Archive for ‘Holiday’

With Mel feeling much better we hitched a lift to the Certaldo station with Dad. Within an hour we were in Florence and in search of the red double-decker tour bus we had heard about. Before long we were on the bus and equipped with little red headphones. We plugged in and brushed up on our history.

Our first stop was The Duomo Group, consisting of Brunelleshi’s noble dome, Giotto’s slender belltower, Ghiberti’s robust gates and Michelangelo’s tortured Pieta and two panoramic terraces, all wrapped in red, white and green marble and surrounded by beggars and hawkers.

The next stop was San Marco and the Accademia where Michelangelo’s David lives. Funny thing is that there was no clear indication where the Accademia was. None whatsoever. We soon bumped into some more people looking for it and formed a small search party. Finally we all ended up down a small side street with what looked like a queue for a nightclub in a wherehouse. We joined the queue and our new found search party friends realised we were in the queue for tour groups. So we left the queue and walked to the queue on the opposite side of the entrance. And we kept walking. Finally we went around the corner and joined the end of the queue. Word made it to the end of the queue that the people at the front had been waiting the better part of an hour.

While in line we found out from our new friends how not to see Italy. They had arrived in Rome the day before, with a sick baby, without any idea of Rome traffic, without any accommodation and only a day to see everything! Then this morning they came to Florence and this afternoon they are off to Venice. It wasn’t a total surprise when they gave up and left the queue. But we persisted and in an hour we were inside. We wandered through several rooms filled with nondescript 15 century paintings. Finally we entered a corridor where at the other end stood David.

I must admit, it was an impressive sight. Bathed in sunlight and surrounded by people silently staring upwards. Someone else must have found this to be a curious sight too, as the walls of the corridor were covered with panoramic photographs of previous visitors all standing and admiring Michelangelo’s work. These obviously weren’t the only photographs that were taken as many people secretly (and not-so-secretly) took photographs. Risking having our cameras “bagged” Mel and I snuck a couple of photos.

Next we were off to the Uffizi, a large “U” shaped building adjacent to a large square bordered by statues. One of the statues was a replica of David which stands where the original once stood facing Rome. Beyond the statue stands the queue for the Uffizi. We joined the end of the massive queue with a couple of Americans. Straight away we were approached by a tour guide we had seen a couple of times earlier in the day. She claimed she had booked 4 tickets to the Uffizi that were no longer needed. We had been approached plenty of times over the last couple of weeks so I was a little skeptical. Once she reminded us of the hour and half queue ahead of us we all jumped at the opportunity. So we jumped out of the line and over to the reservations window. The four of us claimed we were the “Jacobs”, presented the reservation code we were given and walked straight in past the queue. “Thank you Mr and Mrs Jacobs” said one of the Americans. Here, here. We’d just saved an hour and a half!

Originally the uffizi (“offices”) of the ruling Medici family, the building is now home to some 1,700 works by Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Giotto, Caravaggio, Titian, etc, etc. The building also has some awesome views of the River Arno and the famous Ponte Vecchio (“The Golden Bridge”).

By the time we were back on the bus it was late in the day and we still had one more destination on our checklist, the Pitti Palace. Mel and I agreed that although it was indeed a pitty we weren’t going to get there, we had seen a lot and it was time we got a train back to Certaldo.

We finally got back to the Villa for our final meal with the family. We enjoyed an Aussie bbq Italian style (or is it an Italian bbq Aussie style?). Tomorrow my parents are off to Venice and we are off to Rome.

With Mel still feeling sick and gloomy skies outside, we decided to ditch our trip to Florence. We dropped my sister’s friend at the station and wandered into the now familiar coop (the local supermarket). While the coop has a decent range for such a small town, it presents a number of challenges. Firstly there is the language barrier (we seemed to be the only people who spoke English). Then there is the problem of finding what you’re looking for. There’s the weird scanner system, member’s only isles, 8 items or less isles, bagging and weighing your own fruit and vegetables, etc, etc. Of course we had no idea of how any of this stuff worked. The staff who spoke no English (or didn’t want to) had little or no patience for us, and even seemed to act as if we shouldn’t have been there. Needless to say, trips to the Coop became a necessary evil throughout the week in Tuscany.

My sister and I returned from the Coop with some more food and beer. By now my parents had left for their day trip to Siena and Mel was still resting in bed. Without any decent weather to go out by the pool, my sister and I faced a quiet, uneventful day at the villa. In the end we returned to the Coop and bought a DVD to watch!

Awaking from another long night of mozzie tennis, we effectively wasted another morning before a last minute decision saw all six of us again in convoy to a tourist attraction. This time the destination was Pisa and like all last minute decisions it was poorly planned. We managed to make our way to Pisa without any problems. However we had no idea where in Pisa the “Grassy field of Miracles” is. In our desperate hesitation we pulled off at the first sign for Pisa. Before long we found ourselves guessing and I promptly pulled over and stopped. The Megane with rest of the family followed suit and almost immediately both bonnets were covered in maps. After 5 minutes of intense pointing and gesturing we were all in complete disagreement. Dad seemed certain he knew which way we should go but he didn’t want to lead. So we headed of in the other direction and soon became lost again. I gave up and pulled over again. Mel got out and asked some people sitting on a nearby park bench. Luckily they spoke English and even more luckily they told us to leave the cars where they were and walk half a kilometer down the road to the “Grassy field of Miracles”.

Upon entering the gate we were immediately surrounded by black guys selling watches and sunglasses (at least it was a change from the Louis Vuiton bags in Venice). Like Venice there was that same “oh my God, it’s the Leaning Tower of Pisa” reaction. Although unlike Venice it soon wore off. The neighboring Dom was almost as interesting as the tower itself. Surprisingly we were allowed to take photos inside. Speaking of which we’ve taken about 700 so far this trip!

You’d think we’d have a fairly clear run back to the villa, but we got just as lost as we did earlier. This time dad was in the lead. The third time he pulled over he was completely lost and oblivious to where he had pulled over. There were two dodgy guys with a van and a fruit stall, a very masculine “woman” in fishnets on a deckchair and two guys with knives in a Mercedes. A great time to look like clueless tourists!

Finally we were on our way back to the villa. By the time we got home everything was closed except a local pizza shop. We were all content except for Mel. Looks like she scored a bad panini, so she was on the porcelain bus tour for the rest of the night.

Another “day off” beside the pool with the iPod in one hand and a Birra Moretti in the other. The temperature is in the 30′s, the sun is out, the birra is cold and the pool side view is to die for (see photo). What more could you ask for?

Having had a full day of doing nothing (except jumping into the pool every once in a while to cool down), we dragged ourselves out of the villa and convoyed it across to San Gimignano. We practically parked ourselves in a queue for a car park. After finally getting into the carpark we made our way into the walled city. At first I was wondering why we had gone there. There seemed little more than a few shops hidden amongst some old narrow streets and nobody around. After stopping for a brief bite to eat we proceeded into the heart of town. Now I understood what was going on. There was basically one long strip of shops running up the hill and down the other side – all carefully integrated with medieval buildings, churches and bell towers. Here were the crowds. Everyone was busy shopping for bags, wine, gourmet food, swords or taking photos. It was an interesting place and it had some awesome views. I didn’t realise until we got home that we missed a heap of indoor attractions, not to mention the Torture Museum which my sister describes as “pretty cool”.