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October 2006

Tuesday 3rd October 2006

After a relaxing long weekend (with just a short walk yesterday), I was looking forward to my day with 'David'. The sky was heavy with dark cloud but it's often that way, usually clearing by late morning, so I wasn't worried. I took my umbrella though, just in case.

My ticket reservation was for 10 - 10:15 a.m. but having seen the long reservation line when I went past the accademia last week, I was there just after 9 a.m., along with literally hundreds of other people. The doors were shut and a sign announced that 'due to a staff meeting, the accademia would not open until 10,50!!' I joined the queue, which continued to grow, as did the 'unreserved' ticket line. My place was right beside the exit door, which was the site of much activity. If they were having a staff meeting it was without many of the staff present for there was an awful lot of staff emerging and then returning 10 or so minutes later, some clutching shopping bags, others with coffee and food. Later more staff arrived, obviously only just coming to work. There were also workmen coming and going, some pushing large crates on wheels through the doors. Someone remarked that there had probably been an accident - David had fallen - and they were bringing in new parts (head, hands etc) to repair him!

By 10:30 a.m. the crowds had grown and were spilled over into the streets around the accademia. There had to be thousands there and they were packed in so tight that the small electric cars that putter around the Florence Streets could not get through. There was grumbling from all sides. Everytime the exit door behind me opened, people were pushing forward and demanding to know if they could get the extra money they paid for a 'reservation' back! When the entry door finally opened at 10,50 everyone began pushing forward. When the staff motioned them back and began to let latecomers in first (tour guides with their groups), there was almost a riot, with people around me declaring that they had been waiting in the queue for over 2 hours so how come these other people were getting in ahead of them. The guy on the door said they were letting them in first because they had tickets for 8,15 but when they also let tour groups in whose reservations were for 11 a.m. the story changed to 'tour groups have preference'! That did not go down well at all. People right at the back didn't know what was going on; the noise level rose alarmingly and the crowds pressed further forward. I could see a disaster happening and only hoped that no-one fell beneath the crowd - they'd likely never get up again! I was pressed up against a wall and made sure that I kept my side to it so that my chest wasn't crushed. I had visions of being hemmed in so tightly that I wouldn't be able to breath! If I could have got out, I would have left the area and tried again another day - I'm sure they wouldn't have turned me down on the basis that my ticket was for a different day. However, I was unable to move so had to stay put.

Then someone further up the chain of command came out and tried to explain that the tour companies had been advised about the late opening and so they had timed their arrival for the opening, regardless of what their ticket said. In that way they didn't have to queue. He went on to say that they had to do it this way because those people were on tight schedules, with buses and other connections to catch. People in the crowd said that they were also on tight schedules, with connections to make! One bright spark said he had a rolled umbrella ready and that he'd be willing to hold it in the air for all of us to follow him, just as the tour crowd was following their leaders! Problem was, we didn't have an ear piece in one ear, with a black or brightly coloured curly cord hanging from it, leading to a receiver fixed on our belt! All it needed was for the black clouds to open and pour their contents down on the crowd, but luckily it didn't. (I would love to have taken a picture of all this, but there was no way I could get to my bag,let alone out of the crowd to do so!)

Eventually, they began to let some of the queue through between each tour group, which was a much better system. What they should have done was to let the tour groups in through the exit doors - that would have lessened the crush and tempers would not have been so fraught! I had only been about 100 yards down from the door so it wasn't too long before I got out of the crush and in through the doors.

As it was, it was so crowded once I got inside that it was difficult to see anything much at all. I hurried through the inevitable and inescapable gift shop, and into the vestibule, where the Rape of the Sabines (a plaster cast model of the marble statue in Piazza Della Signoria) is displayed. Around the walls was a series of art works (Francesco Botticini) but the crowd was so dense that I could not stand back and see anything. I reasoned that the crowd would most likely then head for David and the other Michelangelo sculptures, so I took off the other way and ended up in the relative peaceful surroundings of the Musical Instrument Museum. As well as a range of instruments from the ages, there were banks a very modern computer screens and I sank gratefully down in front of one of them. At least I could rest my feet for awhile; I'd been standing about on them for 2 1/2 hours by that time!

After choosing my language, I travelled through time to the Age of the Medici, and heard the history of the music of the courts, the art of the time, the famous musicians,composers and instrument makers (such as violin maker, Nicolo Amati, 1596-1684),of that age. I learnt about the music of the theatre, particularly opera, and the changes opera went through and listened to excerpts from some. I saw how the sets changed from simple to elaborate, some even including the use of water and animals. Then I moved onto the Age of the Lorraines, (they came after the Medici's lost power in 1737). With them came a strong Austrian influence in all aspects of social and cultural life in Florence, including music.

Most of the tour groups had gone by the time I got to Michelangelo's Prisoners. ('David' was down at the end of the hall, standing tall and proud, but he was surrounded by crowds so I took my time moving down towards him) Viewing Prisoners, it was easy to imagine the sculptor standing before a huge block of marble, studying it in an effort to see what it would become. Michelangelo believed that the figures he carved from the rock were already in there; his job was to 'liberate' them. When the mood was on him he would chip and carve for days on end, without sleep, imploring the figures he knew to be inside to 'speak' so that he would know how to cut to reveal them. Walking around each piece I marvelled at how well this man knew the human body. His chisel marks are clear in many places. The works are unfinished, making it even easier to imagine the process. (They were intended for the never-completed tomb of Pope Julius 11, who also commissioned the Sistine Chapel.) When Michelangelo left Forence in 1534, never to return, the unfinished pieces were left behind in his workshop.

