My Journal

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September 2006

7th September 2006

I've been here in Montegufoni, commune di Montespertoli, for almost 2 weeks now. In its remoteness, and its lack of population and services, it reminds me very much of Murphys Creek, where I live in Australia. The only difference in the landscape is in the grape vines, (but not in the olive trees because we have those in Murphys Creek), and the gentle swell of the hills, not forgetting the wild apple and pear trees that line some of the roads. At least, I hope they were roads - hopefully they weren't driveways to villas. If so, they don't worry overmuch about the fruit because there was a lot of windfall lying about. So far, I have only had to buy bananas in the way of fruit. There are also the blackberries. These have virtually finished fruiting but I still find the odd section missed by others - and the birds - and have managed a few feasts on them. Then there are the herbs. When I first went to the local shop I was surprised to discover that they don't sell fresh herbs. The little man there looked at me a bit strangely when I asked. I thought it was my Italian, but have since discovered that herbs grow wild here. Fennel is particularly thick along the roadways and its distinctive licorice smell is evident as I break a piece off. Mint and Rosemary and thyme also grow wild and just brushing by them releases a heavenly fragrance. The sun has grown too hot I guess for basil and parsley, or else they are tucked away in places I haven't found.

My visit to Florence last week resulted in my buying 6 books, from an English bookshop that I spotted when I was last there. Two have been read and I hope that the remaining four will last me for the coming week. Florence is still crowded with tourists but by the time I return there these should have slowed to a trickle. While I was there I walked by the appartment I have booked for my last four weeks in Italy and was pleased to find that it is very central - not too far from the bus and train station and well within reach of all that I want to visit, see and do.

Apart from reading, sitting by the pool in the afternoon when the weather is warmer, catching up on my writing, and walking the hills, I am revising the Italian I learnt at Poppi. The danger with any newly learned language, of course,is that you have to keep using it or you will forget it. I had hoped to be using it in my daily life here but I guess that will have to wait until I get to Florence; apart from the little man at the local 'Alimentary' in Montagnana, the nearest little hamlet where one can buy emergency stuff (but no bank), the only people I speak to are the occasional ones I pass on my walks - and all we have to say to each other is a cordial 'buon giorno' or 'buona sera' depending on the time of day! I do have a television set in my cottage, which was exciting at first. I thought it would be an ideal way to improve my Italian language listening skills but I discovered that while it received satellite reception, the shows it brings are German! I do receive the CNN news channel, unfortunately in English! and I try to watch that each evening so that I can keep up with what is happening in the world. Not that I've missed knowing up until now - I've virtually been without news for the past 4 months - but the time for my return home is approaching and I thought I should begin to 'catch up' as it were. Nothing much has changed - it's still mostly depressing news, and I was saddened to hear of the tragic death of Steve Irwin.

The weather continues to be fine, although very hazy in the mornings until the sun burns it away around mid morning. The skies remain blue and the temperature, although cold in the late evenings and early mornings, reaches the high 20's each day, but only for a short while. I can feel the definite nip of autumn's fingers in the air! The grapes are ripening fast on the vines and the smell of them is heavy in the air. The sound of gunfire is constant, if irregular. Of course, they are not really guns - they are whatever the grape growers have set up to scare away the birds, who fight amongst themselves and feast on the grapes. Their shrill noise abates only until the echoes of the shots fade away, then they begin again.

10th September 2006

It's Sunday and I'm down to my last 5 days in Montefugoni. The harvest has begun and each day the sound of machinery fills the air, competing with the birds who still squabble over the fruit, having become imume to the noise of the gunshots. Trucks and tractors trundle by on the street outside, heading down to the winery where men unload crate after crate of ripe black grapes into the yawning mouths of stainless steel silos. The air around there is sweet and heavy with the scent of rotting grapes and sugar; one could almost become intoxicated just by breathing it in, which I have to do everytime I walk by it. Because it's on my way to Montagnana, I walk by often. Alongide the silos, where all the local grapes come, is a retail outlet where one can buy wines.

I'm down to my last English novel. There are a couple here in Italian and I have tried to read them but my language skills are not up to that standard. I do get an idea of what is going on in them but it's such slow going, especially for me, who who doesn't 'read words' as much as I 'absorb' them. In Italian, this is impossible for me and reading becomes a chore, rather than a joy.

Thursday 14 September 2006

Tomorrow I pack and clean ready to leave here on Saturday morning. I went into Montespertoli this morning and did my last shopping there, and said goodbye to the bus driver, who I've come to know quite well! He's been so kind, speaking slowly to me and using simple language, giving me the illusion that I speak fluent Italian. BUt when I overhear conversations I only pick up words here and there; I'll have to wait until I know more of the tenses before I can claim any fluency.

The lovely weather has at last broken and today it's overcast and much cooler. We've had a little rain but only drizzle. I know that they are looking for rain because it has been so dry here. I didn't have the heart to say that when it's dry here it's good for us in Australia, because that's when it rains there. And so it has my daughter tells me - 3 rain guages full - so it should be nice and green in Murphys Creek when I return in 5 weeks or so. My daughter asked me when we last spoke if I was looking forward to coming home. The short a answer is 'yes' but the longer one is 'no'; I do miss family and friends but know that this will be the last time I will make such a lengthy trip away from home so I don't want to think of it ending just yet - time enough for that the week before I leave Italy.

I'm looking forward to Florence. My four weeks there will give me time to see everything and also to visit Pisa and Sienna, which are not that far away. I'll also have the luxury of the internet, which I have certainly missed! Hopefully I'll also be able to continue learning more about the Italian language.

Monday 18th September 2006

I said goodbye to Montegufoni on Saturday. It was a bleak overcast day and I arrived in Florence to heavy rain. The crowds appear to have thinned a little - or perhaps the rain kept them indoors - and so I didn't experience any problems getting to Via del Porcellana 26. (The footpaths bordering the road from the station are narrow and pulling a suitcase along is awkward if these are crowded.) Via del Porcellana is a little one way, cobbled street whose centre is a little higher than its sides. The 'footpaths' here are about a foot wide with one side of the road lined with parked motorbikes. The backs of these hang over the path, making it impossible for a pedestrian to use it. With my suitcase it was impossible to use the path on the other side either, so I had to walk down the middle of the road. Luckily no cars appeared and I made it unscathed to number 26 - blue 26 I noted because in Florence each number is duplicated, either red or blue; red numbers are for business premises, blue for residential. Manouvering my case between the bikes and onto the step of the appartment block was a problem but I finally managed it without knocking any bikes down - but for a moment I had a mental image of knocking one down and the rest following on like dominoes - and there I stood, waiting for the landlord who had arranged to meet me there with the key. For secruity reasons, One needs a key for the entry door as well as a key for appartments. There are buzzers for each appartment so a visitor needs to buzz to gain entry.

While I waited, I observed the street and the comings and goings of those few people who were out and about. Now and again a car appeared, and a few motorbikes and bicycles, but these were few and far between. Looking down to the left I could see, here and there, people standing in their doorways, leaning against the jambs. I guessed, correctly it turned out, that these were business premises, antique shops and the like; shopworkers here in Italy lounge in their doorways when they have no customers. They call out to their neighbours, gossiping or holding what seem to be long debates, and in most cases, smoking endless cigarettes. In the country villages, they have stools, chairs or benches outside their premises where they sit to enjoy the sun, the conversation, and the comings and goings of the people in the streets.

