Florence... 19/06/2011 - 22/06/2011
It cost 20 Euro's more take the Eurostar then it does to take your good old intercity version... so naturally I went for the cheaper option. The girl I was travelling with convinced me to buy a first class ticket, it was only like 4 more Euro, but I can't really say it was worth it. I mean we got to a certain point in the journey and I'm pretty sure just any old riff raff were jumping onto our carriage. I think I would have rather sat in steerage and got myself a coffee for the journey... because I just can't get enough of the Italian coffee.
Oh decent coffee, how I have missed you. England does not even know you exist and I was fearing I would never see you again. (I totally have the whole Italian, downing an expresso at the bar thing down like a boss).
4 hours traveling through the beautiful Italian countryside and I made it to my next destination, Florence.
Checked into my hotel, which is on the 4th floor... that's a lot of stairs. I wasn't sure it was the right place so I left my bag at the bottom and ran up the stairs to check. It's the right place, I managed to get that much past the sound of my heart beating and my lungs screaming for air. Unfortunately then I had to go back down and get my bag.
After I had recovered myself from the stairs, it took about an hour, we set out to discover the city. And what a city we found...
I'll admit it, I am in love with Florence and it was love at first sight. It's so beautiful here, sure it's still full of tourists but there are not as many as in Rome and the people here just seem a lot more laid back about the process. No one's rushing around, going from attraction to attraction as fast as they can; the city is the attraction. All that stuff I said about Rome being a romantic city still holds true, but that was before I had seen Florence. I don't want to just come here for my honeymoon, I want to live here. I want to have my way with this city, then stick around and bear it's many illegitimate children.
I was talking, in my last blog, about how much I hate romance (in the practical sense, still can't get enough of the fictional stuff) and the fact that I am pretty sure I'm just not built for relationships. I still don't want one, and I'm not gonna run out and do the whole marriage and babies thing any time soon but if I spent enough time in Florence I might be willing to change my mind... pretty quickly.
I spent the evening wandering through the beautiful streets; I wasn't even looking for the Jersey Shore crew at all, I swear. (No sighting by the way – it appears Florence has hidden them from sight).
Under the Tuscan Sun... Day Two.
Went on a day tour into the Tuscan country side, saw Sienna, had a lovely lunch and too much wine and I don't really remember that much else. Really they shouldn't put the bottles on the table if they don't want us to drink them all, and if other people on my tables had drank their share it would not have been a problem... I don't care that some of them are children, the parents should have picked up the slack. I can't help it, my mother always taught me waste not want not so when I saw all those half finished bottles of wine just sitting there on the table what was I supposed to do.
I sobered up enough to take a million and one photos of me in front of the leaning tower of Pisa. It's was quite amazing really, I was going to go up but after a heavy afternoon of drinking I thought it was probably best to stay at ground level. I attempted to get the obligatory photo of me holding up the tower but I am really hopeless at those kinds of photos and I can never manage to get myself in the right position.
I wasn't really keen for another tour, I am so over the whole touristing thing, but I am glad I did this. The Tuscan countryside is really beautiful and I shall not be happy until I return there, perhaps I will write a book about Florence and then someone will pay me to live there. You never know anything could happen. But to be honest I would be happy to be paid to write anything, I'd try my hand a recipe writing if I might earn some money – I would not recommend eating anything that I make up, it could kill you. Don't laugh, it's the truth.
Hahaha there is nothing like a change of scenery to get the imagination flowing. Except when you're me and somehow seeing the most amazing places in the world gives you writers block. It's hard being me some times...By the time we arrived home it was 9pm at night, I was still super full from lunch (not to mention the wine) so no dinner. Just enough room from some Gelati tho, got it from a place called Grom, in a side street off from the Duoma. It was packed full of locals but if there is one thing that I can do in Italian it's order Gelati so no trouble there. Ate it as I wandered the streets, taking the long way back to the hotel. Despite the long day, I manned up and took the 4 flights of stairs up to the room and I felt the better for it. Actually I felt like shit, not only was I starting to feel hunger over but now I was out of breath, but I will just tell myself that I felt better because otherwise I will never do it again.
Waiting to see Davids bottom and other tales from Day Three.