Out of the corner of my eye, I was always aware of David, who seemed to be beckoning me on. He stands on a high pedestal, under a dome that casts a light down on him, and he seems so alive, so aware of all these eyes upon him, yet nonchalant, relaxed, in spite of all his dangly bits being so on show! I turn my back on him and concentrate on the other pieces that remain between me and him.

Another unfinished statue is 'St Matthew'; this was to be a series of 12 intended for the Tribune of the Cathedral of Florence, a project never carried out, eventually abandoned. Pieta was the final piece before David. Although it had been attributed to Michelangelo, apparently there is ongoing argument about this; many think it was more likely sculpted by his followers. Looking at the piece, I tend to agree. The figures are totally out of proportion, especially the body of Christ, who has a large chest and very skinny legs. The arms are abnormally large, and much too long. These bodies do not look as human as those we know Michelangelo did. And this piece has no written history or mention that can be found, unlike every other piece Michelangelo did.

And so to David. Still a bit of a crowd but he's so tall it was easy to stand back to see him, and then to squeeze in to see sections more closely. I shall have to go back now and look at the copy in the Piazza Della Signoria to confirm my impression that this original is more detailed. Hanging down his back, clear against his skin, is his sling. I can see the veins in David's legs, his hand, and his buttocks. The ones in his hand stand out from the 'flesh'; those in his legs and buttocks are deeper, and faintly blue. Standing back, I can see beneath his 'skin' to imagine the muscle, tendons and bone beneath. The marble is glowing, and alabaster white; I read that it was cleaned a couple of years ago and guess that keeping it inside also helps to preserve it. There was some controversy about cleaning it, with some 'experts' declaring that it would ruin the statue because the marble is very poor quality and water would wash bits of it away. Luckily, they were wrong. (It occured to me during my viewing that I have no idea how that copy was made. I know that it is also made of marble but no idea who made it or how. I shall have to research that! There are, I read somewhere, many copies of his David scattered all over the world, including, I was astounded to read, one somewhere in Surfer's Paradise. I also personally know of one in a house in Western Australia. It was meant to go in the garden but its owner loves it so much she put it in the house. Yes, you know who you are.)

Michelangelo Buonarotti was just 26 years old when he was commissioned to carve a large-scale work for the Duomo. The block of marble he was given for the job was one that had been rejected by other sculptors as being too tall, shallow or flawed to be of any real value. Perhaps he was too young to know that because he picked up his chisel and hammer and knocked a knot off what became David's heart, and began to work in earnest. Unlike Donatello's Davids', who were both very slight and effeminate, Michelangelo's David is a real man; not brutish but a thinking man who looks as if he could overcome any problem. (I note the slight crack in his left arm, where it was broken off during a riot near the Palazzo Vecchio.)

David is out of proportion - at least his head is in relation to his body - but this is because the statue was to go on top of the Duomo. If it was up that high, viewed from below the proportions would be perfect. It didn't end up at that height purely because the people loved it so much they wanted it down where they could admire it, up close and personal.

On my way to the exit I viewed some religious paintings (Botticellis) and then went over to the Salone dell'ottocento to see the plaster models of many of the statues I've seen during my time in Florence. Unfortunately, the salon was closed for refurbishment! A few more religious paintings by artists unknown to me were hung in the two rooms at the exit, just before I emerged into another shop, where I purchased a couple of postcards and some bookmarks. I finally walked out of the Accademia at 1:30 p.m. If anything, the crowd outside had grown and it was hard to fight my way through and out the other side, but I eventually made it and, after calling in to the bus station to collect my tickets for Pisa tomorrow, I made my tired way home. (I swear my feet sighed when I finally sat down!)

Wednesday 4th October

Well, Pisa was a grand disappointment. I left here to catch the 8.15 a.m. bus but it was so crowded I decided to stay and get the next one at 9.15. (I could have gone by train, which only takes 1/2 hour, but I had read that the train station at Pisa is a 45 minute walk from the Field of Miracles. And besides, I like the bus because it goes through some little villages and so one gets to see more than the suburban backyards, junk yards and rubbish dumps that trains all over the world pass close to.)

The bus company that goes to Pisa (Lazza) is not as organised as the one I've used for other destinations to date (Sita). There was a list on a board, announcing the bus departures, but nothing to show which bay. The voice announcement didn't specify either, so when I heard the Pisa bus announced, I asked the ticket clerk where it was leaving from. He pointed out the door and said 'that bus there.' He lied (a joke) or made an honest mistake, I don't know, but luckily for me I asked the driver before I got right on that bus. It was going nowhere near Pisa! The bus I eventually took (I bearded the 'boss' in his office to ask where) was nowhere near where that other bus was. He (the 'boss') told me that I would have to change in Lucca. That didn't worry me because Lucca is somewhere I wanted to see.