I didn't have long to wait before Giovanni and his bambini Matteo arrived with the keys. Once into the foyer, we spent a little time at the electricity meter, where we both checked the reading (my usage will be deducted from my deposit when I leave) and discussed ways in which to keep costs down. Electricity costs 50 cents - about 90 australian cents - a unit here, which is rather expensive. Giovanni speaks only a little English but with my limited Italian we managed. Then it was time to tackle the stairs. Like all buildings in Florence, this one is very old. The stairs are of stone, worn down in the centre from the tread of many feet. If only they could speak, what tales would they tell? The banisters are iron and they, along with the stairs, give off a cold and ancient odour. I see that the stairs are wider than I expected, and they don't curve away at the top as I had seen on the website for this place. My heart sank a bit at that - the appartment had looked so nice in the pictures and I began to wonder if it had been misrepresented.

We begin to climb and I daren't ask how far up it is. I know from the description on the website, which promised views of the roofs of the city, that it must be near the top - unless the pictures had been a lie. Luckily for me Giovanni takes my suitcase, leaving me with a smaller bag and my laptop, which have increased in weight by the time we have climbed 50 stairs. We stop at the 9th landing and I glance up and see that there is just one more landing above me. A wooden door is on our left and Giovanni opens this - it leads to a small foyer, with a large wooden door ahead and another on our left. I am told that the door ahead is mine, the other is to another appartment. When the door to my appartment is opened I see that there is another flight of stone stairs to climb, this one narrow, curving at the top, and I realise that this is what I had seen on the website. There are no banisters here, just the walls closing in on either side, and I carefully climb 14 stairs to the top, breathing a sigh of relief when I emerge into the kitchen-dining room I had seen in the pictures. Off the kitchen is the bed-sitting room which, apart from a comfortable double bed and the usual robe and chest of drawers, contained a desk complete with computer! A TV and DVD player, and a fax and phone sat atop the chest of drawers. Just off the bedroom is the bathroom, with everything one expects to find in a bathroom!(See pics of the Santa Maria Novella appartment at www.appartmentsflorenceappartments.eu)

Giovanni spent some time explaining the workings of everything to me - from stove, washing machine, air conditioner, vacuum cleaner and microwave to TV, DVD and computer, how the windows worked, where to find the nearest supermarket to where to take the garbage. (In Italy, residents take their garbage to central collection points for each area. These are large 'dumpsters' that sit in the streets and squares.) Leaving me his phone number (I already had his email address) Giovanni handed me the keys, wished me a pleasant stay, and he and Matteo departed. (Giovanni and his wife and children live in Arezzo, so I won't see him again until I check out in 4 weeks time.)

I spent the next couple of hours unpacking and checking out the cupboards. In the bedroom I found enough fresh linen to last for the full 4 weeks, and in the pantry all the basic food items, from breakfast cereal, pasta and rice, to oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, various condiments and herbs. There was even a good stock of coffee and tea! Then it was technology time and I set up my laptop and tried to connect to the internet with no success. The internet here, although broadband, is through the phone lines. Not normally a problem - my connection at home is ADSL - but here in Italy it can be. No matter what I tried it would not work through my laptop. I would have to work on the appartments computer, which means a lot of doublehandling when it comes to uploading to my website. The computer here also doesn't have skype but that could be remedied later. It was nearly 4pm so time to visit the supermarket. (In Italy, most shops and businesses close down between 1pm and 4pm for siesta.)

Before going to the supermarket, I spent an hour walking around the neighbourhood, just to check it out and get a feel for it. It's also my way of getting a feel for direction so that no matter which way I approach this area I can find my way down any street to home. It is overcast but the rain has stopped. There are a couple of nice pizzas nearby, and the Arno is a 5 minute stroll away. When I reached the river, I looked to my left and there, two bridges down, is the Ponte Vecchio. In this cloudy light it looks a dull yellow but I know from my visit 10 years ago that in the sun it will look bright yellow and pink; I can clearly see the crowds that are moving over it. I'd like to join them but decide to leave that for another day. Along the banks of the river on the other side stretch row upon row of tall appartment blocks, all red and pink, washing strung on lines hung from windows here and there.

The supermarket is a 5 minute walk away from the appartment in the other direction. Using only a basket, I collected enough to last me for 3 days and pay the usual outrageous sum at the checkout. I pay the equivalent of $50 for some milk, cheese and yoghurt; tomatoes, lettuce, herbs, soup vegetables, a handful of grapes and two bananas; a packet of biscuits, a tin of tuna, one chicken breast, 4 strips of proscuitto and 6 eggs. I know I've been away from home for almost 6 months, but I'm reasonably sure that those items would have cost me less than $25 in Australia. (If any Australian reader of this is planning a trip overseas, when it comes to your budget for food, double whatever you think it will cost and you won't be too far out.)

Back 'at home' I spent a relaxing evening, reading and catching up on my email. I went to sleep with only the sounds of the rain falling on the roof, pleasantly surprised to discover that this area is very quiet at night, so quiet in fact that leaving the window open, as I like to do, was not a problem. My bed is very comfortable and I felt very safe and secure behind so many locked doors. I slept well and woke at 7am. Autumn is setting in here and that, combined with the cloud, kept the light down.

Sunday was a very lazy day. As planned, I stayed in and caught up with washing, uploading my journal and pictures to my site, listening to the Italian radio, cooking soup and risotto (to counter the evening autumn chill), and reading. I also downloaded Skype to the computer here so that I can talk to friends and family in Australia. The cost for doing so on my mobile (public phones are few and far between in the countryside - in fact, I only ever saw one) have been astronomical. I hadn't wanted to go to the expense of buying an Italian SIM card so had kept my UK one. However, whenever anyone called me, I paid for the call from the UK to here in Italy. It took 2 1/2 hours to fly here, so only half the distance of Perth/Sydney, which led me to believe that it couldn't possibly be too expensive, but my 10 pounds credit was used up within 15 minutes! That's about $20!

Once I had Skype downloaded, I did the test but had no luck hearing a thing. It took me a couple of hours to locate the problem and to reconfigure the computer here, and crawl around under the desk trying different plug in's for the hardware, so the earphone and microphone would work. It took me so long mainly because the computer here only 'speaks' Italian to me! Oh well, it was all good practice for my language skills.

This morning - Monday - I spoke via Skype (free!!) to my daughter Ilana, and caught up with all that is happening in Murphys Creek and Toowoomba. Then it was time for family chat, which I had missed since coming to Italy. (See our family website at www.rsgraham.com) It was great to catch up with the news from my brothers and sisters.

After lunch I set out to explore the Ponte Vecchio. The rain had gone, the clouds had cleared, and the sky was blue. I had seen from visits to websites that many of the museums are closed on Mondays, and besides I would need a full day at each of those I wanted to visit, so they could wait for another day. The bridge was crowded and I had to fight for a position at each shop window. Not a jewellery person - the most I wear is a watch - I wasn't quite sure what I was looking at, but I do know that real gold does not shine brightly, and real silver is rather dull. Everything I looked at sparkled and shone! The stones were similar, but then real diamonds do sparkle, don't they? If one judged by the price tags, everything was real. I still had my doubts though and was thankful that I wasn't there to actually buy anything. Perhaps another day. I do have some souvenirs to buy but perhaps something in Sienna or Lucca will appeal more to my taste, and my purse! There are also so many little shops and stalls around Florence that I'm sure to come across something during my weeks here.

