Florence

Last weekend some friends and I were in Florence, a major town in the west of Italy and north of Rome, enjoying our first weekend of freedom, away from tedious seminars and dizzying programs.

We arrived on Friday night and found our hostel with the help of a friendly stranger, who happened to be from Houston, Texas, like one of us in the crew.  Most of us were tired, so a few of us went out while those who were tired went to bed.

Saturday was our day of adventure.  Our first sight to see was the Duomo, the cathedral of Santa Maria Del Fiore.  Inside the colossal church are very high ceilings, curved upwards in the classic medieval style. Stained glass window portraits, brilliant tapestry-paintings and shrines of honorable religious figures dressed the wall, signifying the majesty of centuries past.  Straight ahead from the entrance was an enormous section devoted to Mass and other processions.  Rows of wooden pews faced an altar curve up front with stained glass windows and an altar upon which they shine their divine light.  The section is roped off to preserve its regal glow, but tourists are free to admire two 'trees' of candles for worship and inspiration.  A gift shop is located downstairs, in an old cellar used for storage for relics.

Adventurous persons looking for a bird's-eye view of Florence can climb to the to the top of the Duomo.
 There are three levels of circular walkways that look down upon the Mass areas.  The first is halfway up to the spectacular Heaven and Hell painting adorning the top of the inside of the Duomo.  The second level circles at the base of the painting.  Of the five of us who went up into the dome (Rob, Ryan, Donna, Jeremy and me), Donna and I decided not to pursue the third and final outside level because we are not fans of being up at such great heights.  I was happy to have seen the  inside of the dome, so I had no objections to getting down to the bottom as soon as possible.  Donna was even more excited to get back to level ground than I was.  Rob said that we had made a good choice in not going to the third level because the walkway is on the outside of the dome.  It's very narrow and the protective gate would only come up to my waist had I gone.  I was not unhappy that I had decided against it.

After that we crossed Ponte Vecchio, Florence's famous bridge, on which were several merchants, some with carts and some without, trying to sell their posters or knick-knacks or t-shirts or postcards.  The bridge and the rest of the city are jam-packed with people, and very busy.  Every now and then a car would come through, and those who were selling on the street would have to retreat closer to the sidewalk so that their merchandise would not get smashed.

We went to see the Boboli Gardens, a terraced hill graced with limestone fountains, statues of Neptune and other magnificent, muscular gods and beautiful goddesses.  To be in the garden brings a feeling of mysticism, as if you are among the gods in their immortal realm.  There is a cave on the property in which statues are covered in the stalagmites that cascade from the ceiling, reminiscent of the cursed sailors of Davy Jones's ship in Pirates of the Carribean.  It is very difficult to tell whether the statues are carved from the rock, or if the rock has covered the statues as it formed over time.  It is a wonderful thing to consider and to behold.

We came back to the hostel that night, some of us willing to go out, while some of us were beat and wanted to go to sleep.  It turns out that two young men from Wales (23 and 24, I believe they were) had moved into our communal room of eight.  Their names were Andy and Andy, but Andy B is the one I spoke to more, so I'll refer to him as such to make the distinction.  They were very personable, and said they'd been traveling around Italy for the past few days, though I don't remember exactly where.  They asked Rob and I (because we were the only two in the room at the time) if we knew where Wales was.  We both did because I am a huge fan of history and geography Rob is a huge fan of soccer.

"Most people think it's part of England," Andy B. said.

The Andys were curious to know what stereotypes Rob and I knew of British people (because it's always fun to hear what other people think of your people), so we came up with a list of those we had heard over time:

1. Bad teeth
2. Tea and crumpets

Our list was weak.  Andy B. said he enjoyed tea and a scone from time to time, but that Tea Time as we perceive it in the United States is very old-school British, very traditional, and not so commonly occurring anymore.  I later asked Andy B. about how often one in the U.K. hears "'Allo, guvnah!" or "Bob's Your Uncle," and he said that you could still hear "'Allo, guvnah" in more cockney areas, but not so much of the general population.  "Bob's Your Uncle" (as in "We'll go out on the town, have some lunch, catch a movie, and Bob's your uncle!"; it's a phrase used after a plan is proposed to state that everything will work out) is apparently more common.  I did not ask about Bangers and Mash or Toad in the Hole.  I'll just have to look those ones up.

Conversely, Andy B. said that people from the United States are much more personable than our reputation would predict.  Rob and I said that most people are friendly, but that it's the extremes that one should look out for (but that's the case with most groups of people).

We decided to go down to the hostel bar in the basement, a glorious cross between a pool hall and a dance club.  In one corner was a bar one would expect to see in a Bacardi commercial, with a lit backdrop accentuating the bottles of booze and liquor that stood upon it and a trendy waiter shining glasses.  On the wall were painted silohuettes of dancing people, each with their clothes in the theme of a national flag .  On the ceiling was a disco ball that sprayed circles of a light that alternated colors across the room, moving to the music, a mix of the Black Eyed Peas, Michael Jackson, M.I.A. and the Happy Days theme song, among others.  There was nobody dancing, and I don't blame them.

When a Michael Jackson song came on I asked how people in the U.K. feel about Michael Jackson.  The sentiment is the same there as it is in the U.S.:

There are lots of people who say 'I grew up with his music,' but there's others who say 'He's a nutter, so F him!'

Our conversation moved on to an inquiry of Rob and I's taste in music.  I told him that I am into 70s and 80s rock and hair metal.  Rob showed Andy his own collection.

We talked about the rules of Cricket (of which I still don't have the foggiest), how cool it is that the Union Jack has five flags built into it, the British movie presence in America, how the U.S. was NOT to be considered the same as Canada, how nobody cares about Finland, and how Italian and British girls are beautiful. 

Throughout all of our cultural conversations I heard "Ace" and "Wicked," used to say that something is awesome.  I heard the bathroom called a "lou," which I love, but I'm not sure if I know how to spell it..

Also, a "cue" is a (waiting) line and a  "Chippy" is a place at which one eats fish and chips.  I LOVE CULTURE!

In the morning we went to see the statue of David at L'Accademia and met the Andys there.  The statue is WAY bigger than I thought it would be (if the statue is life-size, he must have been nine feet tall!)  No photography is allowed in the museum because I assume the flash could ruin the adjacent original paintings of holy people doing holy things, but luckily everyone knows what the statue of David looks like.  The gift shop had heaps of David memorabilia for those who wanted to take a David home.

After marveling at the rest of the statues in the museum (of men, women, and children and/or angels [the children and the angels looked very similar]) we wandered the streets some more before saying goodbye to Andy B.  It was not to be a permanent goodbye because he gave me his e-mail so he could read my blogs.  The internet is terrific!

The beautiful blue skies turned to gloomy gray the very minute we left Florence, as if the city was sad that the weekend was over and the weather was staying sunny for us until we left.

A weekend in Florence was a great idea and a fantastic ways to shake the boredom of going to school in a small town.