Six Flavors & Attitude

Florence is cosmopolitan and sophisticated and exciting and cold. Despite freezing my ass off, we're having a great time. We'll see what happens when it's twenty degrees colder in Austria... But for now, the highlights of our day. This morning was a blast of cultural activity. See, museums and stuff here pretty much operate on the "whenever we feel like it" system. Seriously, I think the idea of schedules goes against some kind of Italian cultural sensibility or something. But anyway for fear of things closing, we got stuff DONE this morning, which meant a series of museums, churches, and sights that I confess have already started to blend together in my head. But, Cindy reminds me, first we went to the Medici chapel, followed by the Bascillica San Lorenzo, followed by the Duomo Museum (which was closed by the time we got to the Duomo itself yesterday), the Bargello (sp?) and finally the Ufizzi. Lots of art, and bones, including the finger of John the Baptist and the jawbone of San Lorenzo. Or so they claim. I was somewhat skeptical. Or really, I was spending my time on feminist theory as I compared the nude male sculptures to the nude females and wondered how come the male genitalia was so, um, detailed, and the females just appeared to have an absence thereof. Anyway I babbled a lot about this I think, as we shuttled from museo to museo. Really liked the Bargello, where the building itself was as pretty as the artwork. By the time we hit the Ufizzi though, I was kind of arted out and the Boticellis kind of went by in a blur...

... which clearly indicated it was time for a break. Unfortunately after like five museums we didn't have the energy to be choosy so we found ourselves in a touristy cafe in the middle of the Piazza di Signoria which we regretted the minute we got there because we were subjected to listening to this annoyingly loud Italian archetype guy making friends with an even more annoyingly archtypical American family. Example. "I come to your country, you can show me around San Francisco." "Oh, definitely. We know a lot of good Italian food there." "No, no Italian food, I want zee seafood..." They were loud enough that we had to hear their entire small talky chatty conversation, down to where he should take his father-in-law for lunch. Fortunately (for them) they left before I killed them.

Anyway we had a mediocre lunch, and then headed for the Ponte Vecchio and what I hoped would finally be my chance for the best gelato in the world. We went to one of the places recommended by Rick Steves, but I was disappointed. First of all, when I think Gelato, I think like about 100 flavors laid out in like 6 freezers. That's how it is at Angelato on the Promenade anyway. Okay, fine, not everything, even Florence, can compare to the culture of Santa MOnica :-; but when we were in the south of France, there were similar places. Well, this place had about six flavors, and I tasted one, found it so-so, and asked for another taste to which the woman haughtily replied that I only get one. Okay, I know this isn't Santa Monica, or anything, but even at Angelato, you get three. ONE? Isn't the whole CONCEPT of gelato to taste a few before you make your selection? Anyway I decided I didn't like her so we moved on. Finally settled on one of the overpriced touristy places Rick Steves warned me about (7 Euros for a cup of ice cream? Really?) -- but it was homemade, fresh, and finished with a waffle on top, so how could I complain? Still though the flavor selection was surprisingly limited. Anyway it was good, and so huge that Cindy and I just shared one instead of getting another, and tomorrow I will make one more valiant effort for the "real" gelato experience I had in mind.

Anyway we sat and ate our ice cream on the Ponte Vecchio, which was very picturesque and full of tacky tourist stands which I loved. From there we slowly made our way back, meandering throug the "mercatos" (markets) trying to find a purse and feeling overwhelmed by the choices and wishing I had a sense of style or could magically import Sharon or Katie to tell me what to buy. Anyway I did not find a purse but we did find the Porcino (the pig) at the market -- a metal pig sculpture whose head you're supposed to rub to ensure that you will return to FLorence again one day. So we rubbed his head. Oh, and you're supposed to give him coins, too, and we watched as some sort of either city employee or intrepid homeless man collected them all. Then as we continued back Cindy was happy to find the Baptistry was open -- again, randomly, for no real reason, and we went in for a while and stared at the ceiling. Though I do get sick of art, somehow I never get sick of those amazing, ornate, decorative story-telling dome-shaped ceilings.

Leaving there we were treated to something odd and unexpected. There was some sort of traveling Renaissance marching band drumming their way through the streets. The drumming sounded more ominous than festive, like they were taking someone to be executed or something... but they were dressed in full on Renaissance garb marching their way through the streets. I have no idea why exactly but it was kind of hilarious. See for yourself.



After that we walked through another market and I bought a cute coat like I'd been eyeing on many of the girls here, which really isn't warm enough for me here but will be super cute and just right for LA winter. Tried on a pair of boots despite the fact that the vendor knew full well when I told him I was a 6 1/2, that the size he had wouldn't fit me (what, did he think I'd like, buy them anyway? Cause my foot might grow two sizes? Or that I wouldn't notice??) Anyway now we're back at our hotel room resting up for our big night at the OPERA tonight. Nervous about staying awake since we've been going to bed so early and I have no idea how interesting I will find it. WE shall see.