Florence, an introduction

We arrive in Florence, and into what is truly the Italian leg of the trip. Venice is a city filled with such an "otherness" that it is probably not indicative of what the rest of Italy felt like (however, we would find that each region of Italy can differ vastly from the others). Considered to be the heart of the Renaissance movement, and with the prominent shadow of the Medici family still felt, Florence seems driven by three forces: art, money, and politics. The true beauty of the area, I feel, lies in its surrounding countryside, with its vineyards, stone pines, and cypresses. Once you leave this, you enter into a rather pedestrian outer layer of the city, with many modern complexes and architecture, which is where we stayed. From here, it is about a 15 minute walk into the densely packed historical section of the city, where most of the interest lies, and where most of the tourists gather. At this point, we had been traveling for weeks, but nothing we had seen in prior cities prepared us for the overwhelming gobs of sightseers in Florence. Unlike, say, Rome, Florentine visitors tend to wander free of tour groups, surrounding us in an odd and, to be honest, mostly obnoxious, English cocoon. While I know that I've complained about Americans acting holier than thou about tourism (I've never claimed to not be a hypocrite), I think everyone in our group became increasingly annoyed at having to constantly overhear pretentious and/or clueless people groping their way through the city. My eyes rolled so much, I worried someone would think I was having some sort of seizure.

   So, let's talk a little about that "art, politics, and money." Florence, thanks in large part to the aforementioned Medicis' patronage/greed, has an astounding amount of incredible art, most of it housed in some of the world's most amazing museums. Yes, it really does garner that many superlatives. For me, the art and the history oftentimes outshone the architecture, and, indeed, the city itself. Florence in July is hot, and hot in a uniquely inescapable way. You simply get used to sweating all the time (or, as I once said, "I'm glistening like the top of the Chrysler Building!"), and only lying perfectly still in the shade offered any sort of relief. Along with the heat came the smells, and Florence has the tremendously dubious distinction of being the stinkiest city that we visited. Essentially, about once every few minutes, you got a big whiff of sewage. Once when I was buying gelato, one of these odors wafted by, and I wrinkled my nose. The gelatiere looked alarmed and said, "It's not me, it's...," and pointed down to the sewer grate. Also, being about the height of most people's armpits, I got that odoriferous delight as well. The heat and the smells were compounded by the fact that the main areas of Florence are very dense. Like Venice, it has the small streets (though nothing compared to Venice, where you can get a 'the walls are closing in' feeling), interspersed with courtyards. In most of the historical section, cars are not allowed, excepting taxis and tiny service vehicles. Florence is a bike city, and we're not talking bicycle. And we're not talking 'hogs'. Vespas and Suzukis are everywhere, and everyone, from little old ladies to businessmen in 3-piece suits, zip around in them. Walking down the streets, sometimes it looked like a Japanese motorbike dealer had just parked his entire inventory on the street.

   Where were we? Ah, yes. Politics and money. Everything costs in Florence. Everything. Accustomed to the other nine countries we visited, it was a little disconcerting to be confronted with prices on what was free everywhere else. Additionally, Florence is really quite skilled at breaking things up to maximize their earnings. Many places have "packages" where they put one interesting thing in each package, along with a lot of fluff. So, you have to buy every package if you want to see all of what any logical person would want to. Pretty sneaky, sis. 

   Additionally, the bureaucracy and institutional organization (or lack of it) had me longing for other countries' which I had previously disparaged. Museums, ticketing offices, etc. tend to keep very odd hours. Essentially, the hours are "we are open when we feel like it." Information on the Internet is often wrong or outdated or conflicting with what is officially posted (which might be ignored anyway). Often, people show up to work when they feel like it, and it seems so ingrained that a lot of Italians seem to greet it with a sigh and a shrug. And, while some complain, they'll also participate in it themselves. In addition to the opening and closing times being confusing, Italian (and especially Florentine) sights frequently have a bewildering ticketing system. Here is a typical example.

"I would like to buy 2 adult tickets."

"No, you do that at (names a totally unrelated business/museum that is blocks away)."

"Oh, okay..."

"But they're closed for three hours right now."

"Oh. Well, I guess I can purchase tickets for tomorrow morning..."

"Oh, we're closed tomorrow morning. But, I can sell you this premium ticket for when we open at (names a time that is not on the sign, nor advertised anywhere in existence). With it, you get to join the smaller line."

*Sigh*

So, there's a common exchange. And they don't feel any sort of pressure to improve it because the general attitude seems to be, 'We've got a million of you people. You seem to come no matter what. We don't care if you get a little frustrated or we lose a few of you.'

   And, admittedly, the slowness sometimes forced you to give up and slow down for awhile. And that was something that was nice about being in Italy, the flip side to the frustration if you will. You have to relax. You have no other choice. Calm down, look around, discover some art. For a small fee.