Europe adventure. Day 16, 17 & 18 of 34.
Written in the common room at the Tasso Hostel in Florence on day 19.
When Davide went to work that morning I went to a little cafe in front of the Palazzo Pitti and had a nice salad for breakfast (well, it was a little too full of olives for my taste, but it was okay). Then I got in line at the palace to buy a ticket to the gardens, which I had not had time to see the day before. They are beautiful, too, full of interesting statues and nicely pruned hedges. Walking around started to be less enjoyable as the sun rose higher and it got warmer, though. I definitely didn't see everything there was to see. I might have missed a fountain and a hedge or two. Maybe even some pretty flowers or a statue, but I hope not.
The best part of the garden by far was shopped my way across the Ponte Vecchio and stopped at a sort of fancy gelato place, wanting to sit down and use the internet for a bit.
Turns out you can't get gelato and sit down there without getting charged more than twice the price. I spent €10 there in two scoops of gelato and a small water. Don't do the math there or you might want to cry. It was pretty horrible.
Continuing to look into stores as I walked, I found what looked just like a Claire's back home and couldn't resist going in. Cheap jewelry and other accessories? After the insane prices of everything else I'd seen that sounded perfect to me. I spent some money there, happily leaving with a little ring and a bracelet with an owl on it.
The rest of the afternoon I spent looking at the amazing buildings of Florence and trying to learn the layout of the city a bit. I got a tiny bit lost, but it was no big deal. Florence is all beautiful, so getting lost is just a different kind of sightseeing. Plus I got to talk to random people who had maps. Some were very nice. One boy was going to BU in the fall. Maybe I'll run into him in Boston. Who knows.
When I got back to Davide's house he told me he was going to his friend Andrea's house for dinner and I was invited. He was apparently making pasta, though, so Davide thought I should go get some gluten free pasta to bring. Conveniently there was a pharmacy about one block from the house, and I had read that in Italy, that is the place you go to buy gluten free food.
I came back to the apartment with bread, biscotti (cookies) and pasta. The woman had also told me they would order anything I could think of and it would be there half a day. I am sad that I never used that option. I did buy almost everything they had, though. I couldn't resist.
The dinner party at Andrea's house was great. Pasta with a fantastic homemade sauce, sparkling wine courtesy of Davide, listening to Gypsy Kings, three Italian guys talking and joking around and me having no idea what they were saying, spying on people across the street from the window. Just a lot of fun.
After dinner we all went to Piazza Santa Spirito, which I had gathered was an outdoor hangout place for a lot of people. It was nice that you could just bring your own drink and meet tons of new people there. I didn't that night, really, because no one really spoke English around me. I still enjoyed myself, though, and when I got really tired I just went upstairs and went to bed.
The next morning when I woke up Davide offered me a milkshake made of cantaloupe and milk. It was surprisingly tasty, I have to admit. Then I took some of my bread and, since he didn't have a toaster, heated it in a frying pan. It worked fine, and it was nice to have some toast and jam with my espresso and milkshake.
We left the house and walked over to a little market that was going on in the Piazza. I bought a hat there, which was cheap and has been working just fine to keep the sun off my face. Crossing the bridge once again, I bought some bracelets at a street vendor scamming tourists. I don't know why. I felt like it. They were colorful.
Around that time I ran into Jerry and Maeve again, and they recommended a restaurant with very good dessert. I have yet to check it out. I probably won't have time now. It was great just to see the two of them again.
I went to La Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana (or The Laurentian Library) after that. Someone in Amsterdam had recommended it to me. The line to get in wasn't very long and because it was inexpensive I bought a ticket including the church or was located in. Sadly, I didn't see very many books in the library. The architecture was nice (like most architecture in Italy), but I wanted books and I guess they were mostly too old to be there on display. The church was also a little anticlimactic, but it included an interesting audioguide.
