We got up early in the morning and took a bus from Siena to Florence—it's actually faster than taking the train. (Taking the train would mean transferring and taking a roundabout route, while the bus goes directly there.) The weather was once again cold and drizzly. This should not be much of a surprise to anyone who's been keeping track of the weather. Our trip pictures are a little frightening because you can't figure out by our outfits what day it is—we hadn't packed for such cold temperatures!
Casual tourists in Florence should make sure to bring a map with them whenever they go, well, anywhere. Street names in Florence can (and VERY often do) change every block. This can mean disaster, to put it mildly. My mother managed to get herself turned around and lost for a good half hour on her previous trip. I'd laughed at that the first time I heard the story. Once I'd been in Florence, I learned how very easy it was to get lost. Hotel Bretagna (a nice hotel, incidentally) was right on the Arno River, one bridge down from the Ponte Vecchio. This was a good thing because we had a reference point in case someone got lost. We checked in and decided to head down to the Ponte Vecchio, but before we could get there...
GREG IS ALMOST ROBBED, PART II I can't remember why, but for some reason I ended up about twenty paces behind the rest of my family as we left the hotel. Within seconds a group of street urchins swarmed up around me. One of them held out a piece of cardboard and I knew what was supposed to happen next—they'd rob me blind. Call me a stick-in-the-mud, but I didn't think that would be a lot of fun. I shoved my way through them, smacking a couple of the kids with my not-yet-open umbrella. The kids got the hint and promptly gave up, looking for an easier target. In those couple of seconds, the kids managed to get my fanny pack halfway open. All I had in there was extra film—since it was cold, I had on my jean jacket and my camera was in the inside pocket. I decided that this was making me a target for thieves and stuck the fanny pack in my mother's backpack for the rest of the day. (Later in the day we saw a pair of children try to rob people using the hold-up-a-magazine-to-distract trick. They looked at us and my mother gave them such a look of malice that they didn't even bother. Proof, I suppose, that the "evil teacher look of death" is universal.) Anyway, our first stop was the Ponte Vecchio. It's the oldest bridge in Florence, and is lined with stores on both sides. It's full of jewelry stores, ones that I suspect were overpriced. Since I wasn't looking for jewelry, though, it didn't make a big impression on me.
We walked up a little bit and found ourselves at the Piazza della Signoria. This is where the statue of David used to stand before they moved it into a museum; there's a replica of the statue on display there now. Some other statues are still there, including the Rape of the Sabine Women, which I found really impressive. The Fountain of Neptune was also a real eye-catcher.
Our next stop was the Straw Market, one of several marketplaces in Florence. I picked up nice silk ties for my roommates Marc and Sadron before starting to shop for myself in Florence. My mission? Leather. Specifically, a black leather jacket. I own a heavy brown leather jacket already, but wanted to have a midweight jacket that I could wear in slightly warmer climates, as well as one that was slightly dressier than the one I owned. I saw one potential place in the Straw Market but decided to come back later. Looking in the stores on the streets, I quickly decided that they were far too expensive, with most jackets running at least $700. If I wanted to spend that much, I'd buy one at home! From the Straw Market we headed to the Piazza del Duomo, which is where the Cathedral of Santa Maria Del Fiore (known as the Duomo) is. The Duomo's dome was designed by Brunelleschi, and is the largest one built since the Pantheon. The Duomo's coloring is very strange—it felt like you were looking at a computer model of a cathedral rather than a real one, with its vivid candy cane greens and pinks. I think part of the reason it looked fake was how perfect the Duomo is; every measurement in terms of marble blocks, stripes on the dome, and such are exact. It's a really imposing structure.
Also in the Piazza del Duomo is the Baptistry, since people were not allowed to enter the Duomo until they'd been baptized. The bronze doors (sadly replicas—I have no idea where the originals are) are the Gates of Paradise, designed by someone-or-another. (I thought it was Michelangelo, but I was told that no, it wasn't.) I was actually more impressed with the ornate ceiling of the Baptistry inside.
We headed a little further north into the city and came to the Accademia, where Michelangelo's David is on display. After hearing nothing but gushing praise about this statue for years, I was ready for disappointment. I wasn't. It really is impressive as everyone says. With one small exception (his hair, which is stylized) the statue looks as if it's a real person, ready at a moment's notice to step down and walk around. (Well, if there were gigantic people walking around, at any rate.) While we were in the Accademia, I was amused to find that they have a replica of the Rape of the Sabine Women on display. I guess that makes the Accademia and the Piazza della Signoria tied: one replica and one real statue a piece.
Our family can only see so many sights before going shopping again, of course. The San Lorenzo Market is a great marketplace—it's like the Straw Market with tons of stands and such, but the prices were really good. I suspect this is because the Straw Market is more well known, and also in a smaller area. It was there that I bought a nice black lambskin leather jacket. Let's just say that I got a great deal (especially since I needed to get the sleeves taken in) and leave it at that. The name of the store was the Leather Factory, but I suspect every other leather store in Florence is named that! On the way back to the hotel I tried to find a cybercafe that I was told was near the Straw Market, but had no such luck. Once I got back to the hotel I found out that it wasn't near the Straw Market but was near the Duomo. Oops! I made a mental note to stop by it the next day. For dinner we went across the Arno River at Trattoria La Casalinga. I have written down that the food was delicious but I can't remember what I ate. Last but not least, my sisters decided to keep me up that night by holding an impromptu concert in our room, singing various Indigo Girls and Simon & Garfunkle songs. None of the original singers should worry about being out of a job any time soon!
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