Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Four Mysteries of Florence
Mystery #1. Coffee making is a solved mystery. Having never used this kind of espresso coffee pot, I was afraid it could explode on the stove (why else would there be a pressure relief valve on the side?). Seeing no other coffee pot in my kitchen, I purchased coffee with a picture of this kind of coffee pot on the label. The coffee tasted less burnt after adjusting the flame to the lowest level. My coffee pot makes one regular cup or two espresso cups of very strong coffee. I see, now, that it is not likely to cause injury.
Mystery #2, Electricity. There are three kinds of plugs and two kinds of wall sockets. There is the "normal" two thin-pronged plug, like on a lamp. There is a three pronger, with the third post presumably a ground (like in the U.S.), and then there is a round plug with two fat prongs. Wall sockets are either the three thin-hole type, which can take either the two or three thin-pronged plugs, or a deep set type for a fat two pronger.
Mystery #3. Italians use 24 hour time (18.00 = 6PM) but a 12 hour clock. Must be helpful for children learning how to add.
Mystery #4. Another solved mystery (sort of) is the string pull in every bathroom. I refrained from pulling it for several weeks, not knowing what would happen if I did. Finally, in a hotel room in San Gigignamo, overwhelmed by curiosity, I pulled the darn thing one morning after getting out of bed. It rang the doorbell and woke Bruce up.
Mystery #2, Electricity. There are three kinds of plugs and two kinds of wall sockets. There is the "normal" two thin-pronged plug, like on a lamp. There is a three pronger, with the third post presumably a ground (like in the U.S.), and then there is a round plug with two fat prongs. Wall sockets are either the three thin-hole type, which can take either the two or three thin-pronged plugs, or a deep set type for a fat two pronger.
Mystery #3. Italians use 24 hour time (18.00 = 6PM) but a 12 hour clock. Must be helpful for children learning how to add.
Mystery #4. Another solved mystery (sort of) is the string pull in every bathroom. I refrained from pulling it for several weeks, not knowing what would happen if I did. Finally, in a hotel room in San Gigignamo, overwhelmed by curiosity, I pulled the darn thing one morning after getting out of bed. It rang the doorbell and woke Bruce up.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Skyscrapers In Fashion
Building tall is not a modern idea, it's been in fashion since undertakers rolled carts through medieval streets chanting "Bring Out Your Dead." Ambling into the countryside after renting a car, Bruce (in Florence on holiday) and I took a road-trip through Tuscany.
Our first stop was Siena. After wandering about in it's medieval streets, we came to the shell shaped Piazza del Campo. Restaurants line the upper border facing the very tall clock tower (330 ft. or over 30 stories). We had a lunch (pizza for me, a sandwich for Bruce) and a cold beer as we warmed ourselves in the sun.
Siena's Duomo (main cathedral) is a short walk from the piazza. It is a spectacularly beautiful black and white striped behemoth. A huge "new" nave was left partially built, its construction having died when the Plague hit Sienna in 1348.
Next, we headed for San Gimignano to hold up for the night. On our way we made a quick turn and drove up to a walled hilltop. We walked through the gate and entered what was once a medieval convent or hospital. We snuck up the stairs (closed for the season) and walked on the ramparts to get a view of the famous Tuscan countryside.
Arriving in San Gimignano late in the day, we secured a hotel room overlooking a 13th c. piazza. San Gigignano's 14 tall towers (there were originally over 70) were built for protection and status, and are forerunners of today's urban skylines. The plague decimated the city's population and left these remaining towers undisturbed for centuries.
One of the few open restaurants (it's off season) was quiet when we entered, but by nine o'clock was filled with locals and tourists enjoying dinner. I had a delicious pasta, Bruce had, er, don't remember, but it was good, too. Our desert was warmed at the table.
The next morning was sunny and cool, with market stalls being set up in the square below our window.
A 12th c. Romanesque Church with an interior covered in fresco painting cycles from the old and new testaments was a last stop before leaving town.
A long serpentine ride through the hills of Chianti eventually brought us to Cortona. Along the way, we stopped briefly for a little wine tasting and purchased a bottle of local Chianti (what else?). Cortona is way up a on the side of a mountain. We parked in the center of town, putting a couple of euros in a parking machine.
