The Firenze Bucket List

As we set out on our next few days of exploration in Firenze, there is definitely a bucket list of sorts that one must see when visiting here. They are fairly easy to identify as they adorn the back of every tourist map and there is way-finding signage that will lead you to each one of them. 

For one of the best views, and most nightmarish climbs to get there, we flashed our Firenze card and headed to the top of the Duomo, Unlike the climb to the top of the St. Peter's in Rome, Florence's Duomo is far more rustic,confined and unorganized since you are passing people going both ways (both up and down) throughout the entire climb.  When I was here in th e90's, my sister Sarah and I climbed it and I distinctly remember once we got to the inside of the dome (stage 1) the two New York ladies in front of us declared it "not worth it" in their best Linda Richman accent and decided to go back down and just do more shopping. What a shame. I'd agree that it's a bit of a task but even Chris agreed it's pretty amazing to look out over the rooftops and facadesof these buildings that have been here for hundreds and hundreds of years.  As we reached the top - finally- there was an older gentleman comng downn the ladder from the coupola with two canes. We all applauded. It made me think of my mom. She climbed this puppy and I'm so so thankful that she did. When she finally got to the top she nearly plumpited over the edge as she had a rough encounter with some young person at the top who was not being very mindful of others.  There is a bit more  railing protection at the top now, but honestly not much. Luckily she made it, and so did we.

And then there is David. Ahhh sweet David. Not only the perfect specimen of a man but just an amazing history surrounding him as well. Michelangelo born him from an imperfect slab of marble that had been discarded. The way he is standing is perfectly attuned to the fault in the marble, giving the weight to this back leg and hence off the weakened area of the imperfection. And he has emotion - if you look into his eyes and study his body you can make your determination whether he is readying to throw the stone or has already thrown it. I'll let you decide.

The Duomo Museum is a little gem tucked away amidst the construction that houses many treasuers including the Gates of Paradise - the amazing bronze doors adorned with gold that are now restored and awaiting their newly renovated resting place, along with Michelangelo's Pieta of which it is said the artist portrayed himself in the face of Nicodemus. 

And let's not forget the Pitti Palace and Boboli Gardens which tell the story of the amazing reign of the Medici family. Also amid the endless rooms of paintings, sculptues and antiquities is one of my favorite works of art in all of Florence, the Madonna of the Chair by Raphael. Or the San Lorenzo market where Chris got to practice his bargaining skills and we walked away with some great treasures. And the Ponte Vecchio - one of the world's top 10 most famous bridges and home to some of the most stunning jewlery in the worlld. 

There are also so many wonderful little side shows, so to speak, that would make an entire town a destination in the US - like Casa Buonaroti, the House of Michelangelo. There you'll see two relief sculptures he did when he was just 13 years old - I guess Charlie better get busy. And Santo Spirito - the Church that adorns Michelangelo's crucifix,  and Orsanmichele where countless miracles are said to have occured. 

Alas - we have not lacked for things to do here in Florence. There are some who come only to shop,  (via Tournaboni is like the Super Bowl of vogue shopping) and there are others that try to see every church or historic artifact that line her streets. It's a wonderful testament that it's a beautiful place for  young, old, lovers of any kind (art, history, food, wine).   This town is a bucket list in itself and we can check it off - but I have a feeling we'll be back. 

No Plans = No Disappointments

As we sat at dinner on our first night in Firenze, Chris and I were commenting on the fact that we had a clear slate ahead of us. "No plans, means no disappointments," said my very wise husband. We totally get it that not everyone  travels this way. We've passed by hundreds of tour groups with their whispersync head phones being led by their tour guide on their perfectly planned day and sat next to many a family at quaint trattorias and listened to them spew out the agenda for the remainder of the afternoon and week. But, Chris and I only had one agenda, experience Florence to the fullest.  

That being said, one of the very few pre-plan arrangements we made was the purchase of our "Firenze Cards." They are basically 3 day passes to get you into nearly any museum in Florence. It is also very much akin to the Disney Fast Pass, as the handy little red card also allows you to bypass any ticket lines.  This has turned out to be one of our best purchases - worth it's weight in gold. 

So on our first full day in Florence we set out to activate our Firenze card and let the consumption of amazing world renown art begin. We decided to do the biggy first - the Uffizi.  We spent all of 2 minutes in line to get in (thanks to our handy red card) and set out on a nearly 4 hour exploration of one of the worlds best art museums.  I was so thankful to Signora Mercedes Carrara (my Florentine Art History Teacher) for giving me insights into many of the pieces housed in this amazing gallery. I surprisingly remembered a great deal and was able to give Chris little tidbits of information along the way.  