There was a restaurant with gluten free food right around the corner, though, so I went there for lunch. I got ravioli, which was very good. It was filled with spinach and ricotta and had a nicely flavored tomato sauce. I have to admit, though, I do like my ravioli big and fat, and these were tiny. Still delicious, but puny. Just saying. (Yay, I got gluten free ravioli!)
I thought about going to see the Uffizi Gallery that day. Jerry and Maeve had raved about it, so I felt obligated. The line, however, made me feel a little sick to look at. I decided to sit on the steps and write am angry blog post instead. I'm sure you've read it.
I got some watermelon at a cafe and used their wifi. When I was leaving, a guy working there asked me if I wanted to meet him after work. Out of the blue. Seriously, Italian guys, can yourselves. When I said I didn't think I could he tried to give me his number, so I just said no straight out and walked away.
I wandered into a shop selling leather jackets because I was bored and not yet hungry enough to eat dinner (that was my whole plan for the rest of the day). The woman tried really, really hard to sell me a jacket. I don't know where she got the idea that I had €150-€500 to spend, especially since she thought I looked 16. She even brought me to get storeroom, which was down the street, because they had more red/orange jackets there. If only they had been fake leather/ affordable.
To get directions to the restaurant I wanted to try for dinner I stopped at a cafe and got chocolate gelato. I had to get the wifi password, right? Don't worry, it didn't ruin my appetite. When I got to the restaurant I ordered a glass of prosecco and a margharita (plain cheese) pizza. Once I had finished most of that I asked about dessert and the guy said good things about their homemade apple pie (it was actually cake, but I was so okay with that), so I got a slice of that. Good food, good day. Same thing, really.
I eventually went back to Davide's apartment and did some laundry, drank some wine and watched some silly YouTube videos with him to celebrate my last night at his house. He is in Croatia right now, probably having a blast. Before I went to sleep that night he also helped me book a hostel for my last two nights in Florence (no more last minute couchsurfing for me) and a bed and breakfast for Venice. I did that on a whim, really. I felt like pampering myself.
So yesterday I woke up early (after going to bed late, like every day in Italy) and folded all my dry laundry, packed, ate some toast, took a shower. Davide wanted to leave earlier than normal, so I managed to get out the door like ten minutes before 10. He walked me part of the way to the hostel, and then we said our goodbyes. He was seriously an awesome host and a good friend.
The hostel was very cool, with a bar and stage in the common room and a really laidback environment. Very artsy and fun, worth the kind of expensive price. They had a late check in time, though, so I left my luggage there and walked back across the bridge to the center.
I was determined to go to the Uffizi this time. I got there, saw the line and had this kind of sinking feeling as I walked toward it. And then I saw a sign saying "to make advanced reservations, this way" with no line. I thought I'd just get my ticket for the next day. Why not. Turns out I could get a ticket there for the next half hour. It cost me an extra €4, but I didn't have to wait for two hours in line, I just had to find something to do for a little while. I felt so accomplished.
With my half an hour to spare I got a ticket to the Palazzo Vecchio, which is right next to the Uffizi and way less crowded. I got back to the Uffizi with ten minutes to spare, but they let me right in. No one really reads your ticket until you are all the way upstairs anyway. The most famous gallery in Florence and I hadn't waited in line at all! Woohoo.
Still, it was crowded inside. So much famous, amazing art. Some of it almost too famous, since I felt like I had seen it many times before. And some of it, though exquisitely rendered by well known painters, was boring for me, because it was all about Jesus and his life and I have very little interest in that.
