Our day in Florence began with a breakfast at a nearby restaurant. The hotel we were staying in, La Residenza Della Orafo Guest House, was supposed to be a Bed and Breakfast. However, it had a deal with a nearby coffee shop to provide breakfast in the morning. The hotel was lovely, and the ladies who ran it were lovelier. Upon our arrival, they greeted us like old friends and gave us a basket of fruit and biscuits as a welcome gift. It was clear to us throughout our stay that these people genuinely cared about their clients.
We had developed a game plan for Florence which we set out to achieve. This was interrupted briefly before setting out as I had noticed that it was overcast and raining outside. Shannon immediately blamed this on me, as only the previous day I had stated "Gee, we've had great weather so far on this trip". There is no part of me that believes that Shannon was joking in her blame.
Firstly, we were going to visit the Duomo. It was a short walk away from the hotel, and was a spectacle to see with its intricate green, red and white marble.
Unfortunately, it was closed. Keep in mind this was 9:30am. Florentines wake up late and go to bed late, which are qualities of people who are not healthy, wealthy or wise. Something that we've noticed about Italians is that a lot of them smoke. And not just older people who have somewhat more of an excuse due to a lack of education in their younger days - many, many young kids are smokers here.
You cannot walk down a street, any street, without breathing in second hand smoke for at least 90% of your walk. While I am somewhat used to the second hand smoke - working in a prison, as you can imagine, a lot of the clientele are smokers (though at least they don't smoke White Ox here, the worst smelling tobacco of them all), Shannon feels instantly ill when confronted with smoke. I think she is learning to put up with it moreso now than when we first arrived, but it still has an impact.
After taking a few photos outside the Duomo, we went to Santa Croce, a church designed by a Jewish man, which houses the monuments (and in some cases, the tombs) of a number of great Italians, including Michelangelo, Dante, Galileo, Machiavelli, da Vinci, and Marconi. The church also houses a small statue which was the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty in NYC. What’s interesting about this church is the Star of David that sits on top in the middle of the façade. The Jewish architect was informed that, because he was Jewish, he would not be allowed to be buried in the church after he died. So, as a final “f*ck you” to the Florentines, he threw a Star of David up there. Though he is not buried inside the church, he is buried outside the front door.
After seeing the inside of this church, we walked through the Piazza Santa Croce which was hosting Florence's Christmas markets. They were selling many Christmassy things (fancy that), from food to decorations to clothing. There were many German stands selling bratwurst, liverwurst, and so on. I have no idea which kind of sausage would be the "wurst" to eat, but I'm sure we'll discover this once we arrive in Munich in a few days.
Finishing up at the Christmas markets, we then crossed the River, and climbed the Piazzale Michelangelo for a picturesque view of the city.
Next stop was the Ponte Vecchio, the famous bridge of Florence that houses many expensive jewellery shops. I *think* that it was the only bridge in Florence that wasn't bombed during World War II.
Then it was on to the square that housed the city's administration buildings. There are a collection of statues in this square, most notably the fake (copy) of Michelangelo's Statue of David which stands proudly next to the city hall. We had decided against paying the 14 euro (each) to enter the Galleria d'Accademia which houses the real statue, as I'd been before and remembered it to be incredibly boring except for the statue, which you can't take pictures of anyway. So we settled for the free copy, and took our photos with it.
We then traversed back to the hotel, before heading out to my favourite restaurant in the world, Il Portale, for dinner. Mmm.
The next morning, we checked out of the hotel at 8:00am. The lovely hotelier thanked us warmly for choosing her hotel, and presented us with a gift - a bottle of Chianti - for staying with her. We were delighted, though realised that we didn't really want a bottle of wine to lug around the rest of Europe, so we gave it to a homeless beggar child on the street. Kidding! It's in my bag at the moment. But we still haven't decided what to do with it, because Shannon hates Chianti, indeed, most alcohol, and I’m not keen on getting smashed alone.
