Play in Firenze

As promised in an earlier Bieremadova post, here is one about play. Truly, I try to make play a part of everyday life since work tends to dominate. I play by getting exercise, goofing with my dogs (not in Italy, boo hoo!) unwinding with Mark over dinner, watching a movie, enjoying the sunset, reading, drinking a nice wine, or anything that brings you joy.

Speaking of things that bring me joy: Lake Michigan! Especially when I can enjoy the beach with Mark and the BGs (Barley and Gunnar), who are beach and ball crazy!

Here is a sunset over Lake Michigan. It doesn't get any better.

So, play in Italy…Yes! The 2 big playdates since I arrived were: 1) a trip with Mark to Florence and Siena during his spring break trip here, and 2) A ciaspolata (excursion) to racchette da neve (snowshoe) at Lago (Lake) Santo on the Tracce del Lupo (Trail of the Wolf). I’ll let my Italian friends chime in if the Italian is incorrect!

Firenze, circa 2018

So, let’s start with Florence—Firenze for this post. I first visited Florence in 1985. I had just finished a study abroad program in London and ventured off to tour Europe with a friend from the program. Both of us were armed with a backpack, Eurail Pass, and a copy of Let’s Go Europe! Deanna and I traveled to Belgium, Germany, and Switzerland with our Traveler’s Checks in hand, tried everything recommended by “Let’s Go!,” and made the obligatory call home from a post office with spare change when time and money allowed. We survived without cell phones or high-tech navigation! Today I marvel that such feats were even possible and wonder if the current generation would even be able to read a map if pressed. Despite our lack of technology or money, we had a blast! We lived to return to the US and Deanna helped me get a job and I attended her wedding, but sadly we lost touch over the years.

Back to 1985…Deanna had plans to go to Austria to visit friends or family and I decided to go to Italy—by myself. The lure of Italy began long ago and draws me back again and again. I wanted to go badly enough that I decided to brave it solo, not knowing the language (still working on that!). The 1985 itinerary included Venice and Florence before heading to the Netherlands to visit the Bierema family. Looking back, it was pretty gutsy for a Midwestern kid who had never traveled to Europe before to jump on a train and check out Italy, alone. Overall, it was a great experience, even though I was a poor college student, the accommodations had NO stars, and I took chances I wouldn’t today. It was also HOT and in those days, AC was not in the budget for the pensions I could afford.

Firenze: Looks similar as it did in 1985!

At the time—1985—neither Florence nor Venice were overrun with tourists and I remember waiting in a relatively short line to see Michelangelo’s David in Florence, without a reservation—truly relics of the past. As a reference point, I visited Florence last year while my host, Monica, attended a meeting at the University of Florence. It was a Tuesday in early May and I wandered the city for about 3 hours assuming it would be a quiet stroll through an historic Italian town. Nope. The day was crowded and hot. My introverted soul was tortured as the city was elbow-to-elbow with tourists. I hadn’t heard that many U.S. accents since arriving in Italy that spring and wasn’t particularly thrilled to hear them over and over again. I got so frustrated after an hour or so (after walking past the Duomo with lines stretching around it to get inside, down to the river and across Ponte Vecchio), that I walked all the way back across town to the botanical gardens into the university and residential area just for some peace. I wandered for a long time to find a restaurant that was quiet. I got as close to the University of Florence as I could and sat down. The server seemed to sense my predicament and the wine came quickly. Of course, the multigenerational, loud-talking family from Wisconsin at the next table made me question my choice of lunch venue, but the food was marvelous and the server felt my pain. Upon recapping my day to my host, she informed me that I wound up where the faculty typically dine, so I marked that down as a success at picking restaurants when hot-and-bothered in Florence.

My expectation when Mark and I traveled there in March this year was that it would be calmer, quieter, and less crowded. Boy, was I wrong! Of course, we arrived on a Saturday and weekends are busy there (as are most days of the week). It was crowded and raining. Not quite pleasant.

Mark, being an expert trip planner had made advance reservations for the museums. No amount of planning could have accounted for the rain, although fortunately we ascribe to the adage that “there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad gear.” We had the right clothing to walk for hours in the rain, but let’s face it, it isn’t exactly fun. We couldn’t get tickets for Duomo that weekend, although were able to reserve a spot for Monday morning, before heading to Siena.

Laura on the crowded streets of Firenze, Ponte Vecchio

Our first stop after getting off the train was a walk through the sights and across the Ponte Vecchio to stretch our legs and get lunch and then on to the Uffizi Gallery to see the massive and amazing collection of Renaissance Art.

I should mention that we were very happy and comfortable with our hotel in Florence, The Firenze Number 9 Urban Wellness Hotel. The rest of the day was making some time for an aperitif and enjoying dinner before giving our tired legs a rest.

Museums to see, but first, lunch!

The Birth of Venus, Uffizi Gallery

The drizzly view from the Hotel Baglioni dining room.

The next day we enjoyed a morning stroll about town and lunch at the top of the Hotel Baglioni, per a recommendation from our friend Brian Winters, overlooking the Duomo. It was an impressive view, in spite of the persistent drizzle.

That afternoon, we toured The Accademia Gallery that most famously houses Michelangelo’s David—still fantastic after all these years.

Michelangelo's Masterpiece, David.

Selfie with David, why not?

The final day in Florence, a Monday, brought slightly less rain and lighter crowds. We climbed the 486 steps of the Duomo (nothing like an impromptu stress test!) and when we reached the top, the sun came out for a short spell—we must be living our lives right! Mark got some amazing photos, although the sheer height gave me butterflies.