Having seen all that the Ponte Vecchio had to offer, I headed up through the Piazza della Signoria, which was as usual very crowded. Here is where the citizens gather for all great events i the life of Florence, and where the tourists come to peer at the statues (the copy of Michaelangelo's David is here) that stand around the square. I continued on past the Uffizi Gallery and the Palazzo Vecchio (a fortress like palace that serves as the City Hall) and down to the Palazzo Gondi. JUst beyond there, in a little side street that is lined with leather shops, is McRae's bookshop and I spent a happy hour there selecting four books which I hope will last me for a couple of weeks. A slow stroll back home through some little side- streets, where I found a little alimentary and bought some vino rosso, took me through some quaint little piazzas, where some of the locals had come out to enjoy the early evening sunshine. With 'buona sieras' falling behind me, I headed back to my appartment for an evening of soup and red wine, and a good book.

Wednesday 19th September 2006

Oh my aching feet! I spent yesterday walking the streets of Florence, checking out where each of the museums I want to visit are and making plans on what to see and do first. Today, I set out at 8.30 and walked to the Pitti Palace, home of the Medici family, arriving there at 8.40. After paying my entrance fee - 8 Euro - I entered the courtyard through the inevitable security screen. My plan was to visit the villa first, to check out some of the exhibitions there, and then to spend the rest of the day in the Boboli gardens.

The Galleria del Costume was most interesting. As well as an extensive display of clothing down through the ages (at least, the clothing of the wealthy) there were displays of porcelain, jewellery, paintings, statues, stonework and much much more. But the most interesting for me were the burial clothes of Eleonora, Cosimo 1 de'Medici and Giovanni, their son. They lived and died in the 16th Century. Eleonora died at the reasonably young age of 49, from consumption, just 3 days after her favourite son Giovanni died at Pisa, from malaria. He had been just 15. (She had given birth to 11 children.) Apparently the graves of all three Medici's were opened to relocate the contents and it was decided to remove the clothing and try to conserve it. Up until that time it was believed that the clothing was specially made for the purpose of burial, but this was not so - they were obviously everyday wear - in Eleonora's case, they were well worn clothes. The restoration process was fairly successful and the clothing is kept in special glass containers in rooms with special lighting to conserve them.

It was after 10am by the time I finished looking through the palace. I went back down to the courtyard and along to the bar, where I enjoyed morning tea before a quick visit to the bookshop; I can never pass a bookshop without at least having a look!

The Ammannati courtyard is closed off on three sides of the inner facades of the palace. On the fourth side is a 17th Century Grotto, in whose centre rises the colossal porphyry statue of Moses, its base immersed in an elliptical basin. Entry to the grotto was cordoned off but it was possible to view most of it from the outside. The fountain was turned on and the sound of it splashing into the pool echoed eerily in the empty chamber. It was dim inside but I could make out statues in niches around the walls, and the heavily decorated walls and ceiling. To the right of the grotto was the entry to the Boboli Gardens and I showed my ticket and began to climb the long ramp. To greet me at the top was the Amphitheatre, designed by Giulio Parigi and completed in 1634. A large, ancient granite basin sits in the foreground; behind this is a tall Egyptian Obelisk, and rising upward behind these are the gardens. Behind me was the Fontana del Carciofo (The Artichoke Fountain), the work of Francesco Susini.

My guidebook says that the garden complex of Boboli..."constitues one of the most ezquisite, perhaps grandest, example of those designs which have contributed to forging in the collective consciousness the image of the consumate garden alla italiana". The gardens, monuments and statures of Boboli are an 'outdoor museum' and the present day complex is the result of the union of the hill-side garden beyond Eleonora's Villa with an expanse of land that was once used for agriculture. The whole is bordered by the ramparts that Cosimo 1 built during the war against Siena (1546-48), the 14th century wall, the Roman Gate, and the houses in Via Romana. (The name 'Boboli' comes from a term used in the late middle ages to indicate wooded areas.)

From 10.30 until 3pm I wandered the gardens, finding treasures everywhere I looked. (I did go back to the courtyard at 1pm, for lunch, but the little bar there was crowded with not a table or seat to be had, so I made do with some water, and returned to the gardens.) I pass two Roman statues, an Emperor and a togaed citizen, and in the centre, Ceres, a Roman copy of the original Greek statue. Or maybe it's a copy of a copy, for my guidebook tells me that in order to safeguard the statues from degradation by atmospheric agents and vandalism, the originals are often housed indoors and are replaced with copies for display. Further up is a pool and in its centre a statue of Neptune brandishing his trident. He is surrounded by demi-gods, also bronzed, and ducks - living birds - who have made their home on his isle.

I walked up to the Kaffeehaus (a pavillion that was used as a resting place for the Court during their walks through the gardens) and took some photos of Florence, which was spread out below like a patchwork quilt. From there, I continued on to The Knights Garden, from where I took some more photos of wonderful views, this time of the countryside. I met a couple there from Sydney, who obligingly took a photo of me!

Cypress Lane is a wide, long path, lined as its name implies with cypress trees, leads down to the Island Pond. Flanking the lane is La Cerchiata (Lattice-work), where a long line of holm-oaks have been pruned to form a continuous 'tunnel'. Taking the right hand Cerchiata, I walk down to the Upper Botanical Garden and sit on one of the many chairs there to admire the aquatic-plant pools and enjoy a little rest. The early cloud has cleared away and the sun is out, making the day warmer than I had expected. There are quite a lot of visitors to the gardens but they are so large that most of the time I am alone for long periods of time, wherever I am.

After my little rest, I continue on to Vasca dell'Isola (The Island Pond), which stands in the centre of a square, which is bordered by a tall espalier of hedge and holm-oak with numberous niches holding 17th century statues, mostly from the Florentine school my guidebook says, and nearly all depicting peasants or hunters. Rising from the water is Perseus and Andromeda while in the Island's centre is the Fontana dell'Oceano (Ocean Fountain by Giambologna)There are walkways leading out to the island but the gates leading to these are locked. My guidebook says that access is only possible in May and June.

After a quick visit to Limonaia (Lemon House), which is currently housing a contemporary art display (which did nothing for me), I headed down to Bacchus Square. Here there is a statue of the Dwarf Morgante, called 'Bacchus' by Florentines, depicted by Valerio Cioli astride a turtle. (MY guidebook says that this is a copy - the original is stored elsewhere for safekeeping.) Just beyond here is my last stop, at Grotta del Buontalenti (Grand Grotto). Like the other grottos in the garden, this is not open. (The Grottos are opened only upon special authorisation it seems.) But I am able to view it through the barred entrance. The work is certainly detailed but it all has a nighmarish quality, with figures of people and animals struggling to emerge from the walls, in which they seem to have been trapped. There are frescoes here and there on the walls and on the ceiling, which seems to be blue but it's hard to see it clearly in the gloom. Perhaps it looks better inside, and with more lighting. My guidebook says that the circular opening in the vault was "once filled by a hollow crystal ball with fish swimming in it. Water apparently once gushed forth from enscrustations throughout the walls, creating spectacular effects as the wet materials glistened in all they chromatic glory."

