Bellemissima Florence

1/27/07

The train ride from Nice to Milano must be one of the most beautiful journeys in Europe. For the first three hours, the train hugs the Mediterranean coast, then it moves northwest, through the mountains. I could do nothing but look out the window. The morning was filled with views of sparkling blue water and the afternoon with snowy mountains.

But, it was another long ride. When I chose my destinations, I guess I had US traveling in mind, because the distances between destinations didn’t look too daunting. But travel by train is slower, I guess. Most of the ride to Milan I had a train compartment of six seats to myself, so I could spread out, which was nice.

The train from Milan to Florence was much different; kind of like a commuter flight at the end of a work day. People on their computers, and the cell phones—the Italians cannot be separated from their cell phones for one instant. Everywhere the cells are ringing with voices answering “Pronto.” I fell a little in love with the man sitting across from me. He was beautiful, with Mediterranean skin and soulful eyes. Every time he talked on the phone, he talked with hushed tones that I can only describe as a “caressing.” Oh, and the clothes. He was wearing an impeccable Italian cut suit and a beautiful yellow silk tie. I can only guess that he smelled good, too.

I got here about 7PM, but it was dark and cold. My memory of Florence in the summer is that the Italians eat and play until late in the evening, but I guess during the winter they stay in and keep warm, because the city was deserted by 9PM. It was very strange walking by the famous sites (The Palazzo Vecchio, the Duomo) and having so few people around; the buildings rising majestically in the darkness.


















My hotel is beautiful. It was created from a series of townhouses, and has much of its original furniture, frescos, and parquet floors. My room has 14 foot ceilings and a HUGE (maybe king sized) bed. There is a whiff of some kind of delicious smell in the room as well; I can’t place it, nor can I tell where it’s coming from. It’s sweet, but not overpowering or too flowery. Kind of a powdery mixture of sandalwood and orange. This is the breakfast room, where I am writing right now:


You can barely see it, but outside the windows there is a patio and a garden. The sun is coming up and it just came over the surrounding buildings and peeked into the room.

When I travel, I always try to arrange the first full day as an “exploring” day. So I’ll be out on the streets walking around most of today. Tomorrow I have a ticket to the famous Uffizi art museum. And the next two days? Some more museums, probably. Maybe I’ll sit in a café on the Piazza San Marco and drink espresso.