Cars wound about its steep medieval streets, while locals chatted and watched the few tourists. We passed up the first hotel, kinda dumpy, and ended up at a little B&B not far from the center of the village. As we walked around, Bruce caught sight of a poster for a jazz performance. After our dinner in a pleasant trattoria, we sauntered to the Signorelli Theater, an 1859 neo classic "opera house" like place. Gianni Basso, a famous, but aging, Italian tenor sax player and his quartet provided an evening of lovely classic jazz. We had front row seats.
The next morning, after a brief tour around the town, we chose the highway knowing the drive would be a couple of hours. Suffering from stimulus overload, we wanted to make it to Lucca and then Pisa, see the darn Leaning Tower already, and be home for dinner.
Lucca is a renaissance, rather than medieval, city. The streets are wider and lined with larger palazzos. Its open piazza's (squares) are appropriately populated with more upscale shops and restaurants. A change from the claustrophobically narrow streets and stone houses of our earlier stops. Lucca, too, has it's share of tall phallic constructions. Though mostly church campaniles (bell towers), the city's symbol is a medieval tower with oak trees growing on the top (we didn't find it). Ok, been there, done that, off we go.
I often poo-poo famous tourist sites. When I do see them, I understand why they are in so many pictures. Pisa's baptistry and duomo with it's leaning campanile, rising in white marble on the green lawn of the "Field of Miracles" is a true wonder. The Leaning Tower would be impressive even if it were not falling over.
I think about the Plague having destroyed the population in cities like Siena and San Gimignano, leaving it's towers as symbols of man's necessary humbleness in the face of nature. I also think about the destruction of the World Trade Center towers on 9/11 and how lack of humility seems like the human plague for which there is no cure. The majestic Leaning Tower of Pisa, forever in the act of falling, becomes a reminder, perhaps, of human pride constantly leading to man's fall.
Bruce and I had lunch with the Leaning Tower of Pisa as a backdrop. Happy and contented, we headed for good old Florence.
Our first stop was Siena. After wandering about in it's medieval streets, we came to the shell shaped Piazza del Campo. Restaurants line the upper border facing the very tall clock tower (330 ft. or over 30 stories). We had a lunch (pizza for me, a sandwich for Bruce) and a cold beer as we warmed ourselves in the sun.
Siena's Duomo (main cathedral) is a short walk from the piazza. It is a spectacularly beautiful black and white striped behemoth. A huge "new" nave was left partially built, its construction having died when the Plague hit Sienna in 1348.
Next, we headed for San Gimignano to hold up for the night. On our way we made a quick turn and drove up to a walled hilltop. We walked through the gate and entered what was once a medieval convent or hospital. We snuck up the stairs (closed for the season) and walked on the ramparts to get a view of the famous Tuscan countryside.
Arriving in San Gimignano late in the day, we secured a hotel room overlooking a 13th c. piazza. San Gigignano's 14 tall towers (there were originally over 70) were built for protection and status, and are forerunners of today's urban skylines. The plague decimated the city's population and left these remaining towers undisturbed for centuries.
One of the few open restaurants (it's off season) was quiet when we entered, but by nine o'clock was filled with locals and tourists enjoying dinner. I had a delicious pasta, Bruce had, er, don't remember, but it was good, too. Our desert was warmed at the table.
The next morning was sunny and cool, with market stalls being set up in the square below our window.
A 12th c. Romanesque Church with an interior covered in fresco painting cycles from the old and new testaments was a last stop before leaving town.
A long serpentine ride through the hills of Chianti eventually brought us to Cortona. Along the way, we stopped briefly for a little wine tasting and purchased a bottle of local Chianti (what else?). Cortona is way up a on the side of a mountain. We parked in the center of town, putting a couple of euros in a parking machine.
Cars wound about its steep medieval streets, while locals chatted and watched the few tourists. We passed up the first hotel, kinda dumpy, and ended up at a little B&B not far from the center of the village. As we walked around, Bruce caught sight of a poster for a jazz performance. After our dinner in a pleasant trattoria, we sauntered to the Signorelli Theater, an 1859 neo classic "opera house" like place. Gianni Basso, a famous, but aging, Italian tenor sax player and his quartet provided an evening of lovely classic jazz. We had front row seats.
