 |
Florence, 25-30 May
Here the Art Gods smile upon our poor travelers, as they queue up for the Galleria Academie and discover that they have randomly chosen to do so on Free Admission Day. Our hostel in fair Firenze was the Ostello Villa Camerata, which is about a mile out into the countryside, through a gate hidden at the far end of a roundabout at the far end of the 17C bus line. But oh, it's worth it. Fifteen euro a night, breakfast included, the grounds are spectacular, there's an enormous porch and a balcony, a garden with a fountain, roses, and lots of cats, and the entrance hall has massive cherubs and naked mythological people on it. So okay, I got fleas, Lyah was the midnight buffet for the local mosquito population, and we had the horrendous American Roommate From Hell for one night, but for fifteen euro, you can't complain too much.
Here is also where Lyah's suitcase (Toby) burst open in the cambio. We patched up the zipper with safety pins, at which point he became punk-rock Toby.
|
The garden of the hostel. Sitting on the porch gazing on this at sunset in summer and drinking Chianti straight from the bottle ... all that was missing was a mandolin and some men in tights, and we would have been in a Kenneth Branagh movie.
|
|
Okay, children, the first in our "Please Tell Me You Know What This Is" series.
 |
And the inside. Very William Blake, though it predates him by about 300 years. So I suppose I should say Blake is "very Duomo," but that doesn't quite have the same ring.
 |
Santa Croce. We lied about our age to get the reduced admission rate. Inside, we found a monk playing "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" and then "Toccata and Fugue in D Major" very very badly. This led us to hope that the wedding he was practicing for was not for a long time - unfortunately, at that point, a bunch of men in tuxedoes walked in and started talking to him. There was one disappointed bride that day, I'm willing to bet. Hope she got a refund.
Many note-worthy Florentines are buried here, including Machiavelli.
 |
GIOTTO!!! FRESCOES!!! GIOTTO!!!! Oh, my GOD!!!!!
(involving a super-intelligent shade of the colour blue ...)
 |
Me and Lyah in the cloisters of Santa Croce - beautiful galleries.
DAY-TRIP TO LUCCA, 28 MAY
Lucca is my ancestral home in Italy. I spent all day wandering around looking for something, anything, with my family name on it (Ragghianti). I found nothing. This led me to conclude that my ancestors must have been dirt-eating poor personas non grata around Lucca, which probably explains why they said "f*#@ this" and went to San Francisco.
 |
Lyah in the hat, matching the local stonework.
 |
San Michele, Lucca, with the bridal-cake facade that looks like it's made out of peppermint sticks.
