Florence 2

So I’ve failed pretty miserably on the blogging for the past two days.  We have been incredibly busy as we attempt to visit every famous piece of artwork you have ever heard of (an exaggeration, but not by much).  The first leg of the trip (through Italy) has a really heavy focus on art, but later on we will have more time to experience modern day culture.  This is particularly true in Florence.  The entire city is essentially one big monument.  If a building here has  only been around for 300 years, it’s “new”.  The building that a museum is in is as much a piece of artwork as what’s in it (sometimes more so).  Earlier today in the Uffizi (big museum, pretty paintings), I was literally staring in awe at the ceiling in the gift shop.  I may be mistaken, but I believe it was painted by a pupil of Michelangelo.  Also of interest was the Medici family musical insturment gallery.  They had period instruments for both 1600s string orchestras and 1800s full orchestras.  Could clarinets have been more vile at one point or did we make them worse?  I would tell you but the guard attempted to stop me when I tried to play one.  Unfortunately, the Medici’s were not contemporaries of Adolf Sax.  In response to Mr. Naughton’s comment, I did not bring my sax; however, earlier today, as I was standing in a plaza, I was imagining what would occur if a New Orleans street musician set up and started playing there.  To give you an idea of how truly strange it would seem, the buildings around the square are probably around 500 years old and the borders of the square are filled with statues of greek mythological figures.  I can’t imagine a more awkard setting for jazz.

I feel like I’ve been babbling a little bit.  Let me talk about something other than how awesome the art is.  Michelangelo’s David is really tall and Botticelli’s Birth of Venus will knock your socks off.  You will attempt to sketch them in your notebook and realize that you have been severely outgunned by a bunch of dead guys who didn’t watch much tv because it hadn’t been invented yet.  There.  It’s  been said.

Now onto the things that you REALLY want to know.

McDonald’s serves beer and has artwork on the walls.  It’s also completely spotless inside.

Espresso here is absolutely fantastic and I ordered it without speaking a word of English (yeah…it’s really not that hard…still exciting, though).

The gelato guy next to SM del Carmine speaks perfect English.  We spent a good five minutes trying to figure out how to ask about the flavors in Italian.   He replied, “Oh, that one’s Hazelnut.  Have you decided what you’d like?”.  Suffice it to say we felt like idiots.

People will tell you that ALL European portions are smaller than American portions.  That is absolutely untrue (In math you can disprove something if you find one exception.  Does that work here?).  Most Italian restaurants (Haven’t been to all of them but I feel like I’ve read the menus of at least half  of the ones here) have what’s  called Primi and Secondi courses (you guessed rightt–first and second).  You order Primi, and think it’s your entree.  Then you are full and ready to leave and find out you are only halfway there–Secondi coming right up.  Better rebuild that appetite because there are 10 euros still on the table.

There are these glorious shops that are like gas stations without  gas and a third of the size.  They sell delicious sandwiches for 2 euros.  We frequent them for lunch.

Italian drivers don’t slow down for pedestrians.  I’m not saying they are trying to kill you, but they simply don’t reach for the brake pedal just because someone is in the road.

Fanta soda here is made with real fruit, not high fructose corn syrup.  Despite the fact that it may very well be bottled near my house, we can’t have it.  Simply unjust.

You can walk into a market and buy a giant loaf of bread and a block of cheese.  You will pay 3 euros.  It will be the best block of cheese and loaf of bread you’ve ever had.

Wine is sometimes cheaper than water.  I’ll say that again.  Wine is sometimes cheaper than water.  Enjoy the wine.  It’s simply a matter of economy.  If someone questions you, tell them you are drinking red wine because you are on a tight budget.

We were at the top of a scenic hill and there were several street musicians playing for tips.  One woman pretended to play a wooden flute to the theme from “Titanic” while a cd player behind her produced the actual sound.  She would occasional stop “playing” for several seconds while the cd droned on.  Too funny…

Perhaps one of the most entertaining experiences of all involved the infamous pre-dinner bread basket at restaurants.  In American restaurants, they bring bread to the table, and we pig out on it and ask for three more baskets.  In Italian restaurants, they bring bread and then count the number of pieces at the end of your meal and charge you for what’s missing.  At one restaurant, the waiter brought the bread, continuously relocated it so that it was directly under my friend’s nose, and then asked us point blank, “Why will you not eat the bread?”,  despite the fact that it was obviously charged for.

Well, I’d love to write more, but I have to wake up in 2 hours.  I should probably go for now.  I’ll post a million pictures tomorrow or tonight, depending on how long I last in the uploading process.

Florence 1

I left the house this morning at around 9 am.  For the next 24 hours or so, my fellow travelers and I made our way to our first city, Florence.  From Atlanta to Chicago, then on to Rome, both plane trips went precisely as planned and we arrived slightly ahead of schedule.  On the Atlantic crossing, I had the pleasure of sitting beside an art history professor from Illinois.  He shared much of his knowledge of Italy with me (both historical and practical), and I felt better equipped to handle my new surroundings upon disembarkation.

Marcel (or at least I believe that is his name) met us at the airport and showed us to the bus that would serve as our gateway through Europe.  Unlike Atlanta’s own airport, the Roman airport is quite removed from the city itself (approx. 25 km), and so we found ourselves almost immediately skirting across the Italian countryside.  The pictures speak for themselves, but suffice it to say that it was very mountainous and quite beautiful.

Several hours later, we were introduced to our Florentine Hotel and me, to my bed for a much needed nap.  I awoke to the warning of my roommate–that we were supposed to be at dinner in 5 minutes.  We hurried down the stairs and out onto the streets of Florence with the rest of our group.  Once reunited, we moved along a cobbled, yet surprisingly tame, sidewalk as a conspicuous and concentrated force of tourism to what might be considered the stereotypical Italian restaurant.  I cannot help but think that the cuisine was a bit too familiar to be genuine, but it was tasty nonetheless.  We particularly enjoyed the Gelato served as dessert; it is similar to American ice cream, but unbelievably smooth and somehow less artificial.

One tidbit that I failed to mention as I described our passage through the Roman airport is that the customs area was segregated between Barcelona and Manchester United fans (presumably to prevent fights).  What I didn’t know until boarding my flight this morning is that the European soccer final was going to be played in Rome that night.  Despite venturing several hours north to Florence, the excitement of the game was still in the air, and so we couldn’t help but join the locals in a small Pub near our restaurant to watch the game.  Barcelona won, by the way.  Not being a soccer fan myself, I was nevertheless caught up in the passion of the Italians as they cheered on their favorite team (which was unanimously Barce in our Pub).

Returning to my room tonight, I am exhausted and somewhat disoriented after being thrown across the Atlantic–through time, culture, and language.  And yet, I cannot wait to see what tomorrow has in store.

-Sean