I really love all of the art that is about the previous, poletheistic or pagan religion of Italy. I love the Roman pantheon of gods and goddesses, demigods and nymphs. Just the mythology and the imagination of it all. There is so much going on, always. So many characters, creatures, worlds. I could stare at a piece of art depicting one of those stories for hours, and when I see another painting of Mary and baby Jesus I just feel disappointed.
Maybe I was less in awe because I had seen so much beautiful art in one week already. Who knows. All in all I think the Galleria Degli Uffizi was definitely worth seeing. A place you have to see while in Italy, for sure. Get the ticket ahead of time, though, and be aware that if you are anything like me you will find parts of it overrated. Some of the art is breathtaking and brilliant and impossible to imagine, but some is a bit dull.
For lunch I went to the restaurant I had gone to for dinner the night before. They remembered me and sat me at the same table, offering another glass of the same wine. I declined, being in a much tighter budget and thinking a day without any drinking might be nice. I ordered bruschetta as an appetizer and fettucini alfredo for the meal.
The bruschetta took a very long time to arrive, and I was regretting spending the €7 in it even before it arrived. When it did the bread was not as good as I had imagined, very crumbly and thin. The tomatoes made it so soggy I had to basically spoon bites of it into my mouth. It was nothing like the delicious bruschetta I had had on my last night in Rome and it cost almost twice the amount.
The fettucini alfrefo (which I had heard they didn't even have in Italy, so maybe it was on the menu for tourists) was good, but I couldn't finish it after making myself eat all of the appetizer. I had figured I would bring leftovers back to the hostel with me, like I had done with the pizza the night before. After waiting there, too full to take another bite, for maybe twenty minutes, the waiter finally noticed me and took my plate. He didn't ask if I wanted it wrapped up, just took it away.
It took him another twenty minutes, I think, to get the check for me. I wanted to just hand them the money, but they refused to take it without bringing me the receipt first. The receipt was dropped on the table and they walked away. Ten minutes later I got up and tracked them down. Needless to say I didn't add anything to their 10% service charge.
I went into the Palazzo Vecchio after lunch. I already had the ticket, so I just walked up the stairs and got right in. I don't have much to say about the place, really. I enjoyed seeing the building, the wall frescos the old furniture. It was a small, not amazingly beautiful museum, and I was very tired already from the Uffizi.
On the way back to the hostel I spent the last of my daily budget on a couple of groceries at a little Asian market that wasn't all that Asian. It was funny for some reason to be automatically addressed in Italian by someone who clearly had a different first language. I handed him the pasta sauce and cheese without a word, smiling to be polite and waiting for him to realize i didn't understand.
At the hostel I got officially checked in and brought my luggage to my room, which I was sharing with one other person. His name is Michael and he's from Germany. I didn't meet him for a little while, because I was downstairs using the computer and just hanging out. They give you a free drink at check in, so so much for no drinking that day at all.
When I did go up to my room (to charge my phone) I spent a while talking Michael's ear off about Rome and Florence and I have no idea what else. Then I put in some headphones and listened to some music, writing just random thoughts that turned into a letter to someone I missed. I was crying, actually. I miss them a lot, but I didn't think I would just start silently crying. It must have been a bit awkward for Michael.
He went downstairs and when I had composed myself a bit I followed him. I wanted to leave a little bit better of an impression on my roommate. I sat with him at the bar while he drank a few beers, made myself some pasta and had a couple laughs. Then I went to bed. Early, by Italian standards. It was nice.
Actually, it was hot. Too hot. Almost unbearably. But I did fall asleep and after that it was just pleasant dreams.
Actually, they might not have been pleasant at all. I know they had to do with missing people or people I miss and I woke up feeling a bit sad.
Whatever. I slept. A lot. It was good for me. More of that tonight, hopefully. This time with the AC on and the mosquitos locked outside.