So, the bus left on time, so far so good I thought. Two hours later we pulled into Lucca. The trip out of Florence, through the suburbs, took forever. We did stop at many little villages and it was nice to see the countryside, but then the trip through the outer parts of Lucca were stop, start all the way. I had one quick walk around the square outside the old city walls of Lucca before I had to run to catch my bus to Pisa. One hour later, we arrived at the walls of the Field of Miracles, the trip through Pisa (which sprawls everywhich way) was longer than the drive out of Florence. It was 12.30 p.m. and the place was packed with people, wall to wall. I fought my way through the tourists and the stall holders (everything tacky you can imagine is sold at stalls that line the way, or by people who lunge at you from the crowd, with watches, sun-glasses and so on that they urge you to buy) and finally got to see the leaning tower.

The tip of it was visible behind the Duomo. The Bapistery was immediately in front of me and, behind it, the Composanto Cemetery, all in bright, white marble. (I didn't go inside but it is said to be lined with faint frescoes, and is famous for its 'Holy Land' dirt, said to reduce a body to bones within a day!) It was a cloudy, dim day but I took some photos to prove that I had been there, and moved around to see the tower in full. I was accompanied by a pushing jostling crowd of school- children, out on a day's excursion I think. All around me were people posed with their hands upstretched, their partners taking the photos everyone must have - of themselves holding the tower up.

The tower too was a bit of a disappointment; it's not nearly as high as I'd thought it would be, and looks like a wedding cake gone wrong. Wire netting ringed some parts of it, and I could see workmen cleaning or repairing parts of the outer wall, which would be a neverending job I would say, something like the painting of the harbour bridge. I had never had any intention of climbing its 300 stairs to see the view from the top, so that was it for the tower for me. (Everyone knows about the tower so I won't say any more on that subject.)

I did contemplate going into the Duomo but there were just too many people, so I contented myself with the outside. The building, I read, was begun in 1063, financed by a load of booty ransacked from the Muslim-held capital of Palermo, Sicily. (Mind you, this is a religious building; I guess that looting in the name of God is okay.) The main entrance facade was added in 1118, and you'll no doubt be interested to learn (well, I was) that this also has a lean, of about 1 foot, but it leans out, rather than over.) The Bronze Back Door is very interesting. It was designed by Bonnano Pisano (1186) and is comprised of 24 panels showing Christ's story. It is easy to see that this door was the inspiration for Lorenzo Ghiberti's bronze doors in Florence.

So, what did I miss inside the Duomo? Giovanni Pisano's pulpit (15 feet tall!); Galileo's Lamp; Emperor Henry V111's tomb, (his untimely death in 1313 plunged Pisa into its centuries-long decline); and finally, the mumifed body of St. Ranieri, the patron saint of Pisa.

My blood sugar level by this time was at an all-time low and I could feel a headache coming on, so I found the toilets (30 cents, oh how I miss our 'free' loos at home) and then set out to find some food. Alas, it was all tourist fare - greasy hot-dogs, hamburgers and the like, so I had a large drink of water, ate my banana, and left the Field of Miracles to see what else Pisa might have to offer. Avoiding the main traffic areas, I walked down little cobbled back streets and eventually came to the Arno. It goes into the sea, which I believe is 10kms from the city of Pisa. I crossed one of its bridges and took some photos and then continued on, hoping to find somewhere I could buy a cup of tea or coffee and have a bit of a sit down.

A short while later, I came to a bus stop and there was the Lucca bus. Having seen enough of Pisa, I hopped on and an hour later was in Lucca. I had thought I might stop there and investigate the old city I could see behind the walls, but it looked like a two day spot to me and by this time I'd had enough. Lucca might get a visit from me if I ever get back to Italy, but this trip it's off the itinerary. My bus for Florence was leaving so I hopped on and 2 hours later arrived back where I'd started from. (I spotted a Post Office near the bus station that I hadn't known was there and wondered if the service there was better than that at the other.)

Thursday 5th October

I stuck to Florence today so not such an early start. I began with a walk to Oltrarno, although because it begins at the Ponte Vecchio, and virtually goes past my appartment, I cheated and began it here! The walk takes in parts of the city that the average tourist misses, south of the Arno river.

Ninety percent of Florence's people live and work in the Oltrarno district. If you look on the map, the Forence area finishes at Porta San Frediano, the gate to the city wall, and Pisa district begins just outside of it. The wall is, of course, the remnants of the ancient city wall that once ringed old Florence. The roads are lined with little shops and workshops, and busy vespas dart along the narrow ways, dodging foot traffic. In some places there are huge buildings, once palazzi (they have huge doors and sometimes iron railings that allow a glimpse of an inner courtyard and luxurious gardens. Most of these are appartments now, as evidenced by the rows of doorbells at the huge outer doors.)

Little niches are everywhere, shrines to saints, and on walls here and there are huge marble blocks set into the wall and inscribed with a memorial to the occupant's departed loved one. Some even have vases for flowers attached to the wall, or in one case, a huge wreath. The streets are so narrow and the buildings so close that one can believe the old story that Florentines of old never got wet when it rained.

Then there was the church of Santa Maria del Carmine, at the top of a little square off the main road. Some tourists must get out this way because there was one tour group ready to go through the church and when I went in, there was a booth where one could buy a ticket to look through the church and the museum. I didn't go in, I think I'm all frescoed out. I walked back down to the main road, looking at the huge palazza's that lined this square, all sad reminders of past wealth for they are showing signs of wear, paint peeling, rendering patchy, colours faded.