So my visit came to an end. There was more to see, but my feet had had enough, and my stomach thought my throat had been cut! It was 3.30pm before I managed to have lunch but the wait was worth it. I saw a lot more of the Boboli Gardens than I have described here, but I don't want to bore my readers so will leave the rest for my private diary. I have posted some pics to my album and you can check them out if you want to know more. (I took over 150 pics! I just love digital cameras.) Tomorrow is a rest day; I think I've earned it, so no more from me until the weekend.

Saturday 23rd September 2006

Thursday was a rest day but that doesn't mean I stay inside all day - that would be such a waste. I do go out but don't do a lot of walking. There are enough interesting places around here for me to look at, and I make sure I sit down a lot so my foot still gets a rest. Like a 'temporary local' I sit in sun drenched piazzas and watch the world pass by. During my walks I pass lots of little workshops around the narrow cobbled laneways near my appartment, men working with leather and some artists chipping away at statues - mostly for gardens I think. They are all very nice and after we exchange 'buon giorno's' I ask, 'posso guardare' (may I look) and they nod and welcome me in. This sometimes means just inside the door because the workrooms are very tiny and often crowded with equipment, half finished stuff, boxes of supplies and so on. Depending on what the craftsman is doing, there is a bench or two, and a stool. One man had a little dog with him, a companion for him during his solitary work. I itched to take a photo but was shy about asking and so didn't. I didn't want to offend, and I was worried that he might think I was wanting to take photos of his work and steal his ideas!

Yesterday was the day I had planned on walking up to San Lorenzo, built by the Medici. But something happened along the way - I got lost! That is never a bad thing in a place like Florence because one never knows what one will come across. I was okay up until the Duomo (Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore) and stopped there to admire the Gates of Paradise and the bronze doors of the church and took a few photos before moving on. (The Duomo visit is for another day.) That's where I went wrong. The church of San Lorenzo is only 5 minutes walk from the Duomo but I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up on the other side of Florence, in a maze of tiny laneways. I'm always aware, as I walk these tiny streets, that I am walking the same streets that Michelangelo, Da Vinci and Botticelli walked. After awhile, I found myself at the Museo Nazionale del Bargello and decided that it was the museum I was supposed to visit that day.

Before going in to look at the statues, I sat in the courtyard and read up about the building. When it was built, in 1255, it was used as a police station (hence the name, Bargello). Later it was a prison. On the walls of the courtyard there are many coats-of-arms. The soaring arches that cover the inner sections, along the walls of the three sided building, are painted in patterns of blue and yellow. Around the walls stand a legion of statues, all by lesser known artists. Most are larger than life and one is awed to think that they were chipped and coaxed from a single block of stone. I am reminded of Michaelangelo's recorded approach to sculpting, that he wasn't creating a figure, he was liberating it from the stone. In each piece I looked for the hidden frame to find the centre of the piece and was amazed all over again. After seeing all that the courtyard had to offer, it was time to climb the old stairs to the first floor.

In the room to the right at the top of the stairs I found examples of Donatello's work - Niccolo da Uzzano; S.Giorgio; David. The earlier statue of David (1408) is unimpressive; this man looks too soft, too boyish to have brought down a giant. There doesn't seem to be any spirit in him at all. The second David (1430) is more to my liking. This David is naked, although wearing boots and a helmet, and is cast in bronze. However, he is still very boyish, and a little effeminate. The stance reminds me of Michaelangelo's David and I read in my guidebook that this particular Donatello stood in the Medicis' palace, where Michelangelo, practically an adopted son, grew up admiring it. I also see shades of Michelangelo's David in Donatello's S.Giorgio (Saint George, slayer of dragons).

Also in this room are two bronze panels depicting Abraham sacrificing Isaac. One panel was by Ghiberti and the other by Brunelleschi. They were both entries in a competition to decide who would be commissioned to make the bronze doors of the Bapistery. There wasn't much between them but Ghiberti won of course; Brunelleschi would go on to design and create the dome itself.Luca della Robbia's terra-cotta Relief Panels of Mary and baby Jesus, with accompanying angels, are on the walls of this room. He was the undisputed master of painted, glazed porcelain.

To get to the next floor I passed from one side of the building to the other, through rooms filled with religious terra-cotta panels by other members of the della Robbia family, and works by other lesser know artists. There are rooms filled with armour, medallions, knives, swords, guns, and much more. None of this interested me so I moved on upstairs to see Verrocchio's David. Verrocchio was the major sculpter between Donatello and Michelangelo, and was teacher to Da Vinci. His David looks more like a shepherd boy and is very small. I see nothing in him that might have inspired Michelangelo's David. There are other rooms on this floor, filled with jewellery and ivories and so on.

Downstairs I visited the last room in the Bargello, where three of Michelangelo's lesser works are displayed. First there is Bacchus, who looks decidely dissolute with his drunken stance and his pot belly. There is also an unfinished David (also known as Appollo) that is reminiscent of those of Donatello and Verrocchio's and so much different from his larger than life version. There is also a bust of Michelangelo, sculpted by his fellow artist da Volterra, but the most interesting piece in this room, for me is that of Brutus - yes, that Brutus, as in et tu...? One side of the face is rather pleasing, smiling and looking very dignified. But move to the other side, the hidden side, and you will see a different man whose face is pulled down, who looks shifty and untrustworthy.

With my visit to the Bargello at an end, and it being long past my lunch time, I set out to find something to eat, but I was waylaid by a group collecting for the community's fight against drugs so there went my 5 Euros for lunch. I made do with a large drink of water and spent another hour or so wandering the streets around the Bargello, listening to a man playing the violin (quite well too) on one corner, and sitting in a tiny piazza watching groups of tourists scurrying around after tour guides, obviously doing the "Florence in Two Days" thing. I ended up in the Piazza della Signoria, which is a happening place and always good for a place to sit and just observe.

Friday was a 'rest day' but I did my usual walk around the neighbourhood and spent an hour or so in the Piazza della Repubblica, at the centre of Florence. This morning, Saturday, I set out to find the market for my fresh food shopping, and another supermarket I'd found out about. It took a couple of hours but I arrived home with enough food for a week at least, and only spent the equivalent of $40, so it seems that living in Florence can be economical if you just shop around. My foot is a bit swollen so I think I'll stay in - no walks even around the neighbourhood - for the weekend. Next week I want to go to Sienna and to San Gimignano, as well as squeeze in another couple of museums.

Thursday 28th September 2006

Where is the time going? (If I were a science fiction writer I could have some fun with that thought!) Sunday was another stay at home day and I spoke to some of my family via Skype. What a wonderful invention that is; it's great to chat as long as I like without having to worry about the cost of the call. Monday was another fairly lazy day, with family chat and another Skype call in the morning, and a leisurely walk in the later afternoon.