The best part of the garden by far was shopped my way across the Ponte Vecchio and stopped at a sort of fancy gelato place, wanting to sit down and use the internet for a bit.
Turns out you can't get gelato and sit down there without getting charged more than twice the price. I spent €10 there in two scoops of gelato and a small water. Don't do the math there or you might want to cry. It was pretty horrible.

The rest of the afternoon I spent looking at the amazing buildings of Florence and trying to learn the layout of the city a bit. I got a tiny bit lost, but it was no big deal. Florence is all beautiful, so getting lost is just a different kind of sightseeing. Plus I got to talk to random people who had maps. Some were very nice. One boy was going to BU in the fall. Maybe I'll run into him in Boston. Who knows.

I came back to the apartment with bread, biscotti (cookies) and pasta. The woman had also told me they would order anything I could think of and it would be there half a day. I am sad that I never used that option. I did buy almost everything they had, though. I couldn't resist.
The dinner party at Andrea's house was great. Pasta with a fantastic homemade sauce, sparkling wine courtesy of Davide, listening to Gypsy Kings, three Italian guys talking and joking around and me having no idea what they were saying, spying on people across the street from the window. Just a lot of fun.

The next morning when I woke up Davide offered me a milkshake made of cantaloupe and milk. It was surprisingly tasty, I have to admit. Then I took some of my bread and, since he didn't have a toaster, heated it in a frying pan. It worked fine, and it was nice to have some toast and jam with my espresso and milkshake.

Around that time I ran into Jerry and Maeve again, and they recommended a restaurant with very good dessert. I have yet to check it out. I probably won't have time now. It was great just to see the two of them again.
I went to La Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana (or The Laurentian Library) after that. Someone in Amsterdam had recommended it to me. The line to get in wasn't very long and because it was inexpensive I bought a ticket including the church or was located in. Sadly, I didn't see very many books in the library. The architecture was nice (like most architecture in Italy), but I wanted books and I guess they were mostly too old to be there on display. The church was also a little anticlimactic, but it included an interesting audioguide.

I thought about going to see the Uffizi Gallery that day. Jerry and Maeve had raved about it, so I felt obligated. The line, however, made me feel a little sick to look at. I decided to sit on the steps and write am angry blog post instead. I'm sure you've read it.

I wandered into a shop selling leather jackets because I was bored and not yet hungry enough to eat dinner (that was my whole plan for the rest of the day). The woman tried really, really hard to sell me a jacket. I don't know where she got the idea that I had €150-€500 to spend, especially since she thought I looked 16. She even brought me to get storeroom, which was down the street, because they had more red/orange jackets there. If only they had been fake leather/ affordable.


So yesterday I woke up early (after going to bed late, like every day in Italy) and folded all my dry laundry, packed, ate some toast, took a shower. Davide wanted to leave earlier than normal, so I managed to get out the door like ten minutes before 10. He walked me part of the way to the hostel, and then we said our goodbyes. He was seriously an awesome host and a good friend.

I was determined to go to the Uffizi this time. I got there, saw the line and had this kind of sinking feeling as I walked toward it. And then I saw a sign saying "to make advanced reservations, this way" with no line. I thought I'd just get my ticket for the next day. Why not. Turns out I could get a ticket there for the next half hour. It cost me an extra €4, but I didn't have to wait for two hours in line, I just had to find something to do for a little while. I felt so accomplished.

Still, it was crowded inside. So much famous, amazing art. Some of it almost too famous, since I felt like I had seen it many times before. And some of it, though exquisitely rendered by well known painters, was boring for me, because it was all about Jesus and his life and I have very little interest in that.

Maybe I was less in awe because I had seen so much beautiful art in one week already. Who knows. All in all I think the Galleria Degli Uffizi was definitely worth seeing. A place you have to see while in Italy, for sure. Get the ticket ahead of time, though, and be aware that if you are anything like me you will find parts of it overrated. Some of the art is breathtaking and brilliant and impossible to imagine, but some is a bit dull.



It took him another twenty minutes, I think, to get the check for me. I wanted to just hand them the money, but they refused to take it without bringing me the receipt first. The receipt was dropped on the table and they walked away. Ten minutes later I got up and tracked them down. Needless to say I didn't add anything to their 10% service charge.

On the way back to the hostel I spent the last of my daily budget on a couple of groceries at a little Asian market that wasn't all that Asian. It was funny for some reason to be automatically addressed in Italian by someone who clearly had a different first language. I handed him the pasta sauce and cheese without a word, smiling to be polite and waiting for him to realize i didn't understand.

When I did go up to my room (to charge my phone) I spent a while talking Michael's ear off about Rome and Florence and I have no idea what else. Then I put in some headphones and listened to some music, writing just random thoughts that turned into a letter to someone I missed. I was crying, actually. I miss them a lot, but I didn't think I would just start silently crying. It must have been a bit awkward for Michael.

Actually, it was hot. Too hot. Almost unbearably. But I did fall asleep and after that it was just pleasant dreams.
Actually, they might not have been pleasant at all. I know they had to do with missing people or people I miss and I woke up feeling a bit sad.
Whatever. I slept. A lot. It was good for me. More of that tonight, hopefully. This time with the AC on and the mosquitos locked outside.
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