The next morning, after a brief tour around the town, we chose the highway knowing the drive would be a couple of hours. Suffering from stimulus overload, we wanted to make it to Lucca and then Pisa, see the darn Leaning Tower already, and be home for dinner.
Lucca is a renaissance, rather than medieval, city. The streets are wider and lined with larger palazzos. Its open piazza's (squares) are appropriately populated with more upscale shops and restaurants. A change from the claustrophobically narrow streets and stone houses of our earlier stops. Lucca, too, has it's share of tall phallic constructions. Though mostly church campaniles (bell towers), the city's symbol is a medieval tower with oak trees growing on the top (we didn't find it). Ok, been there, done that, off we go.
I often poo-poo famous tourist sites. When I do see them, I understand why they are in so many pictures. Pisa's baptistry and duomo with it's leaning campanile, rising in white marble on the green lawn of the "Field of Miracles" is a true wonder. The Leaning Tower would be impressive even if it were not falling over.
I think about the Plague having destroyed the population in cities like Siena and San Gimignano, leaving it's towers as symbols of man's necessary humbleness in the face of nature. I also think about the destruction of the World Trade Center towers on 9/11 and how lack of humility seems like the human plague for which there is no cure. The majestic Leaning Tower of Pisa, forever in the act of falling, becomes a reminder, perhaps, of human pride constantly leading to man's fall.
Bruce and I had lunch with the Leaning Tower of Pisa as a backdrop. Happy and contented, we headed for good old Florence.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Fiesole
Sunday was an excursion to the nearby town of Fiesole. At 8:30 AM, after a quick caffe latte and a pastry thing, I purchased a day bus pass at one of the ubiquitous tabacchi shops (small tobacco, lottery, incidental store). The number 7 city bus (orange) shuttles between Florence and Fiesole.
The machine to stamp the ticket on the bus, like everything else with Italian instructions, was a little confusing. I put my ticket in the slot, but nothing happened! Did it silently put an invisible time stamp on my ticket? Did I do something wrong? I sat down and waited. A bus official got on and I asked (with a lot of pointing). He took my ticket and pushed it in the slot. There was a definite "kachung" and my ticket came out with a visible time stamp. I just hadn't pushed it in far enough (timidity is a product of mystery protocol).
Up, up, up went the bus, with teasing glimpses of the distant countryside between houses, walls, and trees.
Fiesole was the last stop, so I knew to disembark. The large main piazza is rather spartan and is arranged to handle a lot for tourists arriving on buses.
Dominating this main piazza is a medieval bell tower. There was a chocolate festival just starting under some white tents. Later, I would buy few chocolate candies to take home.
An Etruscan/Roman archaeological park and museum looked like an interesting place to go. I took a wrong turn and ended up circling around the perimeter of the park, down and then up steep inclines (considering how much I've been eating, I can use the exercise).
I found the entrance, paid the €10, and walked in to face a startling array of ancient Etruscan and Roman ruins of an amphitheater, baths, and temple. The adjacent museum had the marble, clay, and bronze artifacts, which provided the humanizing element. My favorites were tiny thumb size bronze figures with arms cocked at the elbows with palms up (I'm thinking typical Italian gesture, but probably seen as an ancient religious symbol). I wasn't allowed to take pictures in the museum.
Later I walked up a very steep road to a high point with a terrific view of Florence. Once back down, I had a ham sandwich in a small snack "bar" where there was a late Sunday morning "happy hour" with a little spread of appetizers and orangish colored bubbly (champaign with peach juice, a local favorite).
On my way to the bus, I purchased a few candies at the festival, and had a comfortable ride back to Florence very ready for a Sunday afternoon siesta.
The machine to stamp the ticket on the bus, like everything else with Italian instructions, was a little confusing. I put my ticket in the slot, but nothing happened! Did it silently put an invisible time stamp on my ticket? Did I do something wrong? I sat down and waited. A bus official got on and I asked (with a lot of pointing). He took my ticket and pushed it in the slot. There was a definite "kachung" and my ticket came out with a visible time stamp. I just hadn't pushed it in far enough (timidity is a product of mystery protocol).