On Tuesday, I set out once again for San Lorenzo. This time I avoided the pull of the magnificient pink, green and white marble walls of the Duomo and took the turn immediately before it. This time I didn't take any wrong turns and ended up just where I wanted to be, at the Cappelle Medicee (Medici Chapels). Here are found the tombs of Florence's great ruling family, from Lorenzo the Magnificent to those less so. One of the chapels was designed by Michelangelo. My guide book says that this chapel was under his complete control. His statues are "a middle-aged man's brooding meditation on mortality, the fall of the Medici Golden Age, and the relentless passage of time - from Dawn to Day to Dusk to Night."

The Crypt was a dark and gloomy place and smelt of death and decay - or perhaps that was my imagination. But it was musty and walking over gravestones was not a pleasant experience for it is a solid reminder that no matter how 'great' we might be during our lifetime, we all end up in the same place. The voices of all who were in there with me were hushed and sombre. I didn't stay in there for long!

La Cappella dei Principi (The Chapel of Princes) was a bit more impressive. It's an octagonal room and the tombs here line the walls, along with the Medici coat of arms. (They were once a family of doctors - thus medici - and their coat of arms reflects this for it contains six large 'balls' which my guidebook tells me depicts pills!) Here there are many different coloured marble, jasper, porphyry, quartz, alabaster, coral, mother-of-pearl and lapis lazuli. Sixteen shields are set on the walls at eye level (well, I'm shortish so just above my eye level). These depict the Tuscan cities that were ruled by Florence's dukes. Florence is there (fleur-de-lis). There are bronze statues and an altar, which my knowledgeable guidebook says was finished in 1939 for a visit from Hitler and Mussolini. Apart from these later items nothing in this room screams Religion or Christian; the symbolism here points to power and wealth.

The Sagrestia Nuova (New Sacristy) is a much more interesting place. This is the chapel that was designed by Michelangelo - the entire room was his, the building, the tombs and the statues, and the place was specifically built to house the bodies of four of the Medici family. (As I think I mentioned earlier in this journal, Michelangelo spent his teen years with the Medici family and he would have personally known those who were to be buried in this room, so it would no doubt have been an emotional project for the artist.)

I didn't know much about the works in here so my thanks to Rick Steves' "Florence and Tuscany 2005". This is an excellent guide for the visitor and it contains a lot of information about particular artworks and artists that has been invaluable to me, particularly as the texts accompanying artworks in almost every museum in Florence are in Italian. There do not seem to be any English translations, something that the Italian tourist board should address at their earliest opportunity!

The first tomb I visit is that of Lorenzo II, who died at 27 of syphillis and TB. He died heirless so the princely line, which went back to Cosimo The Elder died with him. His sarcophagus has a curved lid and bears two reclining statues - a man and a woman. The man (Dusk) seems to be worn out after a long day's work and he sits in a slumped position,his chin on his chest, seemingly reflecting on his day. The woman (Dawn) seems to be waking after a long night. She wears a look of worry; perhaps a nightmare plagued her rest. In a niche over the sarcophagus holds a statue of Lorenzo II. He is shown as a Roman general and is seated, arm resting on a Medici-bank money box, and his head is bowed in contemplation.

On the opposite wall is the tomb of Giuliano, Duke of Nemours. He was the son of Lorenzo the Magnificent and brother of Pope Leo X. Guiliano led a wine-women-and-song life and he too died young and without a male heir. His statue is also dressed as a Roman general, with scepter. He has a powerful Moses-esque pose and his alert, intelligent face looks in the direction of the Madonna statue which marks the spot that the tomb of Lorenzo the Magnificent and his brother Giuliano would have been if Michelangelo had completed the project. This Giuliano's gaze seems to be begging forgiveness of the Madonna for a wasted life! (My guidebook states that Giulian's 'active' pose compliments the 'contemplative' one of Lorenzo, showing the two elements - thought + action - that Plato and Michelangelo believed made up the soul of man.) The likeness of Giuliano is not at all accurate. Michelangelo is said to have said "In a thousand years no-one will know how they looked." Did he know, I wonder, that his work would last that long?

On this sarcophagus there are also two statues, again a man and a woman. These are Night and Day. The woman (Night), like the woman on the other tomb, is sleeping, but she is half sitting as well. Her abdominal muscles are clearly defined (almost masculine) and they look more like warm wax than cold stone. She is polished and shimmering and finished with minute detail but somehow seems 'unfinished'. The man (Day) also seems to be unfinished. His pose is twisted and he turns away from his audience. Clear chisel marks on the stone are suggestive of Impressionist brush strokes.

I left Night and Day and returned to Dusk and Dawn and see that these statues too, appear to be unfinished, as my guidebook suggests. It also says that Michelangelo is believed to have purposely left them this way. I return to Night and Day and look at them again in light of the belief that Night's moonlit clarity and Day's rough-hewn grogginess may also reflect Michelangelo's own work schedule - a notorious day-sleeper and guilt-ridden layabout ("Dear to me is sleep") who, when inspired (as a friend wrote), "works much, eats little, and sleeps less."

I study Night some more and see a crescent moon on her forehead, and owl under one knee and some poppies underfoot. There is also a mask which I read is perhaps a self-portrait. Steve's guidebook tells me that Michelangelo was a serious poet (so much so that he almost considered sculpting is 'day job') and that in one of his poems he has Night say: "As long as shame and sorrow exist/I'd rather not see or hear/So speak softly and let me sleep."

These four statues, brought to life here in this room, where Michelangelo had his workshop, seem to be meditating on Death, squirming restlessly, unable to come to terms with it. Perhaps this is a reflection of their creator's own emotions because as my guidebook goes on to tell me, "during the 14 years he worked in this room, Michelangelo suffered the deaths of his father, favourite brother, and his unofficial stepbrother, Pope Leo X Medici. In addition, plagues in 1522 and 1527 killed thousands in Florence. In 1527 his adoptive city of Rome was looted by mercenaries. Michelangelo's letters reveal that, turning 50, he was feeling old, tired ("If I work one day, I need four to recuperate"), and depressed (he called it mi pazzo, 'my madness'), facing the sad fact that the masterpiece of his youth - the grand tomb of Pope Julius 11 - was never going to be completed." As Rick Steves adds "Overachievers in severe midlife crisis may wish to avoid the Medici Chapels..."

The Tomb of Lorenzo the Magnificent and his Brother Giuliano was never completed. The marble base that the Madonna and saints stand on is all that marks where the Magnificent One's body lies. As Steves suggests, perhaps Michelangelo worked on the other tombs to lead up to this one as "a grand finale to honour the man who was not only the greatest Medici but who also plucked a poor 13-year-old Michelangelo from an obscure apprenticeship to dine at the Medici table with cardinals and kings."

Lorenzo's brother died in 1478, stabbed to death before the altar of the Duomo during festival mass by assassins hired by or who supported a rival family. (Shades of the Godfathers!) Enraged supporters of the Medici family grabbed the killers - including two priests apparently planted there by the pope (was nothing sacred!) - and literally tore them to pieces.

The statue of the Medici Madonna, "unlike many Michelangelo women, is thin, vertical, and elegant, her sad face veiled under chisel marks. The squirming boy-child, Jesus, who is clearly a toddler, is attempting to breast-feed. This statue is clearly unfinished for Mary's right foot is still buried in stone. (The saints alongside her were done by assistants my trusty guidebook tells me.)

