We have had great luck with our apartments. The agents or owners have hitherto always been on time, and we have always liked the places we have stayed. But when we arrived in Florence, at about 5:00 PM, there was no answer when we called the agency, so we proceeded to the apartment on the assumption that the agent would meet us there. We arrived, and still no agent. (In retrospect, I think that she was the owner.) She arrived about a half-hour later, running down the street saying that the she was told that we would not arrive until 6:00 PM. No harm, no foul. The worst thing was having all of our luggage strewn out on the very narrow sidewalk as we were waiting for the keys.

The apartment was VERY large – we have had very good luck with size since we left Paris. It is set up to be either a two bedroom or two one bedroom apartments. Since the second bedroom was not leased, they let us use that one, too. Not a bad part of town – across the river from most of what you want to see in Florence, but still in easy walking distance.

As we do in most cities on arrival, Doreen unpacked and I went searching for treats. I found a couple of places open where I bought beer, bread, sausage, cheese, Parma ham and olive oil. By the time I got back, most of the stuff was put away, and we sat down to eat some of our food.

We have been largely disappointed by bread in Italy. It could be that it has suffered in comparison to France, but we have found it mostly tasteless and soft. Well, this loaf of bread was as big as a football, and beautifully brown and crusty. The guy who ran the store talked me into buying the bread, saying that it is a specialty of the region. It really looked good. The problem was, as Doreen started slicing it for our meal, we saw weevils crawling on it. Now, I am very bug-phobic, but this bread looked SO good, and we could not find any bugs INSIDE the bread, we told ourselves that the bugs came from the countertop. The bread was very, very good, and we ate it for about a week. It stayed fresh (it was very dense) and we seldom saw weevils after that first day.

If there is one person who is generally associated with Florence, it is Michaelangelo Buenaroti. You know – Michaelangelo from David, The Sistine Chapel, and The Dome of St Peters in Rome. (We were reading The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone while we were in Florence. A great book to read in that city.) It is an amazing thing to walk the streets and see the city the way it is today, and then to imagine it the way it was 500 years ago. (Michaelangelo lived from 1475 to 1564). It was fun looking for his various houses, finding his art and architecture, looking at his tomb. The Dominican monk Savanarola plays a key figure in the book. He was trying to reform the Church, but also condemned a lot of art and literature. He was hung in the main square in Florence, and his body burned. It was the 502 anniversary of his martyrdom, and they were having special event to commemorate it – a parade and a musical Spectacolo. We got to the square about a half an hour early – which was much earlier than many of the orchestra members. The choir had marched in as part of the parade and took their places on the stage, and waited for twenty minutes as we watched many people with instrument cases hurrying up the front steps of the stage.

Tombs and monuments, as I have mentioned before, are big things here in Italy. I mean BIG things as well as significant things. We saw Gallileo’s tomb, a tribute to Dante, (Dante himself was banished from Florence and is buried in Ravenna), a tribute to Fermi, Marconi’s tomb, and Michealangelo’s tomb all in the same church. Almost every piece of flooring and every spot on every wall is covered with people’s remains. And some of the most gruesome monuments that you can imagine! Skeletons, Medusa heads, emaciated bodies. We have seen so many relics and bodies that when we see a saint wrapped in gauze and set up as if lying awake with her skull in her hands, we barely notice it.

I don’t really want this to degrade into a laundry list of "Things I did on my Summer Vacation" so I will make it a little more interesting by making it "Things I have touched on my Summer Vacation". Some of you may remember that I was able to touch (with the guard’s encouragement, of course) the REAL Rosetta stone (click here to see a picture), and subsequently they have put it behind glass. (I will make note that they did NOT put it behind glass as a matter of conservation, nor to prevent people from touching it. They did so because it is easier to see while behind glass). Now, some of you out there, particularly you people who happen to be museum curators in cities like, well, Fort Worth, may look askance at my desire to touch works of art. I will say this for that: First of all, Doreen does everything she can to encourage me to do this, she even at times feigns sickness or fright in order to divert the museum guard’s attention from the object in question. (ed.note Ah, yes, I believe in enabling this sort of behavior however I can. dns) Second, I only touch things that are stone, and third, I only touch the unfinished side of the piece, unless, of course, there is a sign that says: "TOUCH HERE. FEEL THE STONE THAT MICHAELANGELO CARVED FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO!" So I am operating in the best interest of the art in question. Besides, how else will I be able to relate to the general population how it feels to touch a stone pillar carved in the 5^th century BC? And another thing – you may well ask, "What would happen if EVERYONE wanted to touch this art?" well, they shouldn’t. But I am only one person, and if you keep all those other people from touching it, then I can touch it!