In due course, I came to the medieval wall, and the gate into the old city. Porta San Frediano was built in about 1300, and I read that in medieval times, a three-quarter-mile wide strip outside the wall was cleared to deny attackers any cover. The tower was originally twice as high, before guns and cannons, but once they came into the picture, the tower was an easy mark so it was cut down in size. The old doors, original not copies, are huge and pretty impressive, studded all over as they are with large nails.

I turned and headed back down to the Ponte Vecchio, where I did a little gift shopping, and then crossed the bridge and walked down to Via Ghibellina, where I found Casa Buonarroti, Michelangelo's House. The entry fee was quite hefty - 6.50 (Euro) but I'd heard it was worth seeing so paid up. 'No photographs' I was told. A constant refrain - but understandable, they want you to buy their postcard pictures and certainly don't want you taking quality stuff that you might sell and make a profit from.

Of course, this wasn't Michelangelo's actual house, that is long gone, and the entry to his actual humble home is a couple of doors away. But the property was owned by him and his grand-nephew, Michelangelo the Younger, built this house to honour his famous relative.

I began with a tour of three rooms given over to a special exhibition of the works of Fabrizio Boschi (1572-1642), a relative of Michelangelo. They were all religious works, of course, but I admired the detail in his work, and the way he used light in his portraits to draw the viewers eye. There was also a sketch of one of his works, drawn on parchment that was quite deteriorated (one could see the fine weave, where the strands had separated and so it is kept behind glass in a controlled temperature but the sketch was quite clear. The final art work was on a wall nearby (Salome being presented with the head of John the Baptist) and it was interesting to see those areas the artist had improved on when it came to the final canvas.

I lingered in the small courtyard for awhile. It was all cool stone and very quiet. Two large statues, one in a toga, gazed down at me. On the wall beside the small back staircase are a series of plaques. The inscriptions were in Latin, which I cannot read. From there I walked up the stairs and so into the museum, where I was pleased to see that there were lots of descriptions of displays in English. On the way, I passed through a little alcove that contained some statues that I did not recognise - no signs to say what they were either.

Because I'd come up the backway, I had to go through the rooms to the front, where one is expected to start. On the way, I found a room set with chairs in rows before a continually running video that showed many of Michelangelo's works and described them and perhaps much of his life. I sat and watched for awhile but it was all in Italian, which takes a lot of my concentration to understand even a portion, so I moved on to the first room of the displays.

Here I was faced with walls of portraits of Michelangelo, all done by different artists but all looking very similar. They showed him as an older man, about 60, and I read that they were painted during different ages but his likeness was taken each time from a painting that is in Rome. Also in this room is a glass case containing some 'shoes' that looked more like slippers, albeit of soft leather. They certainly looked too frail to protect feet from the hard cobblestones. One pair had backs in them, another just a tiny rise at the back, much like those shoes young people wear today. They were also very pointy so I guess it's true, there is nothing new under the sun! Also in that display case were a couple of walking sticks and a sword.

Another room was given over to small models (clay and plaster) that Michelangelo (some were by his students) used to plan his large sculptures. Yet other rooms contained row upon row of his sketches, and many of his lesser known works. Thankfully, Michelangelo did not do what he is said to have planned to do before he died, and that was to burn all of his preliminary sketches (lest any man think him less than perfect).

There are also three rooms, planned and executed by Michelangelo the Younger, as a sort of memorial. The first room contains paintings (on walls and ceiling) by artists of the times depicting the life of Michelangelo. The next room contains more works, each depicting an event in the life of Michelangelo and/or his family. A tiny section of this room was sectioned off and behind a little door is the smallest study I have ever seen, where, the sign said, Michelangelo the Younger used to do his research.

The final room was the most interesting. On each of the four walls are painted some of the illustrious Tuscans of the day. On one wall, writers and poets, on the next two, astronomers, mathematicians, navigators, physicians, doctors, herbalists. On the last wall there are orators, jurists, historians and humanists. All the figures are painted as if leaning on a balcony, looking down on we who look up at them. On the parapet of the balcony are monochrome busts of famous men.

Thinking my tour over, I set out to find the stairs (it's a virtual rabbit warren up there), only to discover two more rooms I hadn't yet seen. In the first was a huge wooden model of a building and a statue of a reclining, headless, man. The sign informed me that both items were models for two unexecuted grand projects. The first was the planned facade for the Church of San Lorenzo. The second was to represent a river god, planned as part of the decoration for the new Sacristy, where personifications of rivers were to be placed at the base of the Medici tombs.

In the second room I found two works that were executed when Michelangelo was still an adolescent. The first, Battle of the Centaurs (1490-92) shows his passion for ancient art. It's a squirming tangle of naked, fighting bodies - very dramatic. Michelangelo kept this piece in his private collection all of his life. The second piece, also a relief panel, is another of his earliest known pieces. While the other depicts a lot of movement (one can almost hear the grunts and groans of the battling men), and is very emotional, The Madonna of the Stairs (1490) is quiet, contemplative, the subjects still. This is a Christian work, the other definitely pagan. And these styles are those that Michelangelo veered between for all of his life - emotional or contemplative, moving or still, Christian or pagan.

