Yesterday (Thursday), we went to the Gallerie with the sole purpose of seeing Michelangelo's David. The statue was carved from fifteen feet of marble in the very beginning of the 16th century, and Michelangelo was actually the third artist to be contracted to do the creation. David became the symbol for Florence, symbolizing the victory of the individual against corrupt leadership.
Regardless of the history, the statue is awe-inspiring and just plain beautiful. I challenge anyone to stand in front of this chunk of marble perfection and not feel something (or a lot of somethings). I don't know how Michelangelo accomplished it but he captured the smooth, muscled limbs and innocent beauty that is so specific to a young man who has not really yet lost the look of youth. I can't possibly explain it, but I know that it took my breath away.
This morning, after going to have a cappuccino and pastry, we decided to go into the church in Santa Croce. And there, the suprise. Inside the church, first of all, was my favorite of all the ceilings I have seen. Then, I realized that around the walls were various memorials, some including the actual graves (Enrico Fermi, Gallileo, et al). But there, in front of me, was a huge memorial to Dante. Now, I have never read Dante, but my dad was something of an expert on the subject, having earned a Master's degree in Italian from Berkeley. Suddenly, I wondered: did my dad stand in this spot at some point in his life and look at this memorial? And I found myself telling Sara that, because of Dante and Petrarc and Boccaccio (all great Italian writers of the early Renaissance and all Tuscan), it was the tuscan dialect that was adopted as the official Italian language. As it turns out, Tuscan was also the dialect that had remained closest to the mother Latin. My dad's lesson, learned at some point in my childhood while eating dinner, got passed along to the next generation, and in the most appropriate of all places. Thanks, Babbo, for the lessons.
And the other goal for today? Sara has officially decreed this the "Day of Gluttony." Our last chance to have these pastries, that coffee, fresh mozarella and prosciutto pannini for 2.50... Tomorrow, it's onto a plane and back to reality.
We've seen quite a bit of art in the last two days. I know very, very little about art, so I can rarely look upon it with an educated eye, but I do love the feelings it evokes in me (sometimes).
Yesterday, we visited the museum at Il Duomo. The quote of the day came from Sara who, when I marveled at the fact that there are so many 13th and 14th century busts and statues just out in the open, where everyone can touch them, retorted, "Bah. Those things are a dime a dozen here." Oh, how quickly we become spoiled by the multitude of centuries-old art around us!
Today, we went to the Uffizi and a couple science museums (which were awesome, but science isn't the subject of this posting). The art at the Uffizi is astounding, and one of my favorite artists has numerous paintings there. Botticelli was alive in the late 15th and early 16th century, and I have always loved his paintings. I don't know exactly why, and I certainly cannot put it into words (because, as I admitted, I know little of art), but I do know that I want to climb into those paintings. In the absence of being able to do that, I can say that Botticelli is one of the few artists who inspires me to sit and just stare. Perhaps forever.
I don't think I had ever put my finger on it, but I realize now that it's the softness , the roundness with which he paints women. The muscled bodies of women in other paintings (heck, one in the Vatican was modeled after a man) are just not nearly as appealing. Or, perhaps it reminds me of my dad telling me as a teenager that I was "bella grossa," and not fat, or how all of my Italian relatives always fed us to show how much they loved us. Whatever the reason, those beautiful, soft women make me want to have coffee with them, and ask them whether they have any issues with their mothers-in-law, or if they have a really great recipe for chicken cacciatore. And then, standing there, Sara once again put words to it. She stared at a lovely Botticelli and said, "I like his ladies..." Yep, Sara, I like his ladies, too.
The kids went to two more museums after lunch, but I wandered back towards the apartment. On the way, I made a side trip back through the piazza near Santa Croce and found a gift for a girlfriend back home that was perfect. Sometimes, the "aw heck, why go straight home?" moves are the best. Home for lunch (which included prosciutto, of course - how will I live without having prosciutto every day after I get home?), then some time to sit out in the back garden, read a book, and watch the storm clouds gather. By the time the lightning was flashing and the thunder booming, the kids came home and walked into the garden with a cup of gelato for me. Then, a nap.
