Florence
Leslie and I arrived in Florence late in the afternoon on Friday, February 27. That evening we went out to dinner at a small trattoria recommended by the manager of our hostel, then went to a few bars. We managed to find the bar where all the exchange students hang out in Florence. It was called the Shot Cafe, and they were having specials on Long Islands; we had a lot of fun there.
The Next morning we went to the Piazza del Duomo, the square where Florence's most famous church is located. It's proper name is Santa Maria del Fiore (Holy Mary of the Flower), but most everyone simply refers to it as the Duomo because of its giant dome. The outside of the church is beautiful; it's facade is covered by different colored marble set out in an intricate design. The inside was rather bare compared with many of the cathedrals we saw on our trip, but that's because all the artwork which once decorated the walls had been removed. It's now on display in a museum located in the same square, the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo. There is still an extremely nice painting covering the inside of the dome, though.
After seeing the church we went to the train station. I planned on going to Pisa that afternoon and had to look up train times, and Leslie had to catch a train back to Lyon. Originally we'd planned on traveling back on Sunday, but we'd factored in one too many days, and our Eurail passes actually expired on Saturday. If Leslie had wanted to stay another day, she'd have had to pay a lot more money for extra train tickets. Luckily enough for me, the woman who wrote in the dates on my Eurail pass in the Lyon train station messed up and accidentally gave me three extra days. I stayed in Florence until Sunday, as originally planned.
After the train station I walked around town by myself for a couple of hours, waiting for my train to Pisa. I saw the outside of the monastery Santa Maria Novella, which actually stands right across the street from the station. We'd seen it when we arrived the day before, and I had thought it impressive enough then. What I didn't realize was that I was only seeing the back of the building. The facade of the building is even prettier; it's covered in colored marble much like the Duomo, although it's a much smaller church. I also walked to the Piazza Della Signoria. The Palazzo Vecchio, which used to house government offices of Florence, is located in this square. Piazza Della Signoria is also known for the many sculptures on display there in the open air. Michelangelo's David once stood there; now there's a model in it's place. From the square I walked to the River Arno and the Ponte Vecchio, Florence's most famous bridge. It's lined on either side with shops selling mainly expensive gold jewelry.
That afternoon I took a train to Pisa. Pisa is very close to Florence, and the train ride only took about an hour. When I arrived, I made the trek across town on foot to see the leaning tower. It really, really leans. I know this sounds like a ridiculous statement, but truly, I was shocked when I saw it. Pictures don't do it justice. My pictures certainly don't do it justice. I managed to get some silly photos of me in which it kind of looks like I'm holding up the tower, courtesy of some other random tourists. I wanted to go to the top, but you had to go with a tour, and I didn't have enough time to wait for the next one. So, I walked back across town to the train station and headed back to Florence.
Taking the train from Florence to Pisa and back was a lovely experience in and of itself. I loved looking at all the varying examples of Tuscan architecture and the snow-capped mountains far off in the distance out of the window. I found the buildings in Northern Italy to be much like those in Southern Italy, but they were a different color. In Southern Italy I saw a lot of soft pastels, but in Tuscany the colors were all very deep. Buildings there were painted in oranges, strong yellows, dark peachy-pinks, and forest green. You can tell the colors were once quite vibrant, but they've faded so that now everything looks sun-baked, even on cloudy winter days.
The next day I went to the Galleria Accademia to see Michelangelo's David. Then I went in the Duomo museum to see one of his Pietas. Michelangelo actually sculpted three Pietas; I'd seen one four years ago in St. Peter's in Rome; one used to stand in the Duomo in Florence, and the final one is in Milan. I wanted to go to the Uffizi Gallery, an enormous art museum, but the line was enormous, and I didn't have enough time before my train. Instead I crossed the river to see the Palazzo Pitti, the former palace of the Medicis
Florence was a gorgeous city, filled with massive churches and imposing palazzos. Often the palazzos stand flanked by modern buildings on either side. You see them as you walk down the street, and you only know you're looking at something of interest because their constructed of ancient, enormous bricks. It's kind of a shame I couldn't stay longer there, because I feel that there was a lot there I didn't get to see. It was the very end of our vacation, though, and quite frankly I was a little tired and a little museum-ed out.
There are a couple rather interesting things worth mentioning. One is that in Florence I saw a random keyhole in the middle of a wall. There was absolutely no sign of anything that might have been a door frame; there wasn't so much as a crack in the wall. It makes you wonder what used to be there. The second comment is about Italy in general; they're very, very against the war in Iraq there. People have rainbow flags proclaiming "Pace" ("Peace") hanging from the windows and balconies of their homes, and volunteers stand out in the street asking for passers-by to sign petitions to end the violence. I saw quite a few "Yankee, Go Home!"-s as well as several not so nice comments about our president spray painted on walls of buildings. It was a strange experience; as much as Bush and the war are despised here in France, there's no active movement to end the war and no anti-American sentiment displayed so blatantly in public. I guess the French are more concerned about the fact that they'll soon have to work more than 35 hours a week, who knows?
So, anyhow, I took my trains back to Lyon on Sunday, February 27. They were all very nice, and I actually made a few friends along the way. (Not friends I would keep in touch with, mind you, but it was still an uncommon experience. I usually avoid talking to strangers while traveling at all costs. Maybe I was just lonely after having spent two weeks with constant companionship, and then having no one to talk to for 24 hours.)
