Italian Dispatch #4

Wednesday: Tours = Lame

Today we decided that we needed to hit all the spots in Florence that our tour book told us were ‘must sees’. That meant even more walking as well as the need to pack some snacks since sitting down for a meal was just not going to be possible, at least until dinnertime. Our day started off with reservations as the Accademia, where David is housed along with several other unfinished chunks of marble blessed with the chisel marks of Michelangelo. I visited the museum when I was there last and, though it’s expensive and small, I think it’s worth it. Seeing David is something you should do, if only to gawk in amazement for a few moments. In a word, it is perfection and if you’re in Florence, you have to go. In addition to David, the unfinished marbles and the throngs of tour groups, there is also a large room filled with plaster models of many of the other great sculpture found throughout the city, including one of my favorites: Niccolo Machiavelli. The actual statue is in the courtyard of the Uffizi and is just plain wicked. The depiction reminds me a little of busts of Caesar, only he has straight hair and an academic, almost diabolic, expression. This makes sense, of course, since the devil was a pragmatist too.

After about an hour in the Accademia, we jaunted down the street to the Duomo, this time to just check out the inside. This was the first free thing we’ve done since we arrived in Italy. Well, not totally free since we spent 3 Euro to see the crypt below the main floor. A word to the wise: the crypt has low ceilings and, besides that, really isn’t worth the cost. I’d spring for a Euro, maybe, but 3 Euro is too much. Regardless, the inside of the cathedral is simply massive and brimming with this strangely echoing murmur of the crowds. I commented that it must be quite scary to be alone in the cathedral…since it was a little scary even with all the people wandering around. Once you walk the length of floor where hundreds of pews must have once been, you’re standing under the Duomo itself. The dome is covered in a mural of some sort that, though you are allowed to take photos, you can’t get a decent one of. My favorite part is the skeleton on the edge toward the back. I don’t know why…perhaps it was growing up watching He-Man?

After the Duomo, we decided to walk over the Ponte Vecchio to get some gelato and check out the Pitti Palace. Gelato is like ice cream, only with more crack cocaine in it. It has to be crack because it is incredibly addictive. I had them stick the chocolate gelato directly into my vein. Anyway, we wandered from there to the Palace and, upon realizing that there are three floors and they charge you for going to each of them, we decided to have a bite to eat at a café across the street instead. Crusty bread and divine deli meats (I’m totally going to get the gout from this trip) were followed by espresso and a realization that we could never be as cool and Mod as the Swedes sitting next to us. Mostly because Brooke could never come to putting a bowl on her head and cutting off random segments of her long hair. Feeling like squares, we trudged back toward the Arno River and our hotel for a rest.

The results of that little rest were described in 3.5 so I won’t bore you again with the details. Instead, I’ll tell you about our stupid tour guide for the Uffizi. The Uffizi (the Offices) is a building that was built by the Medici family about 500 years ago as office space and now houses one of the most impressive collections of Renaissance art in the world. Of course, if you were being given a tour by our crappy guide, you’d miss most of the good stuff. We took a guided tour because getting reservations for the museum is nearly impossible (they told us they were booked up until May 7th) and neither of us felt like waiting in line for 3 hours to get in. The alternative was to pay 27 Euros for a guided tour that included reserved entrance to the museum. Our tour was to begin at 4:30 and end an hour and a half later, leaving us about 45 minutes to wander the museum on our own. This may sound like a lot of time but this place is huge. You could literally spend an entire day and not absorb it all. It was to be whirlwind, to say the least. Our tour started with the guide, a condescending old bat, showing up 20 minutes late with no apology or explanation. After making our way through security with the group, she then informed us that she would need to give the tour in both English and French because of a mistake in booking and that that was ‘just how it has to be’. It was at about this point that Brooke and I decided that self-guided was the way to go and we broke from the group. And lucky we did. We ran into some folks from our group about 20 minutes later and were shocked that they had somehow gotten in front of us. It turned out that the guide had completely skipped the section with all of the Botticelli paintings, including the famous Venus di Milo. No doubt she skipped it because Botticelli is “passé” and decided to school us heathens on the beauty of some obscure Flemish painter. Bunko, I say! The Venus di Milo is flat AMAZING and should never be skipped, especially if you’re a heathen. No doubt, she also skipped the famous Michelangelo paintings as well. Anyway, it was gratifying, in an immature sort of way, to see a good segment of the group break off and head back when we informed them of what they’d missed.

We blazed through the museum at a lightning pace just go to see as much as possible before it closed. This is my one regret on our trip so far. If I had it to do over again, I would have gotten to the museum early in the morning, waited in line and spent the day wandering leisurely. Hell, they have a café and a bar there…we could have had a lovely lunch in between rooms. And we could have spent the last hour or so enjoying the World’s Largest Gift Shoppe ™. Holy crap, is it huge. Instead, we quickly meandered through it and exited onto the rainy streets along with every Italian high school student in the nation. About said students, you only have to know two things: They’re exceptionally loud and travel in large groups like fish. Avoid them at all cost.

After that, we decided to grab our last meal in Florence at the trattoria we’d eaten at the night before. You know me; I just can’t get enough of the hairy boars legs. This time, we got a meat plate and a cheese plate, along with a lovely bottle of 1999 Chianti Classico. I was tempted to order the ’81 but came to my senses when I realized we were sitting directly across the street from where we sold our souls for our leather jackets the day before. Also, Brooke would have killed me. We wound up having a nice conversation with a couple next to us. Seeing our jackets, they too became interested in the soul-for-leather exchange and we pointed them to Dante’s (not David’s as previously reported) across the street. They actually may be able to pay with money, however, since he was a divorce lawyer who’s uncles founded and subsequently sold Pyramid Brewing in Seattle. I asked him to thank his uncles for inventing such a fine product and told him that I alone probably accounted for 10% of their sales in Pullman when I was in college. Good stuff.

After dinner, we walked home and discovered the aforementioned bottle of champagne and note of apology. We watched a little of the only English channel that they have here: CNN Europe. We’ve been watching that and Italian commercials (because they’re hilarious and sometimes have nudity) at all the hotels we’ve stayed at so far and are very disappointed in the coverage. CNN should be renamed ‘Pope-o-Matic 3000’ because that’s all they report here. Pope B-16 is giving mass today; he just took a poop; breaking news: Pope sneezes. Boooooring. At first we’d hoped that CNN Europe would be held to a higher standard that it’s US counterpart but, sadly, it’s crap here too. I’d kill for the BBC right now. Or an update on Paris Hilton and Michael Jackson…

Ok, so, our train is about to stop in Rome so I’ll stop here. Our morning was uneventful and we caught our train without issue. Soon, we’ll be meeting up with Brooke’s brother and mother to do some laundry and plan the next few days in the heart of civilization.

Ciao,
Shaun.

ps-- We took (and gotten taken by) an unlicensed taxi from the train station to our hotel! I didn't even notice because we were digging for our hotel voucher...at least until I got in and realized there was no meter and he insisted I sit up front. It cost us 35 Euro...for a <10 ride. LAAAAME. We got screwed. So now Brooke thinks everyone's out to get us and is currently ordering automatic rifles and switchblades online for our protection here in Rome. I think it was a bummer...but part of the experience. No matter how much of a seasoned tourist you think you are, you'll wind up getting taken at leasts once. On a lighter note, the travel company that booked our hotel that Brooke complained to yesterday arranged for yet another bottle of champagne at this hotel. Bonus. I think that they were just trying to be nice but Brooke swears, after seeing the 'excuse our mess' construction signs in the elevator, that they're trying to keep us drunk so we don't mind then noise...