After checking out, we set off for Pisa. Pisa is only an hour away from Florence by train, and we left early in the morning (8:00am) as we had a train booked from Pisa to Milan at 2:30pm, so we had to do all we could before that time. The train ride in was without incident. However, prior to arriving at Pisa Centrale railway station, we were informed by various internet sites (Trip Advisor, Rick Steve's, etc) that there would be a facility for us to leave our large luggage at while we explored the city. We found this facility, though the filthy Guido bastard who staffed the office had decided he was going to strike today. Just him. He had posted fifteen thousand A4 pages around the office stating "02.12.2011 - I STRIKE - PERSON NO BAG DELIVERY OFFICE FOR ONE DAY ME FILTHY ITALIAN GUIDO INCONSIDERATE DICKHEAD DAY RUINER GRAZIE PREGO" (I couldn't recall the exact message but you get the general idea). He had decided to take one day off - the day we wanted to leave our luggage there. So we were stuck with the reality of having to lug our suitcases to the Leaning Tower (30 minutes walk on the other side of town), and then one of us having to sit with the bags while the other climbed the Tower.
We asked at the Train Station if there was another place we could leave our bags, and then we asked at two nearby hotels whether they would put our bags in their luggage room for the three hours we were to be in Pisa. Nowhere would accept our bags. I even offered to pay them for the service, but they wouldn't hear of it. This enraged both me and Shannon, and led Shannon to proclaim that she "f*&%ing hates Italians".
We stumbled upon an Information (i) Office near the train station, and I explained our situation to the lady behind the desk. This lady had a much friendlier face, and upon hearing our story, commented that she "hates it when the luggage room man goes on strike" and gladly offered to put our bags behind her desk for the day. We were most appreciative. I felt like Joseph, with Shannon as Mary and our luggage as Jesus. We had found our stable.
We then walked through the centre of town to the Leaning Tower: the reason that anybody goes to Pisa. Unlike the last time I visited, the scaffolding was completely off the tower this time, which allowed us to take some pretty nice pictures.
We checked our smaller bags into a locker and climbed the tower itself. The view was great, and I called home from the top to wish my brother Jacob a happy birthday and ensure him that, though his and my first nephew Theodore “Teddy Westside" Mansfield had been born the day before, he was still a valued and important member of the family (though a bit less important now).
We climbed down, walked back to the Information Desk, reclaimed our bags, and set off on the train heading towards Milano. What will the fashion capital of the world have in store for us? Stay tuned…
We had developed a game plan for Florence which we set out to achieve. This was interrupted briefly before setting out as I had noticed that it was overcast and raining outside. Shannon immediately blamed this on me, as only the previous day I had stated "Gee, we've had great weather so far on this trip". There is no part of me that believes that Shannon was joking in her blame.
Firstly, we were going to visit the Duomo. It was a short walk away from the hotel, and was a spectacle to see with its intricate green, red and white marble.
Unfortunately, it was closed. Keep in mind this was 9:30am. Florentines wake up late and go to bed late, which are qualities of people who are not healthy, wealthy or wise. Something that we've noticed about Italians is that a lot of them smoke. And not just older people who have somewhat more of an excuse due to a lack of education in their younger days - many, many young kids are smokers here.
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| (May not be our actual photo) |
After taking a few photos outside the Duomo, we went to Santa Croce, a church designed by a Jewish man, which houses the monuments (and in some cases, the tombs) of a number of great Italians, including Michelangelo, Dante, Galileo, Machiavelli, da Vinci, and Marconi. The church also houses a small statue which was the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty in NYC. What’s interesting about this church is the Star of David that sits on top in the middle of the façade. The Jewish architect was informed that, because he was Jewish, he would not be allowed to be buried in the church after he died. So, as a final “f*ck you” to the Florentines, he threw a Star of David up there. Though he is not buried inside the church, he is buried outside the front door.
