In Florence, we checked in and headed to the duomo where we ascended the 400+ steps for a breezy view of the city.
We then ambled toward the Ponte Vecchio, stopping for dinner along the way (ossobuco, risotto, and very good d’asti).
Before we reached the river we picked up gelato and ate it as we ascended the steps to the Michelangelo’s David replica in the high plaza overlooking the city.
We stayed with David (and hundreds of other folks) to watch a cloudy sunset.
On Wednesday morning we had booked a truffle hunting tour, but it was outside a tiny city half an hour away called San Miniato that required euros for payment. We went to five banks, including the one recommended by our hotel, for money exchanging and were denied by all of them. Eventually, we figured out we could go to the post office. After learning how to take a number (the machine is not in English). we watched the minutes tick by, edging closer to our train time to the tour.
We got our cash after 15 minutes and ran to the train station only to see long lines everywhere.
When we finally got to the Italo ticket machine we couldn’t find our destination in the options and started freaking out. A young Italian woman came over and translated for us, even cutting in front of others to validate our tickets before pointing us to the right gate. It was a good thing she came along as our train was leaving in one minute!
Or not. Outside on the platform, we found the train with doors locked and other travelers waiting. The screens eventually noted a 25 minute delay and kept climbing. Other tourists said it was likely a strike.
After more than half an hour the train was finally canceled and Sams dreams of hunting truffles in Tuscany were dashed. Instead, we walked back down to the baptistery of st. John, ate pizza and gelato and wandered aimlessly around Florence.
In the early afternoon, we were exhausted from a late night yesterday and stressful morning. We sat down on a store window ledge in an alley a block south of the Ponte Vecchio. I believe it was on Borgo S. Jacopo near the Roberta Firenze store.
Sam was doubled over in a lower backstretch, but I pulled her up because I thought I saw Giada De Laurentiis walk by us with what must have been family. We trailed them to a nearby pizza place trying to determine how accurate my memory was. She was literally running and after she ducked into the pizza parlor we decided not to stalk her any longer. I posted something about it on facebook and a friend who follows her noted that she posted about “being in Italy with family” the night before. The picture featured the same people we saw following her down the alley. Half an hour later that same friend told me that Giada posted on facebook again about “delivering pizza.”
(Note: at the time of this original blog post a public photo on Giada’s social media confirmed all this – but it’s since been blocked or taken down
Never thought we’d have a celebrity sighting in Florence. But the excitement wasn’t finished. As we strolled along the river close to the Ponte Vecchio we found police activity and news reporters.
Turns out a sinkhole had opened up and swallowed a bunch of cars over there. This made anecdotal headline news across the world, but we got to sit there and watch police and media and cranes and lots of agitated Italians arrive and do….something…behind the river wall.
After that we took it easy, shopping for watches and purses in the fashion district before taking a break back at the hotel.
After making sure to have steak florentine for dinner (which is surprisingly close to steak “Ohio grill” style) we decided to wander aimlessly to burn off the calories. Well, not quite aimlessly, we struck out eastward since none of our planned activities had been in that direction.
On our way to nowhere in particular we wound up in a funky artist corner and then happened upon Mago Merlino Tea House. While looking through the dark window at the vaguely medieval/Indian interior the proprietor came and unlocked the door, ushering us inside. He showed us a hippy room at the back with carpeting and rugs everywhere that has a strict no-shoes policy and has remained largely unchanged since the 70s.
We thanked him and turned back toward our hotel. We reached San Lorenzo Market after all the vendors had packed up. With all the tents gone we could see the signs for the Florence Central Market, a bigger and better version of the central market in downtown Los Angeles. We walked around and decided to have our last meal in Florence there the next day.
On that last half-day in Florence, we walked to the cathedral of Santa Maria’s dome.
The line took 90 minutes to wait through, then it was another 30 minutes of starting and stopping inside, climbing the tight old stone steps. Part of the walk included striding along the painted visions of hell at the lower part of the cupola.
Eventually steep stairs wound up and over the dome to the small circular viewpoint at the top. The viewing area was very crowded and coming back down still took 20 minutes, mostly because of waiting at the top on people who didn’t realize the stream of people coming up the stairs was never going to break.
We had just enough time to eat a fine lunch (truffle pasta) at the central market before grabbing our bags and taking our high-speed train to Rome.