The museum closes at 2 p.m. and it was after one by this time, so I visited the store, hoping to find something interesting, but as usual it was all just cheap touristy stuff. I left Michelangelo and walked back down to the Piazza Della Signoria. It was full of tourists, the tables at the little restaurants that line the sides full, and the little horse drawn conveyances all lined up on one side; the horses were eating lunch and their drivers were enjoying a siesta! I took a few snaps and looked again at this copy of David, seeing now the subtle difference between this and the real thing.

Not quite ready to finish for the day, I then went into the Palazzi Vecchio, where a bored looking guard was searching everyone's bags. (The x-ray machine and belt were out of order!) While I waited in line, not seeing any signs to the contrary and following the lead of others in the line, I took a few photos of the entry.

After passing through the metal detector (my friendly 'buongiorno' receiving no more than a grunt) and opening my bag for inspection, I moved into the next section, where one can look through the shop, buy a ticket to go into the Palace, or if getting married, head on into the Registrar's Office - or whatever the equivalent of that is here. I saw 3 brides and their wedding parties while I was there. All the guests stay outside, while the bride and groom go through the 'legal' wedding, the church wedding here not being recognised as 'legal in the eyes of the state'. (In Australia, the person officiating at a wedding, a priest, minister, or marriage celebrant, is authorised by the state to perform the ceremony and so only the one is needed.)

I had no intention of going through the Palace (I'd already seen the Pitti Palace) but wanted to see the courtyards. Having done that, I exited back into the Piazza, along with another wedding party who had completed the legal part of their wedding and were welcomed back outside by an applauding crowd of happy friends and relatives, and a lot of tourists. I took a few more snaps in the Piazza, and decided to call it a day. The streets were packed with tourists so I took the little back streets (a bit longer but easier), where I found a little alimentary where I bought some nice crispy bread and cheese for lunch. Tomorrow, weather permitting, I plan to go to San Gimignano. If not, well, I still have some more shopping to do.

Friday 6th October 2006

A beautiful day after two days of cloud so I set out early for the bus station. Today was the day designated for San Gimignano. Alas, today was also the day the bus drivers decided to stage a strike. I can't complain; first strike I've encountered since I've been here.

I spent a morning walking around Florence, taking more photos and doing almost all of my gift shopping. I snapped the Ponte Vecchio from the other side, walked through the Uffizi courtyard and snapped some carabineri (who looked at me as if I were a suspicious person!), snapped some street scenes, and then did my weekend grocery shopping. Home to drop the shopping off, I turned the computer on to check my email, to discover that the connection wasn't working!

Lunch over, but the Italian siesta not, I set out for Santa Maria Novella, which was on my list for next week. They open early on Friday afternoons (1300 hrs) so a good time for me to tick this one off. I didn't take any photos of the outside because they are doing renovations, or cleaning, and it's a mess of scaffolding and plastic. The facade however, is green and white marble and has horizontal stripes, arches, squares and circles, and scrolls, (Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance and proto- Baroque).

To get to the ticket office, one has to walk through the cemetery, which is a large rectangular space, grassed in the middle. Around the sides of this, set into the ground, are inscribed stones. It is not a pleasant spot and smelled decidedly musty. A large sign at the ticket office states that one must be dressed appropriately (no shorts), show respect and be quiet, turn off mobile phones, and definitely 'no cameras'.

The construction of the nave (330 feet long) is such that it looks much longer than it is - a wonderful illusion created with the judicial use of columns that converge as one walks down it, and arches that lose height as the floor gains it. Giotto's Crucifixion (1266-1337) is hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the nave. On the left wall, as one faces the altar, is Masaccio's The Trinity (1427). What is particularly interesting about this particular fresco is not so much the subjects, but the way it has been painted; it's in 3-D. Stand in just the right spot and it looks like the entry into a side chapel. The checkerboard ceiling heightens the effect, and the columns at the side appear to stand out from the wall they are painted on. The cloaks of the two kneeling figures in the foreground spill over the sides and appear to be hanging out of the painting. Below this 'chapel' is a painted tomb that contains the 'skeleton' of Adam. (To the right of this painting is another 'tomb', a box-like affair with a glass panel inserted in the side so the viewer can see a model or statue of the crucified Christ inside.)

In a chapel beside the main altar (this church has a lot of chapels, apparently paid for by wealthy patrons of the day) is Filippo Brunelleschi's Crucifixion, which is carved from wood. The walls of the choir area behind the altar are covered with frescos (1485-90) by Domenico Ghirlandaio (who painted himself into one of them). The most interesting one of these was that of Mary meeting Elizabeth. A wall over to the left of the painting is done in a checkerboard style, creating the illusion of great distance. In the background you can see the spire of Santa Maria Novella. Ghirlandaio, like many of the great artists, employed assistants to help with his works. It is believed that the 13-year-old Michelangelo likely did the small figures of three young men (rear views) leaning over a wall just above and to the left of Mary and Elizabeth.