I could so get used to this....
Well, perhaps I should say adventures getting to and from Siena...
We got up a bit early yesterday and caught the bus to Siena. It's only about 70 minutes away, and the bus was a double-decker (enclosed), so I trotted up to the top level because hey, I wanted to see it all! The bus wound through the streets of Florence, then into the Tuscan countryside and through vineyards and trees. So serene, so beautiful...but a bit of a winding road and I didn't even realize that, to varying degrees, everyone was getting a bit queasy except for two of us (Alec and me).
About 5 minutes from our destination, I noticed Andreas (Carina's son) getting really, really quiet....and then... Poor Andreas. Luckily, we were almost there, and when we got off the bus, Carina had to buy new clothes fo Andreas and for Per (who was sitting next to him). While she shopped for the boys, Alec and Zeph and I had a slice of pizza. Yum.
Siena is a small, sleepy little town in the hills that is consistently about 10 degrees cooler than Florence in the summer and boasts a really cool little town square, churches (go figure), some really hilly streets, and twice a year the Palio. The palio is a horse race that pits neighborhood against neighborhood (each of which has a flag with a different animal on it) for bragging rights. The race takes place around the town square, with people standing around the edges, hanging out of windows, and watching from restaurant balconies, cheering on their homies. We weren't there on a palio day, which was just fine for us.
I have to put a plug in here for Rick Steves. That man's books have given us some really good tips, for places to eat, things to do, and time allotments for certain attractions. Of course, it would still be nothing without Sara, tha amazing tour guide and Rick Steves apprentice.
We saw a church (of course) but this one had a twist. As apparently is common here, the church was completely buried in a flood some centuries ago, and the resulting dirt that filled the church preserved it wonderfully. A new church was built, and it was only in recent times that the old "underneath" church was discovered. The wall frescos were preserved, and now are being slowly uncovered for all to see. There is just nothing like this in the states, especially in the west, and I still find it completely fascinating.
So, a trip to some hole-in-the-wall restaurant that boasts a menu with 50 different types of sandwiches (and the most awesome neon-lit bathroom that even had neon lights IN the toilet bowl, making the water an irridescent green), and a little stroll around the piazza, then back to the bus. Confident that the bus ride back would be less eventful (since we would sit on the bottom deck AND had equipped ourselves with multiple plastic bags just in case), we trotted onto the bus. Ten minutes into the ride, the bus stopped and we were told to disembark, and we then got onto another bus (apparently, ours was broken). This would have been less uncomfortable if it wasn't in the middle of a drenching thunderstorm. So, a little damp, we settled into bus number two. Five minutes later, the driver pulled over to wipe the inside of the windshield because the defroster was apparently not working. After two more such stops, he pulled over under an overpass and got on his phone. Sara said, "Wo, that was the most angry 'pronto' I have heard..." as he got in touch with the bus depot and then yelled for a few minutes and hung up. We sta for about twenty inutes, and then bus number THREE showed up. More musical buses, and then luckily an uneventful trip the rest of the way back to Florence.
Sara went into the bus station (bless her heart) to see if we could get a refund, but apparently the policy only allows for a refund for missing a scheduled arrival by an hour or more, and we were only 50 minutes late. Ah well, no worries. We were home, and stopped for doner kebob on the way back to the apartment. Life is good.
Another evening of cracking up and catching up with Carina's family, and now here it is Tuesday morning. My three kids are cooking American breakfast for our Swedish guests before they go home to Sweden this afternoon, and then we might go to a museum this afternoon. It's really up to Tour Guide Sara. I love, love, love not being in charge. LOVE it.
I am still plotting how I could come live here for a few months, maybe a few years from now. Life's short.
But I would need air conditioning and mosquito netting...
What the heck day is it again? Oh yes, Sunday.
