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Taking advantage of our current proximity to the whole of Europe, Tim and I went to Italy last weekend.
Friday
We flew into Pisa on Friday morning, then took a “coach” into Florence. It was an exhausting day of travel, but we made it in one piece and was extremely relieved to find that our hotel, Colomba, was close, clean, and run by the friendliest woman in town. The building itself was 18th century, but the inside had been totally gutted and modernized. Although an old-school Italian villa experience would have been quaint, there is something to be said for clean reliable accommodation.
I’m pretty certain that our first Florence dining experience was not entirely “authentic”. The restaurant, Zaza’s, was crawling with my countrymen. The pasta with chile and prawns was flavorful, but the bread was underwhelming. And the house wine - a shambles!
After dinner we strolled into the centro storico to behold the massive Santa Maria del Fiore (the cathedral otherwise known as the Duomo, affectionally pronounced “Dwo-mo” by the easily amused). The dome of the cathedral was built in 1436, but the insanely hardcore neogothic facade was constructed in 1888. I remember thinking “Wow, this will be very impressive in the daylight.” However, meteorological effects would see to it that I miss this treasured sight …
We found after dinner drinks at the perfect Cafe Coquinarius, a wine bar near the Duomo. For weeks I’ve been searching for a chill place in London to have a quiet coffee or a drink. For some reason I have trouble relaxing at the cafes in London - there’s a certain essence of “settling-in-ness” that places in London seem to miss out on. Cafe Conquinarius was the place I’d been looking for - quiet, calm, dimly (but not too dimly) lit. The were playing pleasant music, as well: a bit of Billy Holliday and a little bit more of some bossa nova. We talked about non-depressing things and sampled some Italian red wine:
Influence by the Tuscany’s reputation for good chiantis, Tim tried the 1996 Chianti Rufina Reserva Nipozzano, which he found to be “pointless . . . especially for 8 euros.” He was more impressed with his next choice: a 2003 Morellino di Scansano. My 2002 Rosso di Montalcino was so good that I indulged in two glasses of it! The montalcino is a robust red, with an essence of caramel. Could I be making this up as I go along?? Maybe . . . but it really did taste a bit caramel-ly!
…it’s a damn shame that the perfect cafe is all the way in Italia.
Saturday
Breakfast at the hotel was sublime. My bran flakes were superb and a welcome alternative to the ever popular croissant. My banana was at the perfect stage of ripeness. Tim enjoyed some Nutella with his tea. We were fueled for a day of tourism and aimless wandering.
Sadly, we were cursed with a pervasively cloudy day and picture taking was mostly discouraging. On the upside, I avoided seeing all of Florence through a camera lens.
We decided to keep our museum adventures to a minimum (after all, who wants to spend their one full day in Florence cooped up in crowded museums?). We decided to get this leg of the journey over with, and made our first stop at the Galleria Dell’Accademia to behold Michelangelo’s masterpiece: the sculpture of David.
David is phenomenal. The first point of awe is its very size: it’s over 5 metres tall! Even our untrained eyes could recognize the perfection of the human form in this image. We just stood in amazement for about 5 minutes, exchanged a few words about David’s expression (concerned or contemplative?) and then officially declared that all other human sculpture is forever ruined for us. David is the epitome. Check. ✓ Done.
While we were at the gallery, we spied a pack of tourists from no other place than Texas. They really do stand out like a sore swollen thumb. Some even wore cowboy hats. I even spied some feathered hair, and a mullet or two (and not the “in” kind of mullet that is all the rage with the kids these days - what is up with that by the way?).
We went by the Dwo-mo for a peak inside. We heard one tourist comment that it was “more impressive from the outside”: I felt mutually. We mistakenly paid 3 euros for what we thought was a trip up to the top of the dome, but was actually a visit to the crypt, a mostly forgettable excursion.
We left tourist hell to pursue the Lonely Planet Guide’s recommended walking tour of “Local Florence”. Along the way Tim found a UV filter for his camera. It was cold outside, but pleasantly less crowded than I expected: hurrah for off-season travel.
The walk was accentuated by a few wrong turns, several close calls with piles of doggy doo doo, and via after via of shuttered homes whose earthy colors would have looked much better in the sun.
Coffee is a special thing in italy: strong and smooth. I didn’t drink nearly enough of it. I did not have the same problem with red wine. We had lunch that afternoon at Il Pizzaiuolo. Their house red was tasty, and their bruschetta divine: light fluffy bread, just enough garlic, and very fresh pomodoro. Tim’s Pizza Caprese was perfect, and my Spaghetti d’Angelo was also delightful. Our waiter was a sweet old gent who managed our “pigeon Italian” much better than we handled his only slightly broken English. Tim is cutely embarrassed when he attempts to converse with foreigners in their own tongue. I enjoyed this greatly.
Tim’s final thoughts on Il Pizzaiuolo: “This is a good lunch.” I couldn’t agree more!
Lunch preceded more wandering. We saw the replica of ‘David’ in the Piazza Signoria followed by a bunch of fuckwits at the Ufizzi who were gawking at those fools in make-up who feign talent by standing stone still for minutes at a time. We found moleskins for 5 euros at a bookshop and stocked up. Now Tim and I match: puke!
When we felt we had gone for a reasonable amount of time without consuming, we headed to Caffe Megara for an aperitif before dinner at Bella Donna. The restaurant was a great place all around - the food, the traditional atmosphere, the wine, the friendly service. It was here I decided that I absolutely must learn enough Italian to read the menus. The good places in Italy don’t have English menus, and the whole not-eating-meat thing makes it tricky to be entirely spontaneous with food choices. Still, I managed a nice dish of pasta with marinara and fish.
After dinner we went back to Caffe Conquinarius and were once again elated that it was still damn cool. We were so pleased that we made a list of the reasons why we liked it so much (maybe someday when we are wealthy entrepanuers we’ll recreate it):
1. friendly staff
2. solid, well-spaced tables
3. unpretentious but charming posters advertising old school alcohol products: campari, amaro falsina rammazzotti, maccheroni piangiani
4. great lighting
5. the music: not too loud, but audibly clear. they didn’t fall into the bad effect of turning up the music when the crowd became louder
6. high ceilings which elicited the feeling of spaciousness despite the small size of the cafe
7. big glass front window
8. delicious wine by the glass
9. food that we didn’t try but looked very nice
10. it’s non smoking!
Sunday
Caught the bus back to Pisa (after yet another delicious breakfast at the hotel). We had several hours before the flight back to London, so we headed into central Pisa for a look around.
The first thing to greet us was the sun! We made a beeline for the Leaning Tower which is fairly neat and surrounded by other impressive old white marble buildings. It may be a tourist mecca, but it was well worth seeing. We had lunch and gelato in the sun - such a treat after a long London winter. On the way back to the train station we spied some graffiti that actually turned out to be a giant mural by Keith Haring. Fairly impressive.
Our flight was delayed and we had to chill out at the airport for a couple hours. But it was ok, I wasn’t that thrilled about having to go back to London so soon. Monday would mark two weeks until I leave London. The time flies way too quickly.
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