Florence is lovely, as all the places I’ve visited have been. Behind the pervasive scent of urine that all European cities have Florence is something special. It’s not the sparkling designer store fronts or the vein-like pattern of the little streets but rather the the art history that feels present in every moment of this pulsing city that make it feel alive and unique.
The trip from Rome to the central train station was smooth, and my hostel is a 5 minute walk away, even with a quick stop for some delicious gelato, a necessary pause in the afternoon of every visitor to this city. I spent a little bit of the afternoon walking around near my hostel and ended up by the Duomo. It was a beautiful introduction to the city, just happening on this gorgeous chess board skinned building, and I felt very lucky to have stumbled on it.
I decided to spend my first full day in the city completely devoted to its art. I planned on going to the Uffizi Gallery and the Bargello Museum, which doesn’t sound like a packed schedule, but I was confident I would have plenty to do. I started at the Bargello, it has a more modest collection, and I had pre-booked more Uffizi ticket for the afternoon. (A process I highly recommend, 4 euros made the difference between an hour to an hour and a half wait and 5 minutes in line) The Bargello is a really nice little museum, full of sculpture and some religious artifacts. I took my sketchbook and spent the morning sketching masterworks indoors and out. It was wonderful.
The Uffizi was my entire afternoon. It felt as overwhelming as The Louvre, even though it is much smaller in scale, but I didn’t get the feeling it was any smaller in ambition. I walked in with the intention of moving slowly and purposefully through the galleries thinking, writing, and sketching as I went. I was very quickly overpowered by the weight of what I was experiencing, the generations of craftsmen and artists whose only surviving memory was the work I was walking by. My eyes glazed over quickly, and while I kept moving through the museum at my own slow pace and thinking, my mind was inside and outside of the art at the same time. It was a very odd experience. I was still kind of groggy as I headed out, so I got a little lost on my way back to the hostel, but I found my way, as I always have over the past few weeks.
On my way back in I stopped by the front desk to ask for directions to the nearest grocery store. After a quick rest and a change of shoes I headed back out to pick up some essentials for the next couple of days.
Day two in Florence was just as nice as days .5 and 1. I walked to the Boboli gardens, the gardens behind the Palazzo Pitti, which I didn’t visit, but I did spend plenty of time in its garden. The grumpy lady at the entrance didn’t accept my student I.D. as proof that I was under 18, she seemed very suspicious all around, but I handed her my passport and she begrudgingly let me in for free. This green space is absolutely amazing, full of little secret passageways and fountains and spectacular views. I spent several hours just wandering around and occasionally resting on the plentiful shaded benches, taking in the gorgeous Italian weather, hot sun with just a hint of a cooling breeze. A+ from me.
I also took this time to explore the neighborhood on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio, that famous Florentine bridge covered in gold smith’s shops. There were many fewer people over here, which was splendid, and I got the chance to hear some Italian being spoken again, which was really nice.
On my way back to the hostel I walked by the Accademia, where the David is housed, but the line was prohibitively long so I didn’t pop in. I will attempt another visit in the next couple of days.
One thing I haven’t mentioned in the blog is the constant military presence I’ve seen so far. In every major city I’ve visited there have been armed soldiers in train stations and places where large numbers of people gather. Their presence has never made me feel more or less safe, but seeing the uniforms, rigid postures, and large weapons is certainty striking, and a reminder that these nations feel very threatened.