Some interesting historical facts: The Chapel project, which began in 1520 and continued until 1534, was plagued by delays, such as design changes, lae shipments, the death of patrons, the artists other obligations (like the Laurentian Library next door) his own depression, and ... revolution.

Here I quote Rick Steves: "In 1527 Florence rose up against the Medici pope and declared an independent republic. Michelangelo, torn between his love of Florence and loyalty to the Medicis of his youth, walked a fine line. He continued to work for the pope while simultaneously designing fortified city walls to defend Florence from the pope's troops. In 1530 the besieged city fell, Republicans were rounded up and executed, and Michelangelo went into hiding (perhaps in the chapel basement...). Fortunately, his status both as artist and staunch Florentine spared him from reprisals.

"In 1534 a new pope enticed Michangelo to come back to Rome with a challenging new project: painting the Last Judgment over the altar in the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo left, never to return to the Medici Chapels. Assistants gathered up statues and fragments from the chapel floor (and the Madonna from Michelangelo's house) and did their best to assemble the pieces according to Michelangelo's designs."

I went behind the altar for a quick look at the sketches displayed there. These are behind plastic, which is dark and hard to see through but one can get an idea of how the artist and his assistants worked at their designs although it is extremely difficult to see which piece ended up as what!

It was still early when I left San Lorenzo so, with time for one more museum I walked up to San Marco, to the Museo di San Marco, once a monastery, to see the works of Fra Angelico (who fused medieval faith with Renaissance realism, and to learn about Savanarola who fused medieval faith with modern politics,) and Fra Bartolomeo.

I began in the courtyard, the centre grassy square of which is closed to visitors. Over in a corner is Fra Angelico's Fresco of St. Dominic and Crucifixion. As my guidebook says, it shows Dominic, the founder of the order, "hugging the bloody cross like a groupie adoring a rock star!

There are a series of rooms opening off the courtyard and I visit these in turn, viewing works of the three artists. Fra Angelico's are brightly coloured; in his 'Deposition of Christ from the Cross' he 'works outside the lines' when Christ's toes, kissed by Mary Magdalene, cross the triptych wall, ignoring the frame's traditional three-arch divisions. With this, and with the background filled in with nature - flowers, trees, clouds, real people and the hillsdies of Fiesole overlooking Florence - he creates a single, realistic scene. There are more and more - triptych's and panels and so on, all different from other works I've seen here in Florence. Yet they are a little too perfect perhaps, with no shadows, and no emotion to his character's faces. Angelico obviously loved nature because he used it so much in his backgrounds, setting his works in the world and they countryside that he loved. He also included portraits of people famous in his time in the crowd scenes, mixing with saints and angels.

The piece that most impressed me was "Last Judgment", which shows Heaven and Hell. Satan rules the bottom of the pit,(on the right of the painting) where sinners are shown being tortured, burned or boiled and sweet faced 'believers' (all dressed as the wealthy would have, no poor people here) are entertained by angels on the left of the painting. Between these two, in the centre of the painting, is a row of holes in the ground (perspective is well-done here) that puzzled me, so I turned to my guidebook which says these are, "a row of open tombs creating a 3-D Highway to Hell, stretching ominously to that Final Judgment Day."

A generation after Fra Angelico came Fra Bartolomeo (1473-1517). His speciality was simple sweet frescoes. He gave us"Ecce Homo", Christ portrayed as a dreamy, almost effeminate man; St. Dominic (who founded the order) with his fingers to his lips, exhorting silence, and Savonarola, in profile, hooded, with big nose and clear eyes, gazing intently into the darkness. (Savonarola is the man reviled as the evil opponent of the Renaissance goodness, yet ironically it was he who inspired Bartolomeo's art.)

Another room is the library and here are huge leather bound books - of music and texts - all preserved under glass that is temperature controlled. The pages are beautifully decorated, as are the leather covers and bindings. Some of these books are so large and so thick they must have needed four men to move them around. Not suitable for a cosy night's reading by the fire or in bed I can tell you!

After finishing exploring the rooms off the courtyard, I climb the stairs to those things I had been most interested to see - the cells (monk's bedrooms). All but a couple of these have been roped off but one is able to step inside each door to view the Fra Angelico's frescoes which adorn the walls. He painted some of these but many were executed by assistants under his direction. Those in a row of 10 are his though, and they are the most interesting. There are a couple, in Cells #6 and #7 that are a departure from his 'normal style'. One, titled "Transfiguration", shows the disembodied heads of saints (or prophets) spinning around the body of Christ as he stands up on a mountain. In another (The Mocking of Christ), Christ sits blindfolded on a throne, suspended in the air beside him is a club (he was clubbed) and on his other side is the head of a man, spitting (he was also spat upon and hit). Further around there are a couple of cells that are fully open so that one can go in and experience, after a fashion, what life must have been like, locked away (as the monks were) at night. One would either feel safe and secure (womb like) or suffocated (claustrophobia). Most of the cells had no windows but those at the end of each row did. I know which one I would have opted for, had I had a choice! Two other cells offered views, through square holes drilled through the stone of the floor and with cleverly places mirrors, to the basement or dungeon areas. What these were used for I have no idea but torture comes to mind!

Another set of cells are those of Savonarola - his study, and his bedroom - his living quarters with some of his possessions displayed. He came to San Marco as a lecturer/monk, when aged 30 but was not impressive as a speaker. Then, after 'divine revelations' he began to spice his sermons with predictions and when these began to come true, and after the power vacuum created when the Medicis were exiled and France had invaded Florence, he was made head of a Christian commonwealth. But he didn't last. Italy had a bloody and gory history - even after Rome had fallen - because he was eventually arrested, defrocked, forgiven by a papal emissary, and then hanged! His hanging took place in a huge square in front of the Palazzo Vecchio and it culminated in the deaths of several of the crowd who gathered to watch when, after the hanging, his body was burned. The flames rose up, engulfing his body, when all of a sudden his arm shot up, a final blessing or a curse, and the crowd stampeded. His ashes were later thwon into the Arno. (I wonder if that is why it is always a brownish/yellow colour!)

The museum closes at 1.30pm each day and it was almost that when I left. I returned to the ticket office, where I purchased my ticket for the Accademia. I had been warned that the lines there are very long and it is best to buy a ticket in advance. However, a ticket alone is not all that is required, one must also 'reserve' a time to view Michelangelo's David. The harried ticket seller sighed when I said I wanted to make my reservation and began to scroll through a list on her computer terminal, saying that it would be difficult because he was almost booked out for that day. When I told her that I wanted to reserve a time for next Tuesday she said 'at last!' She told me she'd had a morning of people wanting to view 'right now'. My ticket and reservation in hand, I set out to walk up to the Accademia, just so I would know where it was on Tuesday. That is certainly a day not to get lost. When I arrived though I was amazed to see the length of the line of those who had not already got a ticket. I moved on to the section for those with 'ticket and reservation' and was amazed again. The line here was not as long as the other, but it was still a long line. I decided that I would arrive at 9am for my 10am appointment! I really do hope that David is impressed with all this attention, and duly humble, although from my experience of Italian men it has all probably gone to his head. (With apologies to any Italian men reading this - I certainly don't mean you!)

