why didn’t they just put a couple of boards down for people to walk over?)  If we wanted to go in we would have to wait in the loooonnng line with everyone else—about a two hour wait.  Or—there was a way to get to the front of the line that I viewed as dishonest and so I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I couldn’t take cuts like that, when all those unsuspecting people had been waiting in line so very long.  At that moment I realized that my roots seem to be very cut-and-dried, follow-the-rules, northern European.  So Tom and I didn’t see the inside of St. Marks.  Ah well.  Instead we wandered back to the hotel and took a midmorning nap.  Which was probably a good idea because the virus that had been touring our tour bus had reached Tom at this point and he was riding kind of low in the water (an appropriate metaphor for Venice.)



Sunday, Sept. 5: On to Venice…

This morning our bus headed south and crossed from Austria into Italy via Brenner Pass. 

For lunch we stopped at Egna, a small town in the Dolomite Mountains of northern Italy.  This far north, the communities are an interesting hybrid of Italian and Austrian.  Apparently people speak both languages.  But Austrian seemed to be more in evidence on signs around town, even though we were in Italy.

We ate lunch at an outdoor café, and across the town square a community band was playing.

Each table of four shared a really pretty salad, and then we each had a sampler of three different types of Panini sandwiches.





 

 Then, of course, since we were now in Italy there was the gelato stop on the way back to the bus!

When we got to Venice, the plan was to take one of the large water “buses” up the Grand Canal to our hotel.  But there was a Regatta happening on the Grand Canal and no regular boat traffic was allowed.  So Daniela quickly negotiated for passage in several water taxis, and then all of us, with bags, piled onto these various smaller boats for a wild, misty ride that  truly lived up to the Rick Steves tour motto:  “Europe Through the Back Door,” as our little boats left the harbor and made their way up a small canal to the point where they deposited us to walk through a very narrow alleyway to finally reach our hotel.

And soon we were mugging at each other from the windows of our room at the Hotel Serenissima.

In the evening Daniela took us to St. Mark’s Square.  That first glimpse of St. Mark’s was pretty impressive, even with renovation barriers covering parts of it.

We had a group dinner that night at the Agli Artisti... 

After dinner went back to St. Mark’s Square to listen to the various small ensembles playing in front of the various restaurants on the square, which was kind of cool.



Then we ended the evening with a gondola ride.  By hiring several boats and riding as a group, we were able to ride relatively “cheaply” for 24 euros per person.  So apparently those gondola rides are a little pricey. 

But, hey, we got serenaded by an accordion-and-singer combo that rode in one of our boats.  And yeah, when we were on the Grand Canal, you bet he sang “Volare!”   And people in every gondola that passed us, even those who were not in our group, were singing along.  It’s one of those songs.