After seeing the inside of this church, we walked through the Piazza Santa Croce which was hosting Florence's Christmas markets. They were selling many Christmassy things (fancy that), from food to decorations to clothing. There were many German stands selling bratwurst, liverwurst, and so on. I have no idea which kind of sausage would be the "wurst" to eat, but I'm sure we'll discover this once we arrive in Munich in a few days.
Finishing up at the Christmas markets, we then crossed the River, and climbed the Piazzale Michelangelo for a picturesque view of the city.
Next stop was the Ponte Vecchio, the famous bridge of Florence that houses many expensive jewellery shops. I *think* that it was the only bridge in Florence that wasn't bombed during World War II.
Then it was on to the square that housed the city's administration buildings. There are a collection of statues in this square, most notably the fake (copy) of Michelangelo's Statue of David which stands proudly next to the city hall. We had decided against paying the 14 euro (each) to enter the Galleria d'Accademia which houses the real statue, as I'd been before and remembered it to be incredibly boring except for the statue, which you can't take pictures of anyway. So we settled for the free copy, and took our photos with it.
The next morning, we checked out of the hotel at 8:00am. The lovely hotelier thanked us warmly for choosing her hotel, and presented us with a gift - a bottle of Chianti - for staying with her. We were delighted, though realised that we didn't really want a bottle of wine to lug around the rest of Europe, so we gave it to a homeless beggar child on the street. Kidding! It's in my bag at the moment. But we still haven't decided what to do with it, because Shannon hates Chianti, indeed, most alcohol, and I’m not keen on getting smashed alone.
After checking out, we set off for Pisa. Pisa is only an hour away from Florence by train, and we left early in the morning (8:00am) as we had a train booked from Pisa to Milan at 2:30pm, so we had to do all we could before that time. The train ride in was without incident. However, prior to arriving at Pisa Centrale railway station, we were informed by various internet sites (Trip Advisor, Rick Steve's, etc) that there would be a facility for us to leave our large luggage at while we explored the city. We found this facility, though the filthy Guido bastard who staffed the office had decided he was going to strike today. Just him. He had posted fifteen thousand A4 pages around the office stating "02.12.2011 - I STRIKE - PERSON NO BAG DELIVERY OFFICE FOR ONE DAY ME FILTHY ITALIAN GUIDO INCONSIDERATE DICKHEAD DAY RUINER GRAZIE PREGO" (I couldn't recall the exact message but you get the general idea). He had decided to take one day off - the day we wanted to leave our luggage there. So we were stuck with the reality of having to lug our suitcases to the Leaning Tower (30 minutes walk on the other side of town), and then one of us having to sit with the bags while the other climbed the Tower.
We asked at the Train Station if there was another place we could leave our bags, and then we asked at two nearby hotels whether they would put our bags in their luggage room for the three hours we were to be in Pisa. Nowhere would accept our bags. I even offered to pay them for the service, but they wouldn't hear of it. This enraged both me and Shannon, and led Shannon to proclaim that she "f*&%ing hates Italians".
We stumbled upon an Information (i) Office near the train station, and I explained our situation to the lady behind the desk. This lady had a much friendlier face, and upon hearing our story, commented that she "hates it when the luggage room man goes on strike" and gladly offered to put our bags behind her desk for the day. We were most appreciative. I felt like Joseph, with Shannon as Mary and our luggage as Jesus. We had found our stable.
We then walked through the centre of town to the Leaning Tower: the reason that anybody goes to Pisa. Unlike the last time I visited, the scaffolding was completely off the tower this time, which allowed us to take some pretty nice pictures.
We checked our smaller bags into a locker and climbed the tower itself. The view was great, and I called home from the top to wish my brother Jacob a happy birthday and ensure him that, though his and my first nephew Theodore “Teddy Westside" Mansfield had been born the day before, he was still a valued and important member of the family (though a bit less important now).
We climbed down, walked back to the Information Desk, reclaimed our bags, and set off on the train heading towards Milano. What will the fashion capital of the world have in store for us? Stay tuned…
Dude keep the bottle of wine and we can drink it when we go for Indian.
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