By the time I had done all of this I was exhausted and starving, (I'd missed morning tea again) so I found a little Trattoria and enjoyed a simple meal of penne with pesto for the grand sum of 4 Euo, plus 1 Euro 'service fee'. Thus fortified, I set out to cross Florence to my favourite bookstore to replenish my store of books, arriving home foot sore and weary in the late afternoon. I've finally realised that it must be the uneven cobbled ways here that are affecting my foot so badly, but a good soak for a half hour soon had it right again.

Wednesday was the day I had decided to visit Siena. I set out for the bus station at 7.30am and caught the 'rapida' coach, which goes down the autostrada, at 8.15, arriving at my destination at 9.40am. I could have left the coach closer to the things I'd come to see but I wanted to go with it all the way to the terminal so I'd know exactly where I had to come to return to Florence. Siena, like Florence, is not a large city so I knew that walking to any of the attractions wouldn't take longer than 15 minutes. And so it turned out.

The city of Siena really needs more than one day; I can imagine what the light here must be like at sunset and opefully one day I will come back to stay for longer so I can see it. At that time I will also have a car (and a navigator please God) so I can get out into the countryside to see it all. One can get buses to most villages, although this sometimes means a lot of changes and hence much valuable time, but a car is necessary to get to those out of the way places that are not on the path of the average tourist. One can, of course, take organised tours but I prefer the do-it-yourself method.

Knowing I only had the day, I made my plans accordingly. There was no tourist information centre near the bus terminal so I trusted that the little map in my guidebook would suffice, at least until I got to a centre at Il Campo. Like Florence, Siena is an old city, with rambling cobbled roads that meandered up and down the three hills the city is set on. I went first up to the Church of San Domenico. It's a very austere place (which is to be expected of a Dominican church I suppose) but there are a few treasures there. There is also a metal bust of Saint Catherine (patron saint of Siena, and these days of all of Europe) in a glass case and beside it, what is said to be one of her fingers! Devout catholics touch the glass there with their hand and then kiss their fingers and crossed themselves. Much to my horror, a bit futher up I found what was puported to be Catherine's actual head atop the altar!

I left the church and continued down the right-hand cobbled road, coming to a side road that leads to Catherine's home, the Sanctuary of Saint Catherine. Pilgrims have apparently been visiting her home since 1464 so I thought that I might as well too. It was a long and slippery climb down but I made it without falling and walked into a large courtyard that led to another, which had signs proclaiming it to be 'private property'. Of course, it was full of tourists who ignore signs. Catherine's 'home' was to the side and it seems to have been a very humble place, although much decorated by her followers over the years. Beside it is a small 'store' where one can buy typical souvenirs.

Saint Catherine's story is an interesting one. She was born in 1347, the youngest of 25 children born to a Sienese cloth dyer. (Nothing I read mentions her mother - poor woman. What I read makes it sound as if she was superfluous, as if the cloth dyer, Catherine's father, did it all by himself!) Catherine, it appears, began experiencing heavenly visions even in childhood. At the tender age of 16 she became a dominican nun, locking herself away for three years in a room in her family's house. (All of this is taken from Rick Steves' guidebook by the way.)

In that room she lived the life of an ascetic, which culminated in a vision wherein she married Christ. Catherine emerged from solitude to join her Dominican sisters, sharing her experiences, caring for the sick, and gathering both desciples and enemies. (That's what no TV does for you! That's me scoffing by the way, not Rick!) At age 23 she lapsed into a spiritual coma (whatever that is, again that's me), waking with the heavenly command to spread her message to the world. She wrote essays and letters to kings, dukes, bishops, and popes, imploring them to find peace for a war-ravaged Italy. While visiting Pisa in 1375 she had a vision in which she received the stigmata, the wounds of Christ. (Another aside from me - There's been much written about this phenomena, which has happened to several people over the years, so I'll say nothing here. If you're interested, you can find out more about it on the internet and decide for yourself.)

Still in her twenties, Catherine was invited to Avignon in France, where the pope had taken up residence. WIth her charm, sincerity, and reputation for holiness, she helped convince Pope Gregory XI to return the papacy to the city of Rome. Catherine also went to Rome, where she died young (in 1380). She was canonized in the next generation (by a Sienese pope) and her relics were distributed to churches around Italy. Here endeth the bit from Steves' guide!

My next stop was at Siena's Duomo, a large white and dark green building with a colourful front that is picked out in white, pink, green and gold. It is set on an artificial platform at the top of Siena's highest point so it is very visible wherever you might be in the city. The Bapistry is entered from a small piazza below, down a set of steep stairs. There were a lot of people about, waiting to go inside, so I decided not to wait but would come back if time permitted. (It did as it turned out but my foot was swelling and I decided not to risk walking back there and having to limp to the bus; but according to Rick Steves, it's definitely worth a visit. Next time.)

After sitting in the piazza for awhile and soaking up the atmosphere (and resting my foot), I walked on to Il Campo, the centre of the city. This is a huge square, from which all the streets move out, like spokes from a wheel. (This square is the site of the famous horse race, the Palio, so you can imagine how large it is.) First stop was the tourist office, althoug according to my 'bible' - Rick Steves - this is an exasperating place for tourist information. TI employees claim that transit and museum officials don't want them to know anything about the town's sights or buses. They do offer a free map though, so I called in and picked one up.

It was almost mid-day, so before the many umbrella'ed tables filled, I found a seat and ordered a capuccino and a jam filled croisant - I figured that I would walk off the calories in no time! The break was just what I needed and a half-hour later, (to the relief of the staff, who were running out of tables and hate to see just one person seated at one) I set off to explore the square first. As I said, it's huge, and it slopes down from each side to the centre, much like an amphitheatre, which would be a problem when it rained but I read that it rarely rains in Siena so perhaps not. There must have been thousands of people in the square but it's so big - the ones on the other side looked like ants (or perhaps I need glasses for distance now) - that they didn't seem like many at all.

The City Hall (Palazzo Pubblico) was across the other side so I trekked over and went inside. I had thoughts of climbing the tower, where it is said that one has a wonderful view of the city, but the thought of 300 stairs up, and then the same 300 down, put me off. I had visions of getting to the top and having to spend the night there! I was also a bit worried about the stability of the thing. I know it's been standing for a long time, but I read that it was just plonked onto the building with no extra foundations and it's a wonder it's still standing. (Shades of the Leaning Tower.) In one of the pictures I took of it, it seems to have a slight lean. The tower is named "Torre del Mangia" after a watchman who apparently consumed his earnings like a glutton consumes food.

So, outside again, I looked up at the front of the building, where the symbols of the city are featured. There is a large 'sun' there and this, I read, is to remember Saint Bernardino of Siena. He was born the day Catherine died and he went on to travel throughout Italy, preaching peace. His sermons often ended with reconciling parties exchanging a bacio di pace (Kiss of peace).