After hours of admiring paintings and works, most of which were painted before the inception of our country, we felt a little numb at the awesomeness of it all. Seeing Master works from the likes of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Raffaello, Donatello,  Fillipo Lippi, and not to mention other non-Florentine artists such as Rembrandt, Rubens and Goya was humbling to say the least. It was hard not to feel as thought we rushed through it and yet, as Chris said, we did it at a pace that was respectful to the art and to our feet! 

 

As if we hadn't seen enough greatness we went on to Santa Croce, the church that boasts, among other treasures, the burial sites of some of the worlds most recognizable historic figures including, Michelangelo, Dante, Galileo and Rossini, just to name a few. It seems arrogant to even write all their names and almost incomprehensible to digest that all of this amazing talent was centered here in this city at various points in history. So what makes greatness? What classifies these people and their work as historic jewels? Partly, I believe, we have to attribute it not only to the sheer excellence of their work, but also the willingness of the culture around them (both at the time of their practicing and today) to not only recognize their talent, but to embrace it, lift it up and use it as a means to better themselves, their culture and the world around them.  We Americans could take a lesson in that. When was the last time we celebrated such accomplishments  of our kids or co-workers for handiwork of theirs that is not based in monetary reward or sports ability but in creativity and diligence of craft?  Hmmm - just a thought. 

As we let our minds wind down from the heaviness of the treasures we were blessed to gaze upon, I convinced Chris to do one more exploration before we called it a day and readied ourselves for dinner. So we set out on a brisk walk up to Piazza Michelangelo. It's a beautifully romantic piazza across the Arno that rests on a hill and gives the most amazing views of the city. More climbing? Yes, but after we got to the top Chris agreed it was worth the workout.  For what seemed like the 100th time already this trip, we held hands, took deep breaths, stole a sweet kiss and rendered ourselves speechless at the beauty before us and the good fortune we have to be amidst it all. 

Our first day of unplanned exploration in Florence was anything but disappointing.          

 

 

 

 

Home Sweet Firenze

My parents have lived in the same house basically since my birth. So, when I want to go home... there it is and there they are. It's a true sense of home and the comforts of the nooks and crannies that know me so well and hold the secrets of my youth and adolescence.  But, if they didn't still live there, I'd have to imagine that the longing I would have for that homey feeling, that sense of pure knowing of oneself, can be felt, at least somewhat, in my coming back to Firenze.  

I came here my Junior year of college 1993/1994. So - it's been 20 years since my feet stumbled upon these beautifully uneven cobblestone streets. And, getting off the train at Santa Maria Novella felt just as welcoming to me as walking through the front door of my parents home. The smell of all the Italian smokers, the people who talk so loud as if they don't know there are hundreds of complete strangers surrounding them, the comfortable buzz of the scooters that line the streets and the mouth-watering aromas of roasting meats, potatoes and various other wonderfulness from all the rosticerias scattered amid the winding streets of this beautifully ancient city.  

Poor Chris was dragged from memory to memory within moments of arrival. The building I lived in, the bar I drank in, the school I studied in, the cafe I drank cappucino in and the ristorante I ate in. 

I think he just smiled and nodded at me for the first 24 hours we were here. I was ablaze with love for my old home and he was kind enough to let me bask in the glow of my memories. 

On our first night in Florence, after a brief walking tour of old home memories we had just enough time for a good dinner before falling into bed.  There are so many wonderful little restaurants tucked away in each crevice of her streets that Florence makes it almost impossible to decide on a meal, at least for those of us who take eating and drinking as seriously as Chris and I do. 

We settled on Bucca Lapi, which claims to be the oldest ristorante in Florence held in the Buca (or basement) of the Antinori Palace which was the home of my school, Gonzaga in Florence, when here 20 years ago.  Buca Lapi is not only a great  restaurant, but it also swims with memories for me as well. I only dined there twice during my stay in the 90's but they were both etched in my brain.  The first was with a group of friends and visiting parents after my first solo recital in Florence at Christmas time. It was lovely. And the second was when my parents came at the end of my second semster to gather  me up and take me back to the States (via a whirlwhind tour of Switzerland and Amsterdam).  "Oh how nice" - you might think - that my parents would take me out for a meal on my last night in Florence. Well - it wasn't exactly that way. You see- we left the day finals were over, so I had to study up until the day we left (good little school girl that I was).   They invited me out for dinner and I declined because of my intense art history exam the next day.  At about 10 o'clock at night after hours of studying, my friends rampaged my room and demanded I go to a farewell dinner with them.  And so I did. And after descending the stairs of Buca Lappi and sitting dowin to a lovely table in the cozy nest of sumptious odors, I looked across the room only to see my Mom and Dad sitting at the table adjacent to us. They were, as always, such good sports and just smiled and waved and gave me the obligatory hard time all while giving me their blessing. 