In the line to the Uzeffi, and what a line it is; this line should win some kind of line competition. I think I am starting to get delusional because I have been waiting here for 2 hours now and I didn't have any breakfast. Probably should have planned ahead and got a tour or something, but this is all part of the experience.
I'm actually having an amusing time watching a group of high schoolers pass the time in front of me. I'm guessing they are about 14, but I am hopeless at guessing ages, their still young that's all I know. There are a bunch of girls just fawning over this one guy, he's loving the attention of course, but I have a feeling he's not really interested in any of them. Why is that you say, well he's wearing well shinned spats and a white fedora, at one point one of the girls tried to take his hat and he gave her the look of death but I mean really she should know better then to mess with that ensemble. Either I have lost my touch or that boy is a capitol G Gay. My suspicions are confirmed when as soon as any of the boys started paying him attention he had no more time for any of his fangirls. They were left staring longingly, hoping for any kind of recognition. Move on girls, there's a reason he's never tried to touch your boobs, and it's not that he's a gentleman.
So I finally made it into the Gallery and it was pretty epic, I have said before that I am not really the hugest fan of Renaissance art so it wasn't all that excited by it. I do love Botticelli though, he certainly knows the pretty ladies, so I looked at them for quite a while. I don't know what else I can say that would not be better coming from some kind of guide book. I will say that I was so hungry by the time I got in there that I had to splurge and by myself something to eat from the restaurant inside.
It was pretty late by the time we left so we just wandered around for a bit, slowly making our way over to the Academia which led us to another line, or queue as they would say in England (doesn't it sound much nicer that way. The line was a lot shorter this time – it only took us about 15 minutes to get to the front. Unfortunately we were at the front of the line for like an hour. Stupid mean guard man not letting us in, it was ok tho, managed to get a bit more of a tan.When we made it inside didn't stay that long, more renaissance art, whatever. Let's just get this clear. I came to see David, and David I saw. He is a lot bigger then I expected him to be, but then everyone always says that, and no one ever believes them. He's beautiful, I mean really, I'm not great at expressing my feelings about art – I can talk about film, TV and books until I run out of air but art usually leaves me speechless. Maybe it's because I am not an artist, as much as I might try I'm really not, I did not get that gene... thanks mum. But I do know what I like and I liked David. Also he has a really nice ass, I just sat behind him admiring it for a good while, it was worth the 10 Euro just to see that. I wish I could have touched it though; my god someone control my hormones.
After all that waiting in line I was in need of a siesta, so we headed back to the hotel – with a quick stop off at Grom for some Gelati – and had a nap for a couple of hours.
Then we walked half way across the city in search of a restaurant the receptionist from the hotel had recommended. It was well worth it, one of the best meals I had during my whole holiday. Just pasta and wine, but that was what I wanted. Can't remember the name of the place though, I should have written it down but for once I didn't have my note book, it didn't fit in my bag with all the maps and such. When I go back to Florence I shall endeavour to find it again, but I'm guessing it will probably be lost in the obscurity of my memory forever. I was in such a good mood after this meal that I even stopped outside the cathedral to offer to take a photo of a couple that were attempting to get themselves and the church into a selfie. I didn't cower away from the romantic associations I embraced them. I may be on my way to achieved some kind of self-actualisation Princess Mia style.
I don't want to go... Day Four.
At Santa Maria Novella station, got here way to early for my train of course. I can't abide arriving at the right time, I'm either early or late... and in situations such as these I think it's best to go for the early option. Quite amusing watching and elderly Spanish couple try to negotiate the automatic ticket machines (they gave up and went to the ticket office eventually). Now I'm sitting in the crappy self service restaurant at the station, rocking out to Hughy Lewis and the News, which apparently crosses all kinds of cultural and lingual boundaries. I'm trying to understand what the French couple next to me are arguing about... it's something to do with the time. They appear to have taken a leaf from my book and arrived either too early or too late, I can't work out which, all I know is that apparently it's all his fault.
While I don't want to leave this fantastic city – there is so much yet to discover - I am excited to move on the Venice, and even more excited to be heading back to England (it really is my home). Payed the extra and got the Eurostar today – mainly because the regional trains seemed way too complicated.
I shall tell you how I find the winding canals of Venice in my next blog.
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