(103-104): Florence

(103) is Monday, 19 April 2010.

Blogger seems to have confiscated my user-friendly blogging interface, which means I can't underline things and my fonts may come out looking funny. Don't quite know what the story is with this one, but my glass of Vanilla Coke and I are working on it.

So, Dan and I found ourselves awake and refreshed in Florence. First stop is the Piazzale Michelangelo, home of a fake version of the famous David statue (Dan tells me there are several about) and a show-stopping panoramic view of Florence. It's free, it's good exercise, and we had perfect weather. My suggestion as you climb to the top, though-- and I know this is difficult-- but do try to give it the Orpheus treatment. That is, don't look behind you from the steps. Wait until the lookout point. The sudden reveal is worth your patience.*

Dan and I were really hungry by this point, so we succumbed to lunch at the (relatively) pricey patio near the lookout point. One of many great things about Italian food: since all of it is SO GOOD, even the slightly overpriced stuff is worth it. I had a tasty pizza and Dan's lasagna turned out to be the best lasagna of our trip. The patio, view, and breeze were also a lovely combination.

We rather wandered back to the city... you know how they say "Not all who wander are lost"? Well, thank goodness for its corollary: "Not all who wander but are lost necessarily mind." It was a beautiful day, as I've said, and we found a nice tree-lined street and even a secluded playground that was neat to walk through. After crossing the Ponte Vecchio ("Old Bridge," full of merchants and stuff) back to town, we found the famed Duomo (yes, like Milan has a famed Duomo... I think they're a chain or something) among other cool old churches.

We then moved hostels to the originally planned Archi Rossi, which I highly recommend to hostel-goers. Fine location near the train station and great resources (best included hostel breakfast I've yet had) for a decent price. After a little siesta, we had gelato. Gelato may be the best ice cream in the world, but the cones are edible cardboard. I don't like this, but I think the idea is so that the cone doesn't distort or otherwise detract from the taste.

My high school friend Christina couldn't meet up with us for dinner, but she gave us a great tip, which I will now relay to you. Muna Ciello is on Via Maffia 31 (see here). Fun, funky place with, of course, great food.** After dinner, Christina and her friend Lauren joined us for hot chocolate at La Cite (mapped here). It's a neat bookshop/cafe/jazz hangout where a few of Christina's and Lauren's friends in their music program were playing that night. But the hot chocolate-- it's a must. They have a few flavors, and they froth it up all rich and thick. I picked white chocolate (my new favorite flavor this semester, likely for its sideways resemblance to vanilla). Delicious, just like the rest of that day.

(104) is Tuesday, 20 April 2010.

This is it, folks-- museum day. National museums are closed on Mondays, and trains taking Andy and Dan to Rome run on Wednesdays, so we had to cram it all in today. We got up early to head over to the Uffizi and beat the rush.

Yeah. THAT worked...

We spent two and a half hours in line, which turned out to be almost double the amount of time we spent actually inside the museum. And I hate to say this, given that time commitment, but I really didn't like the Uffizi that much.

Now, before you, my art-loving friends, forever abandon this blog and my company, I'd like to make my case. The Uffizi museum is famous for its collection of old art, which is my least favorite kind. You've got rooms and rooms and rooms full of old crucifixions depicted in old gold paint on old wood. I find that there are two (connected) problems with this.

1.) Anything can be old. I can paint my (now empty) glass of Vanilla coke and wait 650 years, but that doesn't mean I painted it well in the first place. That doesn't require any unique talent or vision-- that requires endurance, which, as WALL-E teaches us, any given object can have.
2.) Not only does being an old piece of art require no unique artistic vision, these particular old pieces weren't supposed to have any. This is a matter of personal taste, I understand, but if I'm going to spend my morning looking at crucifixions, send me back to the Prado, where each painting of the same thing had a unique perspective: a unique reason to be painted. The way I see it, the artists of the Uffizi's paintings didn't understand that you don't do a remake unless you've got something new to add to the original story.

To be fair (and to stop ranting), however, I suppose you can't go to Florence and not see this museum (unless you take my ranting to heart). And it was great to see Boticelli's 'The Birth of Venus'. Also-- big bonus-- our sojourn in Italy landed squarely in the middle of Culture Week, when all of Italy's state-run museums are free. If you're planning to visit Italy around mid-late April (you should), try to land it during this annual 10-day stretch.