Yesterday, Sara and Zeph and Alec went to Cinque Terre and so Carina and her family and I slept in, and then walked across the river and up to the Piazzale Michelangelo, where there are amazing views of all of Florence. Then we walked up, up, up even higher to the church of San Miniato. I am still astounded every time I walk into a church here, to see paintings on the walls that are clearly centuries old. It was a warm day and a good walk. Then, we went back across the river at Ponte Vecchio. That was a MOB scene!! I think the fact that it was the weekend probably added to the crowds. The kids had gelato, so they were happy. Not much else to tell. Oh wait, maybe there is. On the way back, since I had my backpack with me, I stopped in to my new favorite leather store to see my new favorite Italian, Stefano. I ended up buying the laptop bag that I have been coveting, so now I have my cool Italian leather bag to take home with me. (And, my wallet is significantly lighter).
After the kids got back, we all spent some time with Emma's homework and got an hilarious lesson in Swedish. My apologies to everyone Swedish who has ever lived, because I think we found new ways to mispronounce every word. However, it created multiple opportunities for raucous laughter.
Today (Sunday), I got up early enough to get respectably dressed and go to Mass. Since there is a church about every two and a half blocks, I didn't ahve far to walk. I sat in the back of the church, and actually understood some of the sermon. I took it as a Sunday miracle.
I do have one thing to say about the Catholic church, and I don't think it's specific to any continent: the few times I have been inside a church in recent years, the average age of the people there is pretty dang high. Today, I think I may have been the youngest person there. It's absolutely none of my business, because I am not a practicing Catholic, but they need to figure out how to bring younger people back into the fold, or in abut fifteen years there are going to be a whole lot of empty churches on a whole lot of Sundays. (And even though I am not a practicing Catholic, something about the ritual of knowing what to say and when, when to stand or sit or kneel, even when everyone there is speaking a foreign language, makes me calmer. Perhaps I should go more than once a year...)
Came home, ate amazing pastries for breakfast, and then we all (well, except Sara and Zeph, who decided to have a little day to themselves in Lucca) went to the da Vinci Museum. This place is very small, but it has prototypes od all kinds of daVinci inventions, and many of them are hands-on. It's set up very well, with a dosplay for each invention that has a replica of the original drawing, and then an explanation (in five languages!) of what the machine was meant to do, etc. There was also a room with da Vinci's art (well, reproductions) and stories around each piece. This guy was amazing.
Quote of the day from Emma (age 8), Carina's daughter. "I am sad. He was really smart, and it's too bad he is dead." Well put, Emma. If Leonardo were alive today, his head would probably explode with ideas.
And the end of the day?? Swedish pancake happiness. Per made them for all of us, and we had pancakes, jam, and ice cream for dinner. Now, we are all sitting around the table drinking, which is a very nice Sunday evening activity, while the two little ones are playing in the garden with the tortoise.
Life is good, indeed.
Ciao!
Giannina
I haven't blogged in a couple days, so I am going to play catch-up.
Thursday, the kids and I went to Rome. The day began at 4:30 am, since we had to be out of the apartment at 5:00 am to catch the train. Walking through the streets at 5:00 was the quietest I have seen things since we got here. I have to admit that I slept much of the train ride to Rome, and then the whirlwind tour began.
Sara had arranged (thanks, Sara! you are truly the best travel agent/fun arranger/tour goddess ever!) for an all-day walking tour to cover the things we thought were "must see" and walk and see we surely did! We started at the Colosseum, took in Palatine Hill, the forum, the Pantheon and points between in the morning.
I think the most impressive of the morning sights was the Pantheon. The domed roof really does defy gravity, as far as imagining how they ever contructed it. And, since it raned, thundered, and hailed on our way there, we were abole to witness firsthand the efficiency of the drainage system in the floor. The domed roof, you see, has an enormous hole in the center to let light in. But then, when it rains, it also lets rain in. So, drain holes were cut into the marble floors to deal with the water. Having stepped from outside, where rain was puddling up and street drains were already backing up, into this amazing place where there was already almost no water on the floor at all, it was clear that the engineering of this place was brilliant.
