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"Hey dude, do you wanna go on a date for a beer with a dork? Well, I've got one right here - it's me!" - Briana Pond

ac9Saturday, May 16, 2009 was my last day in Italy. As I laid in bed that morning, I was both reflecting on a great week – our day in Pisa, two days in Rome, two days in Florence, one day in Siena, and one day in Venice – and dreading the process of getting back home. As for the day itself, Chris and Sarah would be taking me to just a few additional places around Florence so that we could effectively ‘wrap-up’ the tour of their current hometown. It was a nice day, but the dreaded trip home was looming ever nearer.

Chris and I had been on the road for the last two days, so we again spent a leisurely morning at the apartment and it was noon and lunchtime as we headed out. So our first stop was actually at a deli to grab a sandwich. We had tried to hit the Oil Shoppe again, where Sarah and I had eaten on Tuesday, but they were closed up for the afternoon. Apparently, they held very odd hours and Chris had yet to experience their yummy goodness. But Antico Noe was good too. I had a prosciutto sandwich with provolone, sun-dried tomatoes, and spinach.

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Italian sandwich time!

After lunch we concentrated on the three major sites in Florence that we hadn’t seen, as well as a few brief stops for some minor ones. The first on the agenda was the San Marco religious complex, which consists of both a church and museum. The museum was formerly a convent for the church’s friars. It is rather famous for the frescoes painted throughout the cells of the building, as well as in its outdoor cloister. Consecrated in 1443, the church’s convent was once home to famous artist Fra Angelico who also lived on the premises. Chris, Sarah, and I only toured the convent/museum and spent almost an hour and a half here.

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San Brad in front of the San Marco Museum

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One of the many frescoes painted inside the priest’s cells. The more revered the friar, the fancier the fresco

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From the cloister, you could sometimes find dumb tourists hanging out the windows of the convent

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In the outdoor cloister, Sarah and I pose under a fresco that includes the famous shush gesture of her dissertation

Sarah and I went into the Accademia di Belle Arti (Academy of Fine Arts), typically known just as the Accademia. It is rather costly to get in and there is relatively little to see. Sarah however could use her student pass for free admission – and I wanted to see the sole main attraction, the original David by Michelangelo. I had naturally already seen the copy which stands in front of the Palazzo Vecchio (where this original once stood), but I had to get a photo with this original.

This was not so easy as there were guards all around it, mostly Hitleresque women who sit home alone on Saturday nights. Sarah doesn’t like to get yelled at for taking pictures, so I had to use my skills of cunningness to position her in just the right location to avoid any sort of scolding, and still get my shot. And so it was… 

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One skillfully executed photo of me with Michelangelo’s David. Check.

The rest of the museum was rather lame, so I could see why Chris wouldn’t want to bother entering it again. It consisted mostly of casts of other famous works including Giambolgna’s The Rape of the Sabine Women. We only spent about 45 minutes in the museum in total.

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Not only was the bulk of what was inside relatively lame, but the outside presentation of the Accademia was pretty pathetic

We met back up with Chris who had been attacking random people with his invisible umbrella while he waited, and Sarah headed on home. She was a little bit preggers and we talked her out of the next adventure, trooper that she was. The capper to all of the touring of Florence was to visit the Duomo and go up to the top of the dome.

When the Duomo, officially named the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, was first designed in 1296, the architectural technology did not yet exist to design the massive dome – but the Florentines pressed onward, confident that it would be developed eventually. It was with the placing of the copper ball atop the lantern at the apex of the dome, that marked the completion in 1469 of the cathedral that had taken over 170 years to construct.

Chris and I climbed the winding, twisting, and very long staircase to arrive at the top. About midway, one could walk the inside perimeter and get a better look at the amazing artwork that adorns the dome. Outside we got a beautiful panorama of the Florence city. Although it was a little disorganized as the lazy Italians working there didn’t offer much assistance in regulating who came up or went down at any given time, it was a lot less crowded and more relaxing than the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City.

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In front of the beautiful Florence Cathedral (the Duomo)

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Side of the cathedral, with the largest masonry dome in the world

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Taking a breather as we scaled the 463 steps to the top of the dome

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Giorgio Vasari’s fresco inside the dome was completed by Federico Zuccaro eleven years after it was started

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Chris and me on top of the world…or at least the dome

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Bird’s eye view of the Palazzo Vecchio and the Loggia dei Lanzi

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A great overview of the city. The white church sticking out by my head is Santa Croce.

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I think I see Chris and Sarah’s house…

After descending the dome and taking a quick peek inside the church (which would have cost extra to tour) we stopped back by the baptistery. Sarah and I had stopped by here on Wednesday, but I didn’t get my picture with the famous (but reproduction) Gates of Paradise, so Chris thankfully talked me into it.

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With the famous east doors this time. Read more about The Gates of Paradise here

We were nearby so Chris and I swung into the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata (Church of the Most Holy Annunciation), a church founded in 1250 with the building completed in 1481. Once again this was a case where the exterior wasn’t all that impressive, but the inside was massive and ornate. We saw another one of those chapels where the saint representing it had ‘saved’ the lives of some of the worshipers and they had left their family shields and such on the wall to honor them.