The Next morning we went to the Piazza del Duomo, the square where Florence's most famous church is located. It's proper name is Santa Maria del Fiore (Holy Mary of the Flower), but most everyone simply refers to it as the Duomo because of its giant dome. The outside of the church is beautiful; it's facade is covered by different colored marble set out in an intricate design. The inside was rather bare compared with many of the cathedrals we saw on our trip, but that's because all the artwork which once decorated the walls had been removed. It's now on display in a museum located in the same square, the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo. There is still an extremely nice painting covering the inside of the dome, though.
After seeing the church we went to the train station. I planned on going to Pisa that afternoon and had to look up train times, and Leslie had to catch a train back to Lyon. Originally we'd planned on traveling back on Sunday, but we'd factored in one too many days, and our Eurail passes actually expired on Saturday. If Leslie had wanted to stay another day, she'd have had to pay a lot more money for extra train tickets. Luckily enough for me, the woman who wrote in the dates on my Eurail pass in the Lyon train station messed up and accidentally gave me three extra days. I stayed in Florence until Sunday, as originally planned.
After the train station I walked around town by myself for a couple of hours, waiting for my train to Pisa. I saw the outside of the monastery Santa Maria Novella, which actually stands right across the street from the station. We'd seen it when we arrived the day before, and I had thought it impressive enough then. What I didn't realize was that I was only seeing the back of the building. The facade of the building is even prettier; it's covered in colored marble much like the Duomo, although it's a much smaller church. I also walked to the Piazza Della Signoria. The Palazzo Vecchio, which used to house government offices of Florence, is located in this square. Piazza Della Signoria is also known for the many sculptures on display there in the open air. Michelangelo's David once stood there; now there's a model in it's place. From the square I walked to the River Arno and the Ponte Vecchio, Florence's most famous bridge. It's lined on either side with shops selling mainly expensive gold jewelry.
That afternoon I took a train to Pisa. Pisa is very close to Florence, and the train ride only took about an hour. When I arrived, I made the trek across town on foot to see the leaning tower. It really, really leans. I know this sounds like a ridiculous statement, but truly, I was shocked when I saw it. Pictures don't do it justice. My pictures certainly don't do it justice. I managed to get some silly photos of me in which it kind of looks like I'm holding up the tower, courtesy of some other random tourists. I wanted to go to the top, but you had to go with a tour, and I didn't have enough time to wait for the next one. So, I walked back across town to the train station and headed back to Florence.
Taking the train from Florence to Pisa and back was a lovely experience in and of itself. I loved looking at all the varying examples of Tuscan architecture and the snow-capped mountains far off in the distance out of the window. I found the buildings in Northern Italy to be much like those in Southern Italy, but they were a different color. In Southern Italy I saw a lot of soft pastels, but in Tuscany the colors were all very deep. Buildings there were painted in oranges, strong yellows, dark peachy-pinks, and forest green. You can tell the colors were once quite vibrant, but they've faded so that now everything looks sun-baked, even on cloudy winter days.
The next day I went to the Galleria Accademia to see Michelangelo's David. Then I went in the Duomo museum to see one of his Pietas. Michelangelo actually sculpted three Pietas; I'd seen one four years ago in St. Peter's in Rome; one used to stand in the Duomo in Florence, and the final one is in Milan. I wanted to go to the Uffizi Gallery, an enormous art museum, but the line was enormous, and I didn't have enough time before my train. Instead I crossed the river to see the Palazzo Pitti, the former palace of the Medicis
Florence was a gorgeous city, filled with massive churches and imposing palazzos. Often the palazzos stand flanked by modern buildings on either side. You see them as you walk down the street, and you only know you're looking at something of interest because their constructed of ancient, enormous bricks. It's kind of a shame I couldn't stay longer there, because I feel that there was a lot there I didn't get to see. It was the very end of our vacation, though, and quite frankly I was a little tired and a little museum-ed out.
There are a couple rather interesting things worth mentioning. One is that in Florence I saw a random keyhole in the middle of a wall. There was absolutely no sign of anything that might have been a door frame; there wasn't so much as a crack in the wall. It makes you wonder what used to be there. The second comment is about Italy in general; they're very, very against the war in Iraq there. People have rainbow flags proclaiming "Pace" ("Peace") hanging from the windows and balconies of their homes, and volunteers stand out in the street asking for passers-by to sign petitions to end the violence. I saw quite a few "Yankee, Go Home!"-s as well as several not so nice comments about our president spray painted on walls of buildings. It was a strange experience; as much as Bush and the war are despised here in France, there's no active movement to end the war and no anti-American sentiment displayed so blatantly in public. I guess the French are more concerned about the fact that they'll soon have to work more than 35 hours a week, who knows?
So, anyhow, I took my trains back to Lyon on Sunday, February 27. They were all very nice, and I actually made a few friends along the way. (Not friends I would keep in touch with, mind you, but it was still an uncommon experience. I usually avoid talking to strangers while traveling at all costs. Maybe I was just lonely after having spent two weeks with constant companionship, and then having no one to talk to for 24 hours.)