To the other side of the altar is another lot of chapels, all frescoed, but these were not as well maintained, nor as interesting. There were a group of Americans there, with their guide, and one was pulling out his camera - to take a picture of the ceiling of one chapel (it was an impressive ceiling, blue and gold). It was just the effect he wanted for a ceiling he was having put into his home, he said. The guide did not point out that photos were not allowed and the American snapped away. No one came rushing up to stop him either! I bet if I'd pulled my camera out I would have been surrounded in minutes. Why is it that some people can get away with these things, and others can't?

I walked to the back of the church, where there are more paintings, (by not so well know artists, and nothing spectacular), and many tombs. I didn't recognise any of the names on them (those that I could read) and assume that they are the tombs of the wealthy patrons of this church. (Money, the bible says, won't get you into heaven, but it could get your earthly remains a choice spot for eternity in a great church it seems.)

At the very back of the church is a painting of Saint Catherine's vision, where she is receiving the ring from Christ, Mary and Mary Magdalene in attendance. I couldn't see who painted this, but a board showed pictures (before and after) to demonstrate how the painting had been restored. What had been a grey and dingy painting, with patches missing, is now a bright and colourful piece of art.

Finishing up in S.M.Novella, I went back to the Ponte Vecchio. The sun was now in the right spot to enable me to take some shots from the west side. Along with many others, I shot away, dodging traffic to find the right spot. After which, I set off for the 'Internet Point' to send my landlord an email, telling him of my connection difficulties. I arrived back home at 5.30 p.m. The phone rang at 5.45 p.m. It was my landlord to tell me he had arranged for a technician to fix the problem. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. It was the technician. With my limited Italian, and his better English, we managed to fix the problem and get me connected. I'm still reeling from the shock. And to think I thought Italy and Italians were so disorganised. It would never have happened that quickly in Australia!

I had an email from a friend who asked if I am thinking about packing yet. No! Still much to do and lots I want to see, but thoughts of home are coming more and more to mind now. Mainly, all the mail I'll have to catch up on ... it's tax time and I have to organise that ... I don't have a car and will need to organise that too ... people to see ... meetings to attend ... do I really have to go home?

This weekend will be 'rest at home' days. I need to do some cleaning and washing, and some more study. I signed up some time ago with an internet site that puts you in contact with others wanting to learn your language, and had a lovely email from a young Italian couple who come from Bologna, just north of Florence. She speaks very good English already (she spent 3 months in Ireland a few years ago) and he speaks understandable English. Much better than my Italian. We've spoken on Skype and plan to keep up the contact when I go back home so they can practise and improve their English, and I can do likewise with my Italian. They travelled to Australia for a holiday a couple of years ago, and loved it. Hopefully, they can go back for another visit one day soon.

Tuesday 10th October 2006

With just one week left of this trip, everything is down to the wire as the saying goes. So much yet I want to do but I don't want to rush anything so I'll just have to come back one day to see and experience some more. Yesterday was family chat day so I didn't want to go too far away and so walked around Florence again, and did some more shopping.

Today I went up to Fiesole, in the hills. I was there 10 years ago, with my daughters Ilana and Michelle, and wondered how much it had all changed. I set out early, and was it cold! Winter is definitely creeping closer. I didn't take a cardigan with me because I knew it would get warmer later and didn't want to be lumbered with having to carry it.

I thought I might take the Big Red Bus for this trip, and combine it with all the other 'touristy' things I haven't done yet in Florence. I should have realised that the buses didn't begin until 9.30a.m. and the one I wanted,didn't begin its first trip until 10.10a.m. The bus leaves from Santa Maria Novella Station, so I filled in the time buying my train ticket to Rome for Saturday, and then chatted to a young Canadian couple. He loves Rugby (Union) and follows the Australian games. He also wanted to talk about our soccer and AFL. I had to disappoint him because I hate watching sport, any sport! They only had 2 weeks holiday from work, that's all they get each year, as in the USA. I told them there would be a major strike in Australia if they tried to reduce our 4 weeks annual leave! They also go back home on Saturday. They told me about a place called Cinqueterre, or Cinque Terre (meaning 5 lands, actually 5 little fishing villages that one can walk between, although one or two of the walks are said to be a bit arduous) that they had visited that sounds wonderful. It has only just come onto the tourist map they said, so not too many people there - yet! Too far for me this trip, maybe next time. Next time too, Bologna (of Bolognese fame). I had looked at Bologna when I was researching my trip, but didn't want to spend time rushing from one place to the next; the idea this time was to spend quality time in one place.

The bus eventually arrived and we all piled on. There were Americans, French, Italian, English, Scottish, Irish, Canadian, and a few Australian voices amongst the mix. The young girl selling tickets on the bus was amazing - she spoke every language that came at her, and so fast too - she had no problems switching from Italian to English to French. I wouldn't have been at all surprised to hear her speak Japanese or one of the Chinese languages if someone from either of those countries had boarded. We set off through the gate of the city up into the hills, the natural walls of Florence, which lies nestled between them.

We drove past, and stopped near a lot of the places I had already visited but it was interesting to see them from a different angle. The drive up to Fiesole was lovely and we passed some very stately villas set in amongst some lovely green gardens. The views along the way were magnificient. A lot of these places were built by the English in the 19th century, when Florence was, for a few short years, the capital of Italy. Or so our plug-in ear set informed us. And of course, I suddenly realised, that explained the English Florin. We had passed the old mint, where the Florin was minted, earlier in our trip.