I wandered through the red-bricked centre, free of traffic and sat and watched the crowds for awhile, and took more photos, before moving up to the high point of the square to look at the Fonte Gaia (Fountain of Joy). The pictures I'd seen of this fountain didn't show it with the railing cutting it off from the viewing public, so I assumed it was a recent addition. Perhaps some over-enthusiastic tourists had used it to cool off in the hot summer months. It certainly made it difficult to get a good photo! Surrounding the fountain are relief panels, one of which shows God creating Adam by helping him to his feet, and it is said that this reclining Adam helped influence Michelangelo when he painted the Sistine Chapel.

I took one more walk around the square before choosing one of the side-streets to explore. Wouldn't you know it, I came a book store and just had to go in and buy a couple. I then found a lovely grassy spot, complete with pond, one white swan, two ducks, countless turtles and fish, and ate my lunch while beginning one of my books. I then spent a lovely couple of hours just wandering up one street and down another, finding archetectural marvels everywhere I looked. There were museums aplenty but I'd had my fill of museums; after awhile they tend to blur together. I took 150 photos so came back with plenty to remind me of my time there.

It was early evening when I left Siena, this time by the Firenze Diretta coach, which meant a slow trip but an interesting one as we called into many villages on the way.

Today, Thursday, has been an at home day, to recover and to get this journal written up, before it all did blur into one confused whole. Tomorrow I have some souvenir shopping to do, and mail to send, so that will suffice for now. The weekend will be food shopping, washing and cleaning (all boring stuff) before next week I begin again. It's hard to believe that I have only just over two weeks left here in Florence; I intend to make the most of them.

Friday 29th September 2006

My day of rest yesterday turned out to be very busy. After a long phone call home, I set to and brought my journal up-to-date. After a long morning's work, and only half done, I promptly 'lost' the last hour of work when I hit a wrong button and then again, so no way to 'undo'. Serves me right! I finally finished uploading journal and pics at 7 p.m. and then picked up a book. At 2 a.m. this morning, I finished it.

Today, after a bit of a sleep in (up at 7.45 a.m.) I set out for the Santa Croce Church, going via the Ponte Vecchio to take a few photos and to check out some stores for souvenirs. The shops were only just setting up prior to opening so I didn't buy anything. At least the crowds were absent so I could get some elbow room for some decent photos!

It was so early that the stalls were not yet set up in the Piazza at Santa Croce, and there were no lines waiting at the ticket booth. This church is a 14th century Franciscan church that contains lots of art and the tombs of great Florentines. It is one of the first (and still the largest) churches built to honour the humanist monk Saint Francic of Assisi. Inside, it is huge, and very spacious. Disappointingly (but understandably) parts of it were roped off to allow for restoration work. (I thought they could have offered a discount on the tickets though, which cost 5 Euro.)

The tomb in front of me, on the far wall as I entered, was that of Leonardo Bruni,a humanist of great value and one of the most important Latin Language writers of his time. The fact that he was buried in this church means that he was held in high esteem by the ruling powers of the age. The monument decoration (the work is attributed to Bernado Rossellino) is characterised by classic elements and arch, sculpture and painting come together here. I looked at the design for the symbolic meanings and surmise that the decked arch recalls the triumphant Romanesque Arch, which is also reminescent of the Arch of Heaven - a characteristic of the Christian Faith.

On the other side, to the right of Bruni's tomb, is Tabernacolo, Annunciazione Cavalcanti, by Donatello (1433-1435). The work was commissioned by Cavalcanti and it came to Santa Croce from that family's chapel when it was demolished during the Basilica's renewing works in 1566. The work has been engraved using raised stone. THe main figures - the Angel and Mary - are realized in life-size and carved in full relief. This work, (according to the sign, praise the Lord in English) apparently "is the result of Donatello's studies on classical patterns that he worked out using the typical sensibility of the Quattrocentro." Virgin and Angel have acquired so much importance in this work that they have filled the stage set to become both action and setting. They stand forth so that they seem to be living in the same space as their spectators, as they become eye-witnesses to the event being enacted - that is, the Angel messenger delivering the news of pregnancy to Mary. (There was a tour guide with a group who arrived just as I was about to move on, and I overhead her saying that this work is "Donatello's first sculpture using persepective."

I walked around the front of the church, admiring the stained glass windows, the high vaulted ceilings, the altar, and the frescoes, treading on the hundreds of tomb stones inlaid into the floor. Some of these are carved in relief so tricky to walk on if you don't look where you're going and have a dicky foot like me! I saw some people taking photos and finally realised that, unlike everywhere else I've been, cameras are allowed in Santa Croce, just 'no flash' as I heard one guard say to a woman whose camera flash had just illuminated an art work.

After wandering by the huge tombs and monuments of Niccolo Machiavelli (he wrote The Prince a book about politics), by Donatello, and Gioachino Rossini (composer of many operas, including the William Tell Overture I finally reached one of the two I had really come here to see - that of Galileo Galilei. He, of course, was the Pisan man who lived his last years under house arrest near Florence after having defied the Church by saying the earch revolved around the sun! His 'heretical' remains were only allowed into the church long after his death.

Directly opposite Galileo is the second tomb I came to see, the resting place of Michelangelo Buonarroti. Santa Croce was his boyhood church; he grew up a block away from it at Via dei Bentaccordi 15, where nothing now remains but a plaque to mark the spot! The tomb, with allegorical figures of painting, architecture, and sculpture, was designed by Michelangelo's great admirer, the artist/biographer Vasari.

Not far away from Michelangelo is a memorial to the poet Dante Alighieri. There is a large statue of him in the piazza outside the church but I hadn't expected to see this monument here because Dante had been banished by his hometown because of political differences and I understood he was buried elsewhere. Then I read the sign, which says that there is no body inside the tomb.

Moving out of the church I came into the cloisters, and turned left into Brunelleschi's Pazzi Chapel, with large carved doors, and bright frescos and decorated ceiling inside. From there I walked around the cloisters, visiting various rooms along the way, including one small side chapel where there is the Polyptych of Crowning, by Giotto, (1329-34) relocated here because of restoration work at the Baroncelli Chapel (wherever that might be!). The work was originally a polyptych but no longer for it was irreversibly modified at the end of the 15th century, when the panels were inserted in a trabeated, carved frame after having their points cut off! The missing point of the polyptych is currently at the San Diego Museum of Art in California, USA.

It was after 11 a.m. by the time I left Santa Croce and from there I set off to La Posta, to send some mail. I wasn't lookin forward to it at all for I'd been warned about long waits at the Post Office in Florence. On entering the building, you have to check the signs to see which service you require (nothing is in English). After making that decision, you press the corresponding button and take a ticket. Mine was P166 and when I checked the board, the current 'P' service number was 131! Before taking my number, I had written on my postcard, and in the birthday card I had to send. There was nowhere to lean on to do it - a couple of tiny spaces much sought after - so I did a fine balancing act and only hope that my writing is legible to its recipents! After waiting for 15 minutes, and with the 'P' numbers having only reached 142, I moved out into the corridor, along with a number of people. There was a bit more air there! All up, the whole process took one hour and 20 minutes! All for 2 stamps. Unbelievable. I don't know if it's always that bad or if I just got there on the wrong day and at the wrong time, but sorry folks, I won't be sending any more postcards.

After the post office, I moved on to do my supermarket shopping (it being in the same street) and then set off for home. Apart from a short walk tomorrow and on Sunday, I won't be moving from here until Monday. My feet will thank me!

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