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Exterior of the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata

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Families had adorned the wall with their family shields, indicating their thanks to Saints who had spared their lives in some fashion

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The inside of the church

Another church we happened by was the Church of St. Margaret, also known as Dante’s Church. It was in this church that he had met Beatrice Portinari, who had inspired much of his poetry – but apparently not enough to marry her. He in fact married his wife Gemma Donati in this church as well. There was some sort of ‘Dante’ day going on in Florence so this church was so packed that we didn’t even go inside. Nearby the church was a Dante museum, which sat on the site of one of his possible former homes. We didn’t go in here either.

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Outside Dante’s Church. We never made it inside.

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Lost in translation…this is the house-museum of Dante, three floors of Dante exhibits. He did not however actually live here. It was built in the early 1900’s on the site of a possible former home

And for the very final historical location of the trip was (drumroll…) the Fondazione Casa Buonarroti, which we thought was the birthplace of Michelangelo. Turns out it is not, but merely a library of books that was originated by descendants of Michelangelo. In fact, Michelangelo wasn’t even born in Florence! So basically it was nothing. The most historical aspect of this building is that it was the last stop on my tour of Italy. Anticlimactic indeed. And we even had to pass through one of Italy’s famous – but pointless – protests to get there.

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Outside the nothingness that was the Fondazione Casa Buonarroti

I took Chris and Sarah out to eat as a thanks for the fabulous job they did of hosting and guiding me through the week, along with the promise that they would pick me up a souvenir t-shirt and bring it on home. (Chris made good on that promise when he showed up at my front door back in Ohio on Wednesday, August 9, with shirt in hand – mine, not his). We had a very nice meal with some some great appetizers, wine, and I enjoyed a delicious pappardelle pasta in wild boar sauce – followed by some homemade Italian-style cream pudding.

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The Za Za appetizers. Anyone hungry now?

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 My final Italian dinner – at Za Za’s

When we got home, we relaxed and I took a few photos to help remember my lodgings for the week. Kellin and Sarah started to watch Quantum of Solace on the laptop. Chris decided to head to bed and I soon followed (different bed though). We would have to get up at 2am to begin the initial stages of getting my butt back home, followed by the rest of me. I told him to wake me up. He responded “Before I go go?”

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Chris and Sarah’s nice roommate Kellin. We didn’t cross paths a whole lot during the week, but she was kind enough to put up with my presence and help me get home!

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The living room. And Chris.

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The kitchen. And Chris.

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The other Sarah’s room. This was my home base and fortress of nighttime solitude for all but two night’s of my Italy stay

Sure enough, Chris was knocking on my door at 2am. I took a quick shower and we headed out on foot to the bus station, dragging along my bags – which were now weighted down with some of Sarah’s books and shoes that I would be taking home for them so that they wouldn’t have to take so much when they would be moving back two and a half months later.

Chris was originally going to be kind enough to escort me all the way back to the Pisa airport by train, but then we decided that it wouldn’t really be necessary. The trains were either running so that I would arrive at the airport with only minutes to spare or so early that I would be spending all night in the airport. Kellin found this bus route that would be a compromise. It would depart at 3:30, get me to Pisa at 4:30 for my flight at 7:35. Either way, there was a long wait. It sucked but I dealt.

The airport opened at 5:00, so I checked in, found my terminal, grabbed a Foccacia Tonda, and heard Attimo by Gianna Nannini for the third and final time of the week, playing on the video monitor in the airport deli. The flight to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris was uneventful. I arrived there at 9:20am. Let me just say that this is the most annoying and pretentious airport I’ve ever been in.

We had to take a bus from the terminal in which I landed to the terminal from which I departed. And we had to go through customs all over again. The line looked like the line for Space Mountain. It took well over an hour. Then there was absolutely no fast food or delis to grab something to eat, only fancy restaurants. Thankfully though, there was internet access that I could use some of my remaining Euro change to access. It was nice to finally board my final flight and know that I would be making it home without incident barring any plane crash.

It left at 12:05pm and arrived in Cincinnati at 3:25. Total time: 9 hours and 20 mintues. It was surprisingly bearable, as I watched Quantum of Solace and Frost/Nixon and did a bit of dozing here and there. We landed, I went through customs, grabbed my luggage, and Mom picked me up at the airport just like clockwork. It almost made up for the horrendous journey and wait while in Europe.

This Italy trip was amazing and wonderful (and all of those other similar adjectives) and will certainly be considered as one of my greatest trips ever, but it was still nice to be back in the good old USA, ready to embark on another series of domestic adventures… starting with figuring out who to kill first.  

Return to the beginning of the trip

Continue with 2009

One Response to “Looking Over Florence One Last Time”

  1. After Fra Angelico’s time at San Marco, Girolamo Savonarola lived in the cloister. He went on to be the leader of Florence for a short time before he was executed in a fire in the Piazza della Signoria. Oh, and Fra Bartolomeo was in San Marco too, after 1501.
    I saw that dumb tourist from the cloister all over Italy that week.
    Why isn’t Kellin wearing any pants?

    We had a great time showing you around that weird country. I’m still waiting for my tour of Fairborn.

    chris

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