Next stop was a private gallery with a surrealism exhibit focusing mainly on De Chirico, a founding painter of the movement. Dan and I spent a little while looking at De Chirico and Friends (the show included a few Magritte paintings as well). It was a cool exhibit, because some of the plaques accompanying the paintings addressed the movement's larger philosophical issues with sort of "Think about it yourself!" questions.***

Our final museum stop was the Galleria dell'Accademia. The big draw here, of course, is Michelangelo's David (the real David****). It's a great statue-- to be sure-- but what I like almost as much is how they don't open with it. Maybe I'm ruining the effect by mentioning it (and maybe the film major finds this more impressive than it actually is), but the reveal of this statue and where it's situated in the museum is at least as good as the masterpiece itself.

Also, the Galleria dell'Accademia has a lot of Uffizi-style Old Art. If you're hitting museums in Florence but don't want to wait on line for the Uffizi, this museum is a good pick because you'll see a smaller (but sufficient) sample of the same stuff. Or, you could book your Uffizi ticket in advance, which Dan and I didn't do.

We found a pizzeria on the east end of the city that seemed to be favored by locals. Cheap and tasty. We then savored dessert at Gelateria La Carraia, Christina's excellent pick of a Gelato place, easily found here.

I want to close this entry by reminding you that my challenge for major Bonus Points is still open, since my parents still have yet to correctly pronounce the French sentence "C'est une nouvelle année." Skype me, say it right, and WIN!

-Andy

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Tonight I gotta' cut notes! Footnotes!

* For those of you who still don't get the reference, go look up Orpheus and Eurydice in your copy of 'D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths.' Google it if you want to, but you should also invest in the book. Seriously-- your kids will love it.

** Also, how can you not love a place-- in Italy-- whose street is Via Maffia?? It's just too perfect. And if it's not perfect enough, can we also reflect also on how that street name sounds like you could translate it as "Thug Life"?

*** One went something like, "Surrealism often finds its inspiration in dreams, even nightmares. Freud said a nightmare was this, this, and this... do you have nightmares? Do they look like the style of this painting?"

*** No, the dog Paul Anka. 50 Bonus Points if you got that one.

(100-102): The Wages of Cinders

(100) is Friday, 16 April 2010

After an omitted week of scrambling on two papers (including Hitchcock), we finally arrive at spring break. 17 days. Travel plans that had been in the works for a month. Italy! Venice, Florence, and Rome! Greece! Mykonos, Santorini, Ios (all islands in the Cyclades), and Athens!

Iceland. A volcano.

Hard to know what to say to that, right? I was at rather a loss for words myself (that takes a lot, a fact this blog often proves conclusively). I have to say, though, I had a hard time being too upset about this because, as travel screw-ups go, a volcano is a pretty epic reason.

Dan and I lugged our bags to the airport for our 6 PM flight; even if it was cancelled, we figured that was our best shot at seeing what the story was. Long story short, there was no flight that would give us any appreciable amount of time in Venice before our scheduled train would take us to Florence.

"Trains! Wait a second..."

In one of the most bizarre spots of luck, there is a train station at Charles de Gaulle. I say bizarre because-- think about it-- when would that ever matter? When would you get off the metro at the airport with your bags and your e-ticket and your passport and say "You know what, Dan? I think I'd rather have train lag tomorrow morning." Probably not that often, considering I don't think I know anyone else who's traveled recently with a Dan. But this was great; we saved time not going back to a station in Paris proper, and. If we had done that, we might have missed out on the patchwork of trains a very nice woman helped us book:

6:10 PM the next evening to Geneva (getting in around 10 PM)

5:45 AM train to Milan (Sunday, getting in around 10 AM)

Flexible time train Florence: skipping Venice, but getting us to Florence a day sooner

So, I went home to pick up the pieces from these changes and fill in the gaps. A few new reservations later, I decided we were in good shape. And since I had the evening and most of the next day free, I headed over to Kirill's most recent apartment (he's gone through about 10 different Parisian residences by this point in the semester) to join our other pals and watch Woody Allen's Sleeper for the first delightful time in years.

So, we re-booked our vacation to get us to Florence a day sooner. Your move, Volcano.

(101) is Saturday, 17 April 2010

Dan and I took the TGV to Geneva, which was very nice. Got us there in short order, and we learned en route that our VWPP pal Victoria would be in Geneva that night as well! Wonderful! She was waiting for us when we got off the train.

The plan, at this point, was to give Geneva what Dan and I call the Madrid Treatment. Fondly named after our last night in Madrid back in March, we would leave our bags someplace safe (a train station locker) and just explore the city. We wouldn't have the chance otherwise, and it didn't make much sense to us to book a pricey hotel for just a few hours.