Another interesting tidbit of information: there are water drinking fountains all over Rome, and all of the water is potable. It has a high lime concentrate, because they use limestone to naturally purify their water (and have for millenia), so you may get kidney stones if you drink it for years, but it is drinkable and really good. Take one water bottle with you, and fill it up wherever you like. Water ain't cheap here in bottles, so it was good to take advantage of the free stuff.
After a quick lunch (in a really cool little restaurant that had a turntable playing music, which we have seen more than once here, and also had a huge poster of a naked woman right over our table, which I think made the boys happy), we met up with the afternoon portion of the tour.
The afternoon had us in the Vatican Museum, the Sistine Chapel, and St Peter's Basilica. The Sistine chapel allows no photography nor talking (clearly an effort for me) but St. Peter's allows photography, with flash. Hmmm, that's odd. All of the museumes say no flash photography, in order to preserve the paintings. The guide asked me to zoom in on one of the paintings and tell him what I saw. And there was the best part of my afternoon. Ever single painting in St. Peter's in not a painting at all; they are ALL mosaics done by Venetians. Holy cannoli! The Sistine Chapel was astounding, thinking of Michelangelo doing all of that ceiling painting, but then thinking of men painstakingly creating the ceiling art in St, Peter's, tile by tile, in pieces so small the they actually appeared to BE paintings? The totally won the amazement prize for me.
So, tours over, we had dinner, then waiting for our train and it was back to Florence (more sleeping on the train). We got home around 11 pm. Loooong day, but packed with amazing stuff. I think I could probably spend a month in Rome (or perhaps a year?) Our morning tour guide told us that she came to Rome for a five-day visit, four years ago. So, I'm not the only person to ever threaten to not go home...
On to Friday, then....
Friday morning was a wander-around close, not do much morning, and then Sara and I strolled over to the Santa Croce leather market to check out the shops. There were tons of little kids in the piazza, and Sara and I talked about the fact that epople don't seem to WORRY so much about their kids here. They are allowed to ru around and be children! There aren't two parents on top of every child making sure that they are only a foot away, in case the kid gets kidnapped, or falls down, or needs his nose wiped. It's lovely. (And I told Sara that I still here crap from some people when I tell them that I let Alec go to the park near our home by himself when he was 8 or 9, but those are the same parents who drove their kids two blocks to middle school at the age of 13). Yes, I know we are responsible for our kids' safety, but jeesh, at some point they have to be individuals. OK, 'nuff said.
Best compliment of the day: A middle-aged man named Stefano in a shop wanted to sell me a laptop bag (and I may well go back and get it for myself). He asked me where I was from, i said California, he asked if I was staying close, I said yes, on Ciompi. He said, "Oh, you're from the US but you are Italian?" so I guess that even though I can't speak Italian, my pronunciation is decent. (And yeah, listening to the tourists, especially the Brits for some reason, trying to pronouce Italian makes my teeth grind).
So, Sara and I wander home, walk in the door, and our guests have arrived!!! Carina was my kids' au pair for a year when we first moved to Roseville in 1989, but just as importantly, she was my first friend in Roseville and we have remained in touch for 24 years. I stayed with her and her family when I went to Sweden in 2008, and now she and her husband, Per, and chilren Andreas (11) and Emma (8) have come to stay with us here in Florence for a few days. She hasn't seen the kids for about 20 years, since she made a quick second visit to the states, so we had lunch, walked around, got some groceries, and then just made dinner and visited.
I know I shouldn't be quite so excited about food, but this also means that we get Swedish pancakes for dinner tomorrow night!! :-)
And now? It is Saturday morning, I sit at the huge dining table blogging, I can hear Carina and her family getting up in the next room. My kids have gone off ona day trip to Cinque Terre, and today will be mostly a relaxing, walk around and do not a lot of things day.
I may well go back and get that laptop bag, though. It was beautiful.
Happy weekend, my friends!!
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