Firenze

My traveling companion and I caught an early bus to the Camucia train station at the foot of Cortona’s hill then caught a train to Firenze, Florence. The 1 ¼ hour train ride traversed some of the most beautiful Tuscan scenery. Because it’s been such a cool and rainy spring and summer, the countryside was lush and green, more like England than Italy. Roses, geraniums, and other flowers were blooming riotously in gay abandon. usually the sunflowers bloom late June into July, but I imagine they will be late this year due to the cooler than normal weather, which is too bad as I will miss them.

The train stops in Arezzo and makes two stops in Firenze (Florence). We exited at the last stop, Santa Maria Nouvella. From there it was a short walk to the Duomo, an incredibly massive wedding cake of a cathedral constructed of white, green, and pink marble and ornately frosted with gothic windows, carved doors, statues, and marble curlicues. It was so large I had difficulty taking pictures of more than one small part of it at a time. Because the line to enter the Duomo was so long I decided to wait until the next morning to visit, planning to be there right when it opened to avoid the crush of tourists.

We found our way to the restaurant we had reserved for lunch, but we arrived 45 minutes early and the staff was still eating their meal. I wanted to wait until our reservation time, but my traveling companion felt sure the restaurant owners wouldn’t mind that we were early as she usually arrives early. We sat out on a small porch covered with vines on the open side, and both order the fixed price menu beginning with tortellini and followed by a grilled chicken breast, french fries and deep fried squash blossoms, then dessert. One of the restaurant owners was our waiter and another owner came over to greet us and ask if we were enjoying our meal. Unfortunately, as he chatted with us he was staring down the front of my blouse. After Creepy Guy made his departure and I dried the drool from my cleavage with a napkin, I indulged in a sinful dessert of profiteroles filled with vanilla gelato and swimming in a puddle of rich melted Perugina chocolate. To die for….

We checked into our small, simple hotel located directly behind the restaurant and wandered off explore several pedestrian only shopping streets lined end to end with shops and boutiques. I even found a shop specializing in my breathable shoes and two featuring Murano glass. Ultimately we located the famous Ponte Vecchio, an ancient building covered bridge, now encrusted with jewelry shops whose windows were positively bursting with shimmering gold and sparkling gems. I have never seen so much gold in one place in my life and it was completely overwhelming. I imagine Howard Carter felt the same way as he cracked open the seal to King Tutankhamen’s tomb and beheld the golden glitter. I was on sensory overload!

It was raining so we poked around town protected by our umbrellas and stopped at a café where I had an $8 coffee and my friend a $6 cookie. The prices in Florence were just outrageous and the crowds of tourists impenetrable.

I toured the Duomo the next morning right at 10:00 when it opened and I am sorry to say I was very disappointed. I had anticipated something more like Siena’s Duomo, an active church with lovely decoration and pews for praying. This was essentially a large, empty room devoid of the Divine. A lifeless place.

I explored the streets near the Duomo and shopped at an outdoor market featuring leather goods, scarves, and paper products. I found a wonderful purse in a buttery soft golden leather with a dark brown leather trim. The vendor was nice enough to give me a 5 euro discount. I like to take my purse out of the plastic bag and inhale its rich aroma. It’s one of my guilty pleasures!
I met up with my traveling companion and we had a terrible, but expensive, lunch at an outdoor table of a trattoria. I order the mixed crostini (toasts) and got one covered with something that looked, smelled, and tasted like warm dog food. I ventured a nibble, but could not bring myself to eat any more. My companion was more direct, “That looks like shit.” I’ll certainly not be returning to that restaurant!

We returned home on a slower train which made more stops in picturesque little towns than the one we’d arrived on. I must say I was very glad to be home in Cortona. My traveling companion and I agreed that we do not travel well together. She prefers to network and stops to speak to every English speaking person she encounters which, in Florence, are many. She enjoys exchanging personal information and making contacts. I am much more introspective and a couple of pleasant conversations satisfy me. I prefer to absorb the culture and savor the Italian experience. That is why I came to Italy. I am, however, very appreciative of my opportunity to visit Firenze and I am grateful to my companion for showing me how to take the train and navigate this busy city. I know that she had to curtail some of the things she wanted to do because I was there.