After yet another night with jet lag, I woke up to rain. Fortunately, my "commute" to the train station was by boat down the Grand Canal, and the stop is only a five-minute walk from my hotel. Taking the boat is really cool; to think that this is a typical commute for so many Venetians! I bought a ticket, jumped on the right boat (the #1), and arrived at the train station for a caffe latte and brioche before boarding the 8:35am train to Florence. My seat on the train was in second class, but it felt like first class, thanks to the free Wi-Fi!
The train goes right over the straight, and it was sad to say good-bye to the water and the canals. But the countryside was beautiful. We even went through some mountains and snow. As we passed through towns and cities (like Bologna), it looks like most people live in apartment buildings, which are everywhere. I saw more apartment buildings than houses.
I arrived in Florence about 20 minutes later than expected, and after asking for directions, managed to pull my bag along narrow sidewalks and arrived at the hotel about 30 minutes later, a sweaty, wet mess. The room is pretty shabby, but the hotel is very quiet, a very welcome change from the crazy loud high schoolers at the Hotel Bernardi in Venice.
My first task was to go for a run. I put it off for a few days, hoping to get over the jet lag, but since that hasn't happened, I decided I couldn't wait any longer. The woman behind the desk directed me to a type of roundabout that was right outside of the hotel, and said that there are always people running around. Well, it was raining, and I was basically the only one running! I must have run around the square about 16 times in order to get in 3 miles. Very, very boring. But the ground was uneven, so very good practice for those cobblestones in Rome. And above all, it felt good to sweat again.
I found a restaurant not far from the hotel, and while it looked a bit touristy, the food was actually pretty good; a vegetable soup drizzled with olive oil, pasta shells stuffed with ground meat and spinach in a tomato sauce, and a glass of red wine. I happily ate it all and finished the meal with a cappucino. The tomato sauce here is wonderful; it tastes much fresher than Venice. And the service was better than what I experienced in Venice as well.
Right around the corner is the Accademia, home to many great works of Renaissance art, including Michelangelo's David. I waited in line for about 20-25 minutes, which is not bad, considering that I didn't have tickets (which were only 6.5 Euro). I can only imagine how crazy it must be in the summer! One unfortunate difference between Venice and Florence is that there are more Americans here. And they are obnoxious; many of them make no effort to try and speak the language, and they're loud. There were a few in line and once we were inside, they made an immediate b-line to the David, bypassing everything else.
The art was incredible, spanning the 13th to 17th centuries. Due to the time period, the majority of the subjects were religious: Jesus, Mary, the baby Jesus, the apostles, lots of Saints, etc. And I will admit, the David is stunning. I had no idea it was so big, and the quality is excellent. They even have a sensor installed on it to detect any changes in cracks. There were lots of sculptures, and even a room full of musical instruments: violins and violas from Stradivari, harpsichords, even hurdy gurdys. The quality and condition were impressive. The museum also had lots of videos that showed demonstrations of how molds are made for statues to make replicas, and how Renaissance artists created art on wood and used different materials to create that beautiful gold look. It is an incredible bargain for such a cheap admission price.
Now, for dinner. I purposely waited until Florence to get pizza, and I had waited long enough. Venice is not known for pizza, and the few places referred to as "reputable" had very mixed reviews, so I decided not to risk it. I headed out with one pizzeria in mind, but no surprise...I got lost! An older man saw my map and offered to help. He actually mentioned another pizzeria that I had heard was good, called Yellow Bar, so I decided to check that out instead, since it was much closer. Based on his persistent questioning, I could tell he was looking for a companion (just my luck) and so I politely but quickly thanked him and went on my way.
This pizzeria had its share of foreigners, but at the sight of the wood-fired ovens, I knew I had come to the right place. I ordered an insalata mixta and a pizza margherita with proscuitto di Parma.
Wow, wow, wow. Incredible! The ham was unlike anything I had ever tasted, so flavorful and salty. The cheese was tangy and somewhat gooey, the crust thin and crispy, and burnt in some places. It was almost as if all the ingredients were in competition with each other to be the best. I was seriously tempted to order another one, but by the time I finished the salad and my glass of chianti, I knew I was done. That's okay; there's more pizza in my near future.
The walk back to the hotel had me passing the Duomo, which I hadn't actually seen since arriving in Florence. It is truly magnificent, and appeared to fill up the entire sky as I passed. I walked by bars showing the Juventus-Celtic match (Juventus won 5-0), and as I headed back to my hotel, I thought to myself, "I can't believe I'm getting paid to do this."
A domani.
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