Our second day in Italia dawned bright and exceedingly early, especially for those of us suffering from jet-lag who had only just fallen back to sleep about four a.m. But awake we did, and stumbled down to a delightful breakfast in the charming Hotel Accademia.
We walked over to the Uffizi Gallery and met our tour guide Ricardo, who masterfully led us through the maze of rooms that once were the offices of the celebrated Medici family that are filled to the rafters with priceless works of art. Ricardo gave us a brief history of art from the Dark Ages through to the late Renaissance by skillfully comparing paintings of the Madonna and Child through the ages. I felt as though I were at a college lecture.
The trouble with the Uffizi is that it is so HUGE that there comes a moment when, unless you actually ARE an art historian, you feel as though your brain is full, and you need a change of pace.
We adjourned to the Gallery’s delightful cafeteria for a glass of wine and a salad and were thus fortified to make our assault on the Boboli Gardens and Pitti Palace.
We crossed the Arno River over the Ponte alla Grazie (Bridge of Thanks?) and began searching for a way to the gardens. We got a bit lost, and ended up climbing approximately one million stairs
on our way to the top of a hill which afforded us a magnificent view of Florence, complete with the Duomo (the Dome, i.e. major church)
as well as the fabled Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge),
which used to be used by butchers until the Medici had them banished from the bridge and replaced by jewelers. The Medici family also built a second story on the bridge which led them from the town hall to the Pitti Palace, their rather spacious digs across the Arno.
At any rate, we climbed this unending staircase and took in the views, but not to worry. We soon rewarded ourselves with what to become our daily indulgence—gelato. Gelato is Italian for the best ice cream (actually made with whole milk, not cream) that you have ever tasted in your life. It is smooth, it is creamy, it comes in unimaginable flavors, and yes, we were already addicted to this lovely confection. I feel I can say, without fear of contradiction, that gelato
makes life worth living.
So we climbed a hill and had a gander at Florence, after which we descended that steep staircase and wandered along the River Arno, finally ducking into the Pitti Palace (circa 1458), home of Medici family and the rulers of Tuscany, which consists of big, big rooms, lots of art and those elusive Boboli Gardens tucked behind it.
After a brief, obligatory stop at a café for a glass of wine and a cheese platter, we dashed back to our hotel between the raindrops (actually the only inclement weather on our trip), and went out for some authentic Italian (thin crust) pizza.
Of course, no self-respecting Italian goes out to dinner before 8 o’clock or later, so our 7:30 dinner time made us Italian early birds.
Then it was time to get back to our rooms and try to pack everything up for our next day’s journey to the magical seaside villages of the Cinque Terre, by way of Lucca.
We walked over to the Uffizi Gallery and met our tour guide Ricardo, who masterfully led us through the maze of rooms that once were the offices of the celebrated Medici family that are filled to the rafters with priceless works of art. Ricardo gave us a brief history of art from the Dark Ages through to the late Renaissance by skillfully comparing paintings of the Madonna and Child through the ages. I felt as though I were at a college lecture.
The trouble with the Uffizi is that it is so HUGE that there comes a moment when, unless you actually ARE an art historian, you feel as though your brain is full, and you need a change of pace.
We adjourned to the Gallery’s delightful cafeteria for a glass of wine and a salad and were thus fortified to make our assault on the Boboli Gardens and Pitti Palace.
We crossed the Arno River over the Ponte alla Grazie (Bridge of Thanks?) and began searching for a way to the gardens. We got a bit lost, and ended up climbing approximately one million stairs
on our way to the top of a hill which afforded us a magnificent view of Florence, complete with the Duomo (the Dome, i.e. major church)
as well as the fabled Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge),
which used to be used by butchers until the Medici had them banished from the bridge and replaced by jewelers. The Medici family also built a second story on the bridge which led them from the town hall to the Pitti Palace, their rather spacious digs across the Arno.At any rate, we climbed this unending staircase and took in the views, but not to worry. We soon rewarded ourselves with what to become our daily indulgence—gelato. Gelato is Italian for the best ice cream (actually made with whole milk, not cream) that you have ever tasted in your life. It is smooth, it is creamy, it comes in unimaginable flavors, and yes, we were already addicted to this lovely confection. I feel I can say, without fear of contradiction, that gelato
makes life worth living.So we climbed a hill and had a gander at Florence, after which we descended that steep staircase and wandered along the River Arno, finally ducking into the Pitti Palace (circa 1458), home of Medici family and the rulers of Tuscany, which consists of big, big rooms, lots of art and those elusive Boboli Gardens tucked behind it.
After a brief, obligatory stop at a café for a glass of wine and a cheese platter, we dashed back to our hotel between the raindrops (actually the only inclement weather on our trip), and went out for some authentic Italian (thin crust) pizza.
Of course, no self-respecting Italian goes out to dinner before 8 o’clock or later, so our 7:30 dinner time made us Italian early birds.Then it was time to get back to our rooms and try to pack everything up for our next day’s journey to the magical seaside villages of the Cinque Terre, by way of Lucca.
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