Like wow wipeout! (Florence)

I told you it said "no parking"

After wandering the streets of Florence in search of the perfect breakfast, today we found it, directly across the street. I know dear reader, who would have thought. An excellent breakfast: great coffee and fresh pastries in the Mercato Centrale, two minutes walk from our door. We shall certainly be breakfasting there again. The coffee was great and the pastries, yum, less than 3€ for a chocolate scroll and an apple tartine style thingy.

It wasn't as if we didn't know you could get food there. It was described to us as an "upmarket fast food place". A tad harsh we think. It is in fact the upstairs version of the downstairs fresh food market. Basically what you can buy downstairs you can have cooked upstairs. They have cheeses, wine, pastries, breads, pizzas, pasta, fruit, charcuterie, gelato ... I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.

After breakfast we walked down to the Uffizi Gallery. The walk was easy and the crowds were reasonably small with the exception of the Cathedral. Now the Cathedral doesn't officially open until 10am and there was quite a crowd there at 8:30 when we walked past. That is a long time to stand in a queue. Not my problem. We had our pre-purchased tickets for the gallery, so we joined the short line for the security check and were in. Sort of. We were in the first entry room. We then needed to queue to have our tickets scanned. This brought about our first encounter with a mindless tour group, or locusts as I refer to them. They ignore everyone else and sweep all before them. Do not stand in their path or you will be swept along in their fast-paced, whistle-stop tour of whatever major exhibits the guide thinks worthy of their short attention span. You can insert you own national prejudice here but I know who I am talking about.

Before I get too deeply into today's Italian experience, I wish to draw to your attention an expression we saw many times today dear reader. It was this: "a Roman copy of the Greek original". (That's just for you Dean. You were right, but at least they acknowledge it. The Etruscans don't get so much as a nod).

Warning: the following paragraph contains scenes that may offend some readers. So, the Uffizi Gallery. It was deceptively large - only three floors high compared to the nine storeys of the Louvre. We spent over four hours there and that was without an audio-guide. Had we plugged ourselves in, we could have been there all day, although I'm  not sure my patience would have lasted the distance. Aside from the audio-guide, the only thing I really missed today was a short bladed knife to stab those ignorant morons who kept stepping in front of me to get a better perspective on some work of art. Or a sword to decapitate those mindless fuckwits whose existence is only validated by taking endless selfies in front of art pieces they won't be able to name tomorrow and don't understand anyway. Or a semi-automatic rifle to take down tour groups that refuse to move and insist on standing in front of the most significant piece in the gallery, obliterating the view for everyone else and causing blockages in areas that should be free-flowing. Or a poison dart to immobilise the tour guide so the group is unable to move on from a point where there is absolutely nothing to see. Ok. I feel better now, my gentle reader; as you may have gleaned, there were some stressful parts to the day.

Another great reflective photo of the Vasari Corridor

The early rooms were rather underwhelming, unless you are an architect. They were populated with sketches of some of the famous buildings of Florence as well as the floor plans for St Peter's Basilica in Rome. It is easy to forget the complexity that goes into designing a building, but it didn't maintain my interest for three rooms. Hence no photos.

Sections of the gallery itself make up part of the Vasari Corridor, a secret passage for the Medicis to move from one part of Florence to another without having to dirty their feet on the ground shared by the common people. It became a storage area for the vast trove of art works collected by the family through the years. Impressive? A bit. Oh, well, a big bit. It was absolutely amazing actually. Even reading the information plates next to some of the most incredible artworks by Caravaggio or Giotto or any of the Renaissance painters and it says things like, "discovered in a storeroom in 1924". Like wow - hence today's title, courtesy of The Hoodoo Gurus, 1985.

It was truly an extraordinary experience. Room after room, gallery after gallery. Every time you thought the tour was about to end another set of rooms opened up. The frescoes, the paintings, the statues; if it wasn't for the aforementioned tour groups, I could have stayed there all day. Tantalisingly, we kept seeing signs that pointed us in the direction of the Leonardo rooms but they never appeared and then, suddenly, we were spat out into a cafeteria and outdoor eating area. What had happened to Leonardo? How had we managed to miss him?

Botticelli's Venus

My arty shot of the day

We actually retraced our steps to check we had not inadvertently gone past the mythical rooms in our haste to escape another infuriating tour group but there was nothing. We paused to take some outdoor shots of the city scape and then headed towards the exit signs to inexplicably find our selves, in fact, back on floor one and heading towards Leonardo after all. Very Italian to jump from ground to second floor so that then you are funnelled down onto floor one on the way out... And then, after all this heightened anticipation, there were two paintings by Leonardo da Vinci and some of his ink sketches. Disclaimer: I acknowledge the man was a genius, but as a painter he is, well, without. While the tour groups sardined their way into the gallery where his two paintings were displayed and then monopolised the space and the air, I didn't feel it was worth the effort. I felt the same way about Mona Lisa and I have seen that three times now. Compare that to the emotion brought forth by Michelangelo's David. Still, there is no small amount of resentment in Italy that La Giaconda is resident in Paris when she should be here with the works of the rest of Florence's finest sons.

Sight of the day: Hmmm, how to describe it. Think Boy George, but not as flamboyant. Black three quarter pants - pedal pushers. Almost flared. White, long sleeved shirt. Black hat that was more a piece of over-sized cloth, like a medieval helmet, but in corduroy or velvet. At first sight I was uncertain about gender (not that there's anything wrong with that), male. Sorry I couldn't get a picture but it was a sight to behold.

That was the endpoint of the tour. It finished on a low when I looked back at some of the other works on exhibit, but hey, that's just my opinion. You can disagree, but it's my blog, so I probably won't publish what you say anyway. Unless you agree with me of course. It was then the long and winding road through the numerous gift shops before we found ourselves outside in the Florentine summer heat. Time for birra.

Purchase of the day: Despite making a vow not to purchase souvenirs for the family, we came across one particular item today that proved far too alluring to pass up. So, David, our first born, you are getting the only souvenir from this trip. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

We decided that Mercato Centrale might be an interesting place for lunch. And so it proved to be, but not for us. It was crowded. This would have necessitated one of us minding a space at a table and then going in search of food and then reversing the situation. And it was noisy. Instead we decamped to the streets around where we are staying and found a delightful little restaurant that was away from the crowds. All that left us to do was to find a gelataria and a wine shop. No challenge. I do not need to eat until breakfast.

A nice shot from our window

Tomorrow promises to be a day of excitement because we are catching up with a friend. As you do. Lunch? Of course. Let's meet in Florence.

I miss my bike.

fino a domini