We arrive in Florence at the Santa Maria Novella train station and head in the general direction of our hotel, the Sempione, which is "only a few minutes from the station." This "few minutes" takes about a quarter of an hour. I always thought "few" meant three or four. I must now adjust my thinking when booking hotels. The hotel is in a so-so neighborhood but the clerk is very helpful, making reservations at the museums for us, and the rooms are clean and airy. We grab a quick lunch at a near-by restaurant and I hit the internet while waiting for our room to be made ready.
After a necessary nap we head out for a restaurant Pam and I discovered in December, Bacchus. It is about an hour's walk - a real sixty minute "hour." It takes us much longer, though, because Tom becomes totally enraptured with everything he sees. I must agree that walking through Florence is like walking back in time. We pass the Duomo and the Piazza Della Signoria, which is fronted by both the Pallazo Vecchio and the Uffizi Gallery. It is close to dusk so the Piazza is relatively uncrowded. We make a quick stop to see the sculptures in the Loggia dei Lanzi and the copy of Michelangelo's David which stands where the original did for hundreds of years. It is not hard, at this time in the evening, to realize that the piazza has changed very little since the Renaissance. We move on to the Ponte Vecchio, Florence's most famous bridge, then walk along the Arno River at sunset to the restaurant.
I am shocked to find the restaurant staff remember me from December. Of course, they are disappointed that I show up with Tom rather than Pam. She has that effect on people. We order the house wine which is the best wine bargain in Florence at �7.00 a bottle, as well as an appetizer. For dinner we get a "Tuscany T-bone," a kilo plus piece of beefsteak grilled over an open wood fire accompanied by two kinds of pasta and another bottle of wine. We stagger out of the restaurant sated beyond the bounds of good sense and decide to walk back to our hotel hoping that we will have digested enough of our dinner by the time we arrive to be able to go to sleep.
On the way we meet a group of four young female teachers from the Lyon area of France, who are lost and trying to find their way to the train station. Since this is my "second" trip to Florence, I am able to help them. Since only one of them speaks much English and Tom and I could most likely come up with maybe ten words in French if our lives were on the line, the conversation is limited but spirited.
I decide I must have a gelato "to settle my stomach." Lying to myself about how much food I need comes very easily in Italy. The gelato works and I fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow is a daunting day. We plan to do Academia, the Uffizi and the Pitti Palace.
We are exhausted,and thirsty by the time we get to Piazza Barberini. We flop onto the chairs outside our favorite little caf� and order two beers each. The waiter doesn't hesitate fetching them so I don't get the pleasure of quoting one of my favorite lines from John Steinbeck's "Cannery Row," "The first for thirst, the second for taste."
After a short nap and a quick reconnoiter of the area we choose a nearby restaurant. We are moderate in our alcohol consumption and just enjoy people watching. After dinner we walk to a caf� just off Via del Tritone near the bus terminal for a slice of tiramisu, that I recall from Pam's and my visit here last January, is "to die for." The tiramisu does not live up to my memory of it so we don't die but we do enjoy the parade of interesting "night" people wandering in and out of the place.
We end the evening relatively early for tomorrow we entrain for "Fabulous Florence."
As we are checking out of our hotel, we are interrupted by an American woman who asks the owner, who's checking us out, if there are any churches nearby where she can go to mass. The poor fellow is totally confused by her question. No one has ever asked him if there are any churches nearby. This is Rome.
We decide to go to Termini Station with plenty of time to spare as Tom must have his Eurail pass validated. It being Wednesday, we figure we will have no problems. Wrong! The lines at the ticket windows are very long. After trying to find an alternative to standing in line, such as an information booth like they have in other European countries, we discover there is only one place you can get your pass validated and that is at the ticket window. We are aware the ticket can be validated on the train but there is some unspecified charge to do so. The line moves slowly. The clock moves swiftly. With about 15 minutes to spare, Tom gets to a window where the agent is surprised that all he wants is a validation. We never do figure out what the alternatives might be. Fortunately it's a one time issue.
We are forced to kick a surly, German-Thai cross-cultural couple out of our seats. They obviously have no reservations but they just move across the aisle to a couple empty seats there. Not that they need to sit near one another as they never say a word to each other during the entire ride to Florence. Tom notices their lack of communication and mentions it to me. I tell him I don't find this kind of behavior abnormal in Western-Asian marriages. I think part of the problem is lack of a common language and part of it is lack of a common cultural background. There are exceptions, of course, and there are plenty of common-culture spouses who don't talk to each other. Nevertheless, this phenomenon is a good reason for people to think deeply before they marry someone from another culture, no matter how strong the attraction is at first.
We have reservations but I'm not so sure we need them in First Class. They aren't so expensive so maybe it's better to play it safe but I notice that every train I take during the entire seven weeks has empty seats in First Class. I think if I was traveling alone, I'd forego the reservations except on holidays. With a partner, it's nice to know you'll have seats together, assuming you are talking to one another.
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