So Chris and I sat together in the very same spot;  part of me feeling the nostalgia of years past but at the same time, holding the hand of the man I love - the love I dreamed about those 20 years ago. We ate the meal of a lifetime, drank the wine of the gods and soaked up the new memories we are making each moment together. 

And so our adventure begins, in home sweet, Firenze.

 

Il Papa

"We got an audience with the Pope."  I must have said that 50 different times prior to leaving for our trip. What an unusual thing to say. And really, I had no idea what it meant other than the fact that we had the opportunity to be in the presence of our Pope - Il Papa.  It came to us much like the beauty of this whole trip, on a complete whim. I emailed a former local priest who is now a Bishop and asked if there was anything he could do to make our time at the Vatican "more special."  I received a call and then a confirmation email with the wonderful gift of our audience.  So... just what does "an audience with he Pope" mean?  Well it turns out it means you get a ticket (which I'm not 100% sure is necessary) to be among the tens of thousands of people who are drawn to The Holy See to hear the word of God and a reflection delivered by His Holiness and then receive the Papal Blessing.  As the beautiful nun at the US Office for the Bishops in Rome stated when we picked up our tickets, "it's like a big Papal pep rally." 

So, we were told in order to get a seat, be there by  by 7:30 a.m.  Of course, I woke at 6 am, flung open our windows and peeked down to St. Peters square and saw that people were already lining up! Groups with banners, flags and matching hats were gathering amid the 4 very loosely defined entrance points.  We rushed to ready ourselves and made it to the square a few minutes before 7 am.   The Charlie Brumaster in me made friends with our fellow line-goers. The Indonesian man next to me, after a brief exchange of 'where are you froms' asked me "So, what are we in line waiting for?"  He had no idea he was in line to see the big guy.  When he came to this realization, he rushed off to a vendor to buy a rosary to be blessed. He had no 'ticket' and I never saw him again, so I have no idea if he made it in.   

It turns out, how close you get to the physical presence of the Pope really depends on 2 things, how early you arrived at St Peters square and how pushy you are.  Italians (God love them) really have no sense of personal space or of how to perform the "get in line" function. It as though they decided collectively as a country, not to teach this to their children.  So, it was a case of may the best pusher win. And, luckily for us, my Charlie Brumaster socialism aquatinted us with a nice family from Tampa, Florida in "line" with us. The husband/father  worked in the "governmental defense" business and stood at about 6 foot 5 inches tall. Needless to say he was a big guy and we pushed through that crowd with the best of them and made it very close, only about 30 rows away from the front.  

As we waited for over 2 hours in our seats, the crowd filled in behind us. A sea of over 80,000 people all waiting their chance for their own Papal Audience.  And then suddenly, with no fanfare, no blare of trumpets, not even a stadium announcer with the voice of "Are you ready to rumble??" out came Il Papa, Pope Francis. Riding in his pope-mobile, wearing the biggest smile, waving, clasping hands, and kissing babies. He rode through the crowd for a half hour before he made it up to his altar. We caught a very close glimpse as he road by and you could feel the electricity of the crowd. It was a beautiful gift to be in His presence. He oozes humility and you just know he was definitely chosen, not by man, but by God.

I held my mother's rosary for a special blessing for her in particular. And when the Papal pep really was done, I smiled, took a deep breath, kissed my amazing husband and said, "Now that's what I call an audience."

 

Ahhh Rome

We made it. As far as plane rides and customs goes - our trip over couldn't have gone much smoother. We traveled Aer Lingus (I know - it sounds naughty, but it's not). The stewardesses were comprised of primarily fair haired girls with perfectly quaffed buns in their hair. We had great seats - the second row of coach, which appears also to be a great seating area for families with young babies. We were surrounded by little ones who didn't quite want to sleep - or eat - or do anything except make their mothers hold and rock them or walk the aisles with them. My heart went out to them, as I recall our last flight with Ellie to Arizona where she cried the entire flight and finally passed out just as the tires hit the runway.  (with strangers sitting on both sides of me). I know what it's like to try to keep a baby happy in the air. 

We sailed through Dublin and were thankfully seated on our second plane a good distance away from the all-girls school that was taking a trip over to Italy. The amount of young estrogen in the air was more than enough to make-up a Justin Bieber fan club. After a quick 2 hour and 40 minute flight to Rome, we hopped off the plane, were one of the first through passport check and to grab our bags and then just walked straight through the customs area with "nothing to declare"... It was so easy we thought we might have done it wrong. But who cares... we're here. 