Up, up, up went the bus, with teasing glimpses of the distant countryside between houses, walls, and trees.
Fiesole was the last stop, so I knew to disembark. The large main piazza is rather spartan and is arranged to handle a lot for tourists arriving on buses.
Dominating this main piazza is a medieval bell tower. There was a chocolate festival just starting under some white tents. Later, I would buy few chocolate candies to take home.
An Etruscan/Roman archaeological park and museum looked like an interesting place to go. I took a wrong turn and ended up circling around the perimeter of the park, down and then up steep inclines (considering how much I've been eating, I can use the exercise).
I found the entrance, paid the €10, and walked in to face a startling array of ancient Etruscan and Roman ruins of an amphitheater, baths, and temple. The adjacent museum had the marble, clay, and bronze artifacts, which provided the humanizing element. My favorites were tiny thumb size bronze figures with arms cocked at the elbows with palms up (I'm thinking typical Italian gesture, but probably seen as an ancient religious symbol). I wasn't allowed to take pictures in the museum.
Later I walked up a very steep road to a high point with a terrific view of Florence. Once back down, I had a ham sandwich in a small snack "bar" where there was a late Sunday morning "happy hour" with a little spread of appetizers and orangish colored bubbly (champaign with peach juice, a local favorite).
On my way to the bus, I purchased a few candies at the festival, and had a comfortable ride back to Florence very ready for a Sunday afternoon siesta.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
My Happy Birthday
Yesterday, Feb. 8, was my birthday. It was a lovely crisp day with bright sunshine. To celebrate, I took myself to the Galleria dell Academia, one of the most important museums in Florence. At its nondescript entrance, the information board next to the door is all there is to let you know that this is the museum.
Best known for its permanent exhibit of Michelangelo's David, the museum also houses his unfinished "prisoners" (a must see), a passel of 13, 14, and 15th c. locally produced paintings (madonnas galore!), a wonderful collection of medieval Russian icons (more madonnas!), a musical instrument collection, and a strange room filled with plaster busts from the 19th c. Way too much to see.
To finish the day, I took myself to a recommended local trattoria, Il Grillo Parlante, for a celebratory dinner. Though the ebullient waiter complained at first about how slow this time of year was, before long the place was filling up and lively.
I had a traditional three course meal and some red table wine. First was the antipasto, a selection of items on olive oil drizzled toast.
Then the "primo" course, a bowl of pasta and meat sauce (my favorite part of the meal).
The "secundo" course was grilled fish with olives, cherry tomatoes, and, oddly, French fries (which came as a surprise). Ok, but not great, would've been better without the fries.
Finally, for desert I had teramisu. Earlier, the waiter bypassed my table as he was lighting candles, so I said that I was celebrating my birthday and would like my table candle lit, too (an oversight for which he was most apologetic). Later, when he brought the teramisu, there was a birthday candle in it and a table of students from London singing Happy Birthday. A perfect end to my special day. Happy Birthday to me.
Best known for its permanent exhibit of Michelangelo's David, the museum also houses his unfinished "prisoners" (a must see), a passel of 13, 14, and 15th c. locally produced paintings (madonnas galore!), a wonderful collection of medieval Russian icons (more madonnas!), a musical instrument collection, and a strange room filled with plaster busts from the 19th c. Way too much to see.
To finish the day, I took myself to a recommended local trattoria, Il Grillo Parlante, for a celebratory dinner. Though the ebullient waiter complained at first about how slow this time of year was, before long the place was filling up and lively.
I had a traditional three course meal and some red table wine. First was the antipasto, a selection of items on olive oil drizzled toast.
Then the "primo" course, a bowl of pasta and meat sauce (my favorite part of the meal).
The "secundo" course was grilled fish with olives, cherry tomatoes, and, oddly, French fries (which came as a surprise). Ok, but not great, would've been better without the fries.
Finally, for desert I had teramisu. Earlier, the waiter bypassed my table as he was lighting candles, so I said that I was celebrating my birthday and would like my table candle lit, too (an oversight for which he was most apologetic). Later, when he brought the teramisu, there was a birthday candle in it and a table of students from London singing Happy Birthday. A perfect end to my special day. Happy Birthday to me.
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