Geneva is an expensive city. Switzerland's economy is good enough to justify staying on the Swiss Franc (better US exchange rate than the Euro, but not by much). I had to take out a minimum of 50 swiss francs from the ATM. A bag of malted milk balls (required to break that 50) cost me 6 swiss Francs. The train station locker cost us 8. And answering two guys who asked for the time cost me my wallet containing 44 Swiss Francs, about 180 Euros, 4 credit cards, and two or three pieces of ID.

You do get a rebate, actually, on everything but the cash (and your never-useful Reid Hall ID card) if you chase the guys and shout "Voleur! Voleur! Rendez-moi ma portefeuille!"**

Dropping the wry bit for a second, I do want to assure you that these guys only got the cash (and not even all of it: those under-the-shirt tourist wallets are a good investment). My IDs, credit cards-- even the wallet itself-- made it back to me and I was completely physically unharmed. Shaken for a while, but unharmed.

Well played, Volcano. Well played.

After taking a breather over dinner, we decided to seek a hotel after all. We found one near Cornavin (Geneva's big train station) called the Hotel des Alpes-- which you can book here. If you are EVER in Geneva, stay at this hotel for my sake and that of David, the very generous soul working the desk that night. The place was full, but when we explained what happened, David let us use the hotel's Wi-Fi so I could Skype-call my folks. That didn't work, so he let me call them on the hotel's phone. He then called several local hotels for us (all full). Finally, he offered us the lobby couches, water, and something to eat if we wanted (we didn't, but thanked him anyway) until we had to leave to catch our train.

All at no charge.

David also explained that the way I was pick-pocketed was rather common in those parts. I'm sorry to dwell on this subject, but this is good knowledge to have. After asking for the time, the pickpocket made some jovial comment about us being American and "football!" And then he starts in on what David called the jeu de jambes ("leg game"... my translation is less catchy and more suggestive... it figures). This is where the pickpocket starts stepping on my feet and getting up in my personal space. Naturally, I try to jump out of the way, but he keeps on me. My jumping around makes my wallet easier to spot and grab because, one, I'm distracted, and two, rather than keeping hands on my money, I'm using my arms to move away and maintain balance. Once they've got the wallet, they run.

Notes I took from this:

1.) Maybe this is cold, but when you're tired and in transit, let them ask somebody else for the time.***

2.) When someone goes for your feet, go for your pockets.

3.) When arriving at night, always have somewhere safe to go (hostel, hotel, whatever) as soon as you get off the train.

3b.) Giving a city the Madrid Treatment works better when you've already gotten to know it and you aren't tired/disoriented.

At 5:45, after leaving the hotel with gratuitous thanks to David, we found the train station. Victoria continued her journey elsewhere in Europe, and Dan and I boarded (and slept on) our train to Milan.

(102) starts when Dan and I arrive in Milan on Sunday, 18 April 2010

I like Milan. But I think the three hours we spent there was enough. The only thing that might have justified more time would have been seeing 'The Last Supper', but we didn't have the necessary advance reservation to the museum. Instead, we dropped our bags just long enough to wander, see the Duomo, and get lunch and the first of very much gelato. The Duomo is the highlight there-- easily the most ornate (and therefore impressive) Gothic building I have ever seen (and my exposure has skyrocketed since January). My camera died for this part, which was really, really sad.

After walking around a bit, we hopped the train to Florence, where we found pitch-perfect clear weather in the 70s (Fahrenheit). Dan and I took an inexplicably long time finding the hostel I'd finagled for the night, but we then relaxed for a while in the room, relieved that our 24 hours in transit were over. I got a call from Kirill, who reported that his and Liz's volcano troubles were only just beginning (I'd tell you that story, but I could never do it the justice that she or Kirill do). The next few days would feature many such calls and many more hours wondering when the next one would sound. Dan and I then went over to Gusto Leo, a very affordable place near our hostel. Decent food, a friendly atmosphere, and a 20% discount to anyone with a student ID card.

Tomorrow's entry: Vacation, Take 2.

-Andy

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Footnotes

* Gare de Lyon, Gare du Nord (North), Gare de l'Est (East), Gare Montparnasse, Gare Bercy, Gare d'Austerlitz, and Gare St-Lazare. Any guesses on what the word gare means in English?

** "Thief! Thief! Give me back my wallet!" And, in case you ever need a such a rebate in a French-speaking country, here's the French version spelled phonetically: "vo-LUR! vo-LUR! RON-day moi mah POR-tuh-foy!"

*** You know, maybe that should have been my first clue... These two are in Switzerland-- the land of Swiss watches-- and they don't know what time it is?