Fiesole was stop number 13 and I alighted to discover that I didn't remember anything of what I was seeing. Until I walked up a side street and came to the Archaelogical area and the Civic Museum. I don't remember it costing quite so much to enter (9 Euro) but I guess they need to pay for the continuing excavations and the upkeep somehow. Inside, much has changed but my visit was 10 years ago so I would have been surprised if there were no changes. The excavations were more extensive, and a lot of paths laid down, along with some gardens. But the breathtaking views were the same, even down to the haze over Florence! This doesn't really detract from the near views though.

The Roman Theatre, still only partially restored, and the Baths and the Temple, date back to the 1st century B.C. It is always amazing to walk in a place that once rang with the sounds of people doing much as we do today, working, laughing, loving, hating, living, dying. In the same grounds ican be found the Municipal Museum and the Antiquarium. Here you can find pieces found during the excavation of the site, pieces of pottery, statues, everyday items, marble slabs, coins, tombs, urns (with ashes still inside them!) and so on. Some of these are Roman, others are Etruscan. You can also walk through areas of partially excavated ruins that have been built over and glassed in. After touring these, I found a sunny spot in an area that appeared to have been excavated only recently, and had my lunch, before I left the grounds.

The bus only came up to Fiesole every hour; I had been there for almost one and a half hours so had a little time to fill in. There were plenty of places still to see, but they would take too long, so I had to decide to leave them. They too will have to remain for 'next time'. I wandered around the square and the little roads off it, finding some quaint little shops. One, from which I bought a couple of gifts, was run by a lovely lady who came to Italy from Germany over 10 years ago. She speaks fluent Italian and English, as well as her native tongue. It is so much easier for people living in Europe to acquire another language. The sun was very warm by this time and I looked smugly at those who were burdened with lots of coats and jackets. The sky was a brillian blue, not a puff of a cloud anywhere. The tables were filling up at the pavement cafes, and also at the restaurant and bar across the road. Over there, the patrons had the pleasure of being seated on a huge terrace that overlooked Florence and its hills - an amazing view. Large pots of bright flowers lined the square and these, combined with the many different coloured walls of the buildings gave the place a festive air.

Up the hill there was a monastery; I watched two brown robed monks climb the hill and considered going up to have a look but time was short. The bus was due, and I had another bus to take once I got back to Florence.

The bus for line A runs up to Piazzale Michelangelo. I had visited here last trip too, and remembered the fantastic views. A great photo opportunity. On the way, the bus took us past all the usual places, and again I saw them all from another angle, and also some little side streets I hadn't yet discovered. The Piazzale was packed, with people, stall holders and their wares, cars, buses ... but I managed to find a space at the wall to take a few photos. The haze over Florence was not so pronounced there, and the large domes, spires and the red rooftops, along with the bridges and the river, were all clear. Later, I wandered down to the lower level (I don't remember that being there last time) and took some more, then wandered over the road to buy a gelato. Here too the curbside was lined with tables and chairs, all of which were filled. The bus called here every 30 minutes, but I managed to find enough to do and see to fill in an hour. Five minutes before the bus was due, I was waiting at the stop.Nearby was a taxi, its driver dozing in his seat. There was a tiny section at the back of the car sectioned off, and in that section was a tiny dog - that driver apparently took his dog to work with him! Can you imagine if a taxi driver did that in Australia? A pity, because it's so nice to think that the poor dog wasn't left home alone.

On the way back down to the city, we passed the church of San Spirito. I hadn't visited there, and won't have time to, but I believe that the young Michelangelo used a small room there to do his disections of the human body. He gave the monks a gift to thank them, a wooden cross that he carved when he was still a very young man. This is an early 'Pieta' and worth having a look at. Again, this one will be for 'next time'. (I'm making sure that there are lots of things for me to come back to see so that there will have to be a next time!)

Thursday 12th October 2006

My last 'excursion' in Italy is over. I am of course a little sad but now beginning to think more of home and getting a little excited about returning there.

I set out a little later than I expected (8 a.m.) because I have been having some problems with my webmail service. I knew that there were regular buses to Poggibonsi though (where one has to change for a bus to San Gimignano) so wasn't worried. THe bus I was to take was to leave at 8.40 a.m. however, for some strange reason it left early, at 8.30! Along with a Canadian couple, I got off in Poggibonsi; the driver told us our connecting bus would be along in cinque minuti (5 minutes) and departed back to Florence. The Canadian couple and I got chatting to pass the time. Fifteen minutes later, another bus arrived, from Florence and on its way to Siena. More people got off to wait for the San Gimignano bus. A few more from Poggibonsi joined us and we became quite a friendly little group.

Another 15 minutes went by - along with another bus for Florence - and there were some rumblings from the Texans, but before a full scale riot erupted, our bus finally arrived. We all piled on, almost a tourist group in ourselves, and chatted for the 10 minutes or so that the trip too. (San Gimignano is not a large place and for the rest of the day we kept bumping into various members of that 'group', exchanging greetings each time as if we were long lost friends!)