So with that in mind, Doreen brought me to The Bargello, the old jail in the center of Florence. It now houses all of the sculptures that used to be in the Medici family’s personal collection. (All the Medici art was given to the City of Florence. The paintings went into the Uffizzi, and the sculptures went into the Bargello. It was one of the few places in Florence where we did not have to wait in line. It was a very impressive place with a large central courtyard, and the artwork displayed both inside and out. There was one room dedicated to Michaelangelo, which included his Baccus, Brutus, and a

study he did for the David. Also in the Bargello were the many Donatello sculptures, including his bronze David (Lovingly referred to by Doreen as the "Nancy David"), his Lion that used to be outside in the main plaza in front of City Hall, and a statue of St George that used to be outside as well, in a niche of one of the old churches. It was a GREAT place, and a great place for touching. I will still not bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that Doreen stumbled, had an upset stomach, and developed a very bad headache and had to sit down in that museum.

Most of these Donatellos has been copied, and the copies were on display in the public spaces. Michealangelo’s David on the steps of the Signoria is also a copy. You have to pay for everything you do in Florence, and there is not a museum pass like they have in Paris. Last time she was there, Doreen decided to skip going to see the "real" David, because the copy is, well, big but no great shakes. This time we did go to see the real one, and it is incredibly moving. Unlike some of the other famous works of art that have become "memes," this piece merits its fame.

The other thing that we came to associate with Florence was great food. It seemed that everywhere we went, there was an outstanding restaurant that provided good, sometimes expensive, food. For example, one, after visiting San Croche, we passed by a small place called La Baraonda. They were closed until 12:30 (we frequently ate our main meals at lunchtime) so we decided to return and sit and eat al fresco there. The owner and staff were eating lunch when we returned (about 12:25) but he told us to sit where we wanted and they would be out directly. Indeed they were, a very jolly man who told us excitedly about their offerings. We had some GREAT Italian cheeses (with a Fig mustard, if you can believe that!) for an appetizer, I had a bean and pasta soup, and Doreen had a something pasta for our main dishes. This food was so good that we returned the next day! Again, we showed up as they were eating, and we sat and had another wonderful meal. Baraonda, by the way, is an untranslatable Italian word that means the happy hub-bub that you experience at a great party.

Oddly enough, the Arno river was able to supply us with some amusement as well. I had mentioned that we were on the "wrong" side of the Arno, which means that we had to cross the river repeatedly. Now, those of you who know me, know that I have a morbid fear of heights, and an even greater fear of crossing bridges. I think that came from crossing the Huey P. Long bridge in New Orleans at too young an age, but that is another story. So I generally walked on the traffic side of the bridge, while Doreen would walk the water side. One day we saw several people leaning over the bridge (This really gave me the heebie-jeebies) and talking. We stopped, and I gingerly looked over the side. You could see HUNDREDS of fish in the water!

As we looked further, you could also see something that looked all the world like a Nutria Rat.

We were never able to determine decisively what this thing was (Muskrat, Nutria, some other large rodent) but we saw them frequently. As a matter of fact, after we had eaten as much of the weevilly bread as we could stand, we took the rest to the bridge and threw it of for the geese, pigeons, and giant rats.

Another interesting thing that happened while in Florence is that Doreen decided that she was not getting enough exercise simply walking around the city, so she decided to climb as much of the city walls as she could. As I have said before, I am afraid of heights, so I could not join her, but you can see that she did VERY well in getting up to the peaks of theses walls.

I was doing what I preferred doing best – looking for food. You can see that I found the Biggest Bologna North of the Arno while in Florence. I touched it, too. We bought some of this famous Mortadella for lunch. And it tasted like – well, Bologna!!!

We had a great time in Florence, in spite of the Florentines. As Doreen says, they all have an attitude problem. They were the center of the intellectual, economic, and artistic world in the 16^th century, and they have not changed since. They have a very haughty and patronizing air about them that they feel is justified by their history. And so many tourists come to visit, they don’t feel that they have to cater to them. They don’t sweep the streets every night as they do in Paris and Venice, and every single Piazza where you should be able to lounge in the sun with a beer is used as a parking lot.

The Florentines are like much of the rest of Europe being united in hatred of American military presence. NATO was holding meetings while we were there, and we got to witness our second parade of the week – a bunch of folks marching with banners in protest. Our favorites were these guys who fashioned tanks out of shopping carts.

While it wasn’t our favorite city, Florence was the intellectual, artistic, and economic center of Europe at one point, and it has so much history to offer, you tend to overlook the negative. Dante was born there, and you can see the small church where he attended services. The entire cathedral is covered with bright green, pink and white marble – unlike anything I have ever seen. It is hard to find a place with more beautiful art, architecture, and food, and we will be back.

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