We checked into our digs for the next few nights - Hotel Columbus. I have to admit I was a bit nervous about it. The reviews on Trip Advisor were at the very least inconsistent. One said it was a great experience and the next said they wished they could give the hotel zero stars. But - I guess it's all about your expectations. This hotel used to be a Monastery. It has old world charm oozing from each nook and cranny. It's somewhat rustic with brick floors and old iron chandellieres. But - it's more than comfortable. The bed (although not the Heavenly Bed of the Westin) sleeps great, the water pressure was good and most importantly - it's just steps away from St. Peters. 

    

So---- we checked in and hit the Roman road. (mostly because we knew we didn't dare sit down or heaven-forbid lie down on the bed because we'd suredly crash if we did). We took our leisurely walk down to St. Peters. Awe---some....  Wow - what an amazing sight. We got in line and made it in to the beautiful basicllica. It's an amazing place. After touring around the inside and stopping to make a devotion in the chapel, we headed to the cupola. I don't think Chris really had an appreciation for where we were headed.  We had a brief discussion about walking or taking the elevator. I looked at him and said - "Honey, we have to walk  - becasue I cannot face my Dad and tell him that I took the elevator at St. Peters."   And so it was decided. We wound and wound in circles as we walked to the top. When we got to the inside of the dome, we stopped for a great deal of time in amazement. It's hard to take it all in. The enormity of it, the beauty of it and the indescribable amount of time and work it must have taken to make it so beautiful. Each of the images on the wall comprised of thousands, or millions, of colored pieces of stone carefully placed to make the images of our faith. 

    

 

After looking around the dome and taking a zillion photos - I asked Chris if he was ready to continue-- "Where?" he said.  "Up - to the top."   And so we went - up up up. Small little stairwells and rounded ceilings that felt as if they were closing in on us led us to one of the most glorious views of our lives. (and it's a good thing since Chris is both scared of heights and closterphobic, I promised him it would be worth the effort).  

  

The rest of the day consistented of a lot of walking, a failed attempt to get into the Vatican Museum / Sistine Chapel and then the perfect dinner at a little restaurant down the way. Chris and I both fell asleep easily (I moreso than he). I woke at 1 am and was wide awake. So... I took two Advil PMs and said the Rosary until I fell back to sleep. We both woke in the morning assuming it was 7 or 8 a.m. only to find we had both slept until 10 a.m.!!! Eeeek! We had let half the day pass by. So we quickly got dressed and went to a "bar" around the corner for an amazingly wonderful cappucino and pastry  (standing, of course to avoid the extra charge to sit). And we were ready to set out on our whirlwind tour of Rome. The Colosseum, The Forum, The Trevi Fountain, The Pantheon, The Monument to Victor Emmanuel II and much more. We stopped at the US Bishop's Visitors office to pick up our tickets for the Papal Audience tomorrow. We plan to get there early, really early because the nice nun told us that Pope Francis has been attracting huge crowds and the last several have had around 80,000 in attendance. So we are very excited to be among the many (and not the few). 

What an amazing time we are having. I keep pinching myself - are we really here?

And We're Off

I can't believe the moment has finally arrived. This day has been nearly 20 years in the making. In 1993 I was heading to the O'Hare airport with my Mom and Dad. We had a great "last supper" together and then they loaded me on a plane to spend 2 semesters of my college life in Florence, Italy. I was a puddle of emotions. So excited and yet heart sick to be leaving them and nervious about what I would find in this new land. I boarded the plane all alone and sat adjacent to a honeymoon couple who were headed to a European adventure. I remember being so envious of them. Their love and excitement and pure bliss of being together. And from there, I spent the next 9 months of my life exploring Europe and coming to the distinct realization that the biggest thing I found "across the pond" was myself. 

Fast forward 20 years and I'm once again headed to O'Hare. And once again I am a puddle of emotions. I kissed the cheeks of my parents and this time prayed more for their love and care  while I was gone rather than my own. I tucked away mom's Rosary in my bag in hopes of a special blessing from the Pope.  I waved goodbye to the amazing family God has granted me; my two amazing and ruggedly handsome boys, and my precious angel princess.  And I'm ready to board the plane and embark upon my own European adventure with the love of my life, enjoying our own pure bliss of being together. We are still at the point of being unsure how we will endure 2 weeks away from our family but at the same time we are feeling incredibly blessed to have this opportunity to go and explore the world together.  

We;ve taken the advice of my mom and dad. Don't wait to retire to travel and enjoy life together. They are living proof that you never know what the next stage of life will bring. Do it now - while you can.  So - we did and we are... Bags are packed, provisions are purchased, children are well cared for and we're off...