All of my excursions from Florence have been wonderful (although perhaps not Pisa) but San Gimignano is something special. Yes, it is all tourists, but the little city and its shops and medieval ways, and its people, more than make up for the crowds. I had deliberately not gone there on a Thursday, their market day, because I knew that the crowds would be worse then. The bus deposited us at Porta San Giovanni, one of the gates of the city. The towers (there used to be 72 I read, but 14 remain today) jut above the city skyline. The streets are pedestrian only (except for locals, deliveries, post and so on), cobbled and narrow, lined with tall old stone buildings, which are a mix of dwellings and shops. Some of the shops had typical trourist stuff (junk in other words) but most have good quality things for sale.

San Gimignano is set on a hill, and the main piazza is at the top, so a little upward walking is involved. The tourist info stop is at the top, so instead of heading there first, I wandered into the shops that lined Via San Giovanni and eventually came to a little bar, where I stopped for coffee and a danish. (It was just 10.30 a.m. so I was just within the time limit Italians see as an acceptable time to drink cappuccino.)

After my little break, which also involved some people watching, and some photo opportunities, I explored more shops and eventually worked my way to Piazza Della Cisterna. In the middle of this large square there is an ancient well (13th century), which is worth a look, although I had to push through the crowd that surrounded it, and those seated beside it.

The piazza was alive with people, walking, taking photos, sitting around the well, or seated at bright red-checked cloth covered tables at the restaurant. The Duomo and the information stop was just around the corner, on Piazza Duomo. After collecting my usual free map, I set off to explore the rest of the city. There are churches to see, museums to visit, and a tower (200 feet) to climb, but I decided against these, and set off for Rocca. These are formerly Florentine style fortifications - walls and gates, slitted 'windows' to allow arrows to rain down while reducing the chance of the same being delivered inside the walls by enemies. Most of it is in ruin now, but enough remain to enclose a small space that serves as a garden. From the entrance there are sweeping views, of the rooftops of San Gimignano, and the grey-brown walls of its buildings.

Inside, a woman, dressed in bright orange and wearing a straw hat, was strumming a guitar and singing Tuscan folk songs. (She had such a lovely voice that I later bought one of her CDs.) In the middle of the grassy area is a well, surrounded by old olive trees. The sun shone from a sky of soft blue, and the light reflecting off the silver side of the olive tree leaves cast a dazzling light over the whole area. A magical place. As I was about to leave, I noticed some old stairs that led up to what was once a tower on the wall. There were people up there so I climbed up (those ancient people must have had long legs because it some of the steps are quite high), knowing that the view would be worth it. And it was, but so sweeping that no photo could do the whole justice. I took snaps of sections of it though, if only to aid my memory.

I left Rocca and continued exploring the city, especially the old medieval side streets, where one could discover little places selling foodstuffs, or coffee beans, or jewellery. Shopkeepers sat outside their stores and gossiped with their neighbours, busy women shook bed sheets and coverings out of the windows, others leant out and chatted, or just viewed the crowds below.

Down one little side street I found a silversmith, a pleasant young man who loves his work and enjoys talking about it. His shop was so tiny only one person could enter at a time, but he had display cases on the wall outside so passersby could see his work. His girlfriend ran the shop for him and I only met him because he called by in his motorised wheel chair. Obviously his workshop was elsewhere. I liked his work so much I actually bought a couple of pieces.

By the time I'd seen all that I wanted to see of San Gimignano, it was getting late, or so my stomach was telling me, so I walked back down to the gate I'd come in by, to the trattoria I'd read about in my guidebook. Unfortunately it was closed, so I I walked outside the gate to see what might be there, and found another little trattoria that looked quite nice. And it was. I had a large plate of tagliatelle ai fungh porcini, bread, and a glass of vino rosso, all for 9 Euro, which was quite reasonable.

After my late lunch, I wandered around the large square, taking more photos and admiring the view, to fill in some time before my bus, which surprisingly came on time. There was no wait in Poggibonsi this time - the Firenze bus pulled up just behind ours - so in no time at all I was back 'home', well satisfied with my day.

Friday 13th October 2006

My last day in Florence. Tomorrow I leave for Rome; on Sunday I take a flight to Hong Kong and then on to Australia. I went out for a final walk around my favourite places in Forence this morning but my heart wasn't in it. Last days never sit well with me - once the time has come to move on I'm in a hurry to get going. And I hate saying goodbye. The streets were filled with people this morning, a number of tourist groups appear to have arrived in town, so it wasn't a quiet leave taking.

What will I miss about Italy? The musical sound of the Italian language (they can even make an argument sound good!); the tasty food; the history that awaits around every corner; the feeling of continuance - of being just one in a long long of people who have lived in this place; the red roofs of Florence, and the bright gardens perched on top; the sun reflecting off the silver leaves of the olive trees; the green green mountains; and of course, the many lovely people I met here. I shall even miss the traffic, the hundreds of scooters that dart about like mosquitoes, the tiny little three-wheeled vehicles, with their miniscule cabins and almost as small tray backs. I think too that I will miss the 'dot-and-go-one' method of walking the tiny streets here - hopping off and onto the narrow walkway to dodge pedestrians and motor vehicles alike.

But, it's time to go home, and there are many things that I am looking forward to there. Family and friends, of course, but also my home, my gardens, my chickens, the possums, the birds and so on ... This particular travel journal has thus come to an end. Thank you all for joining me on my travels ... I hope you enjoyed reading about them as much as I did living them.



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