Around the World with Hardy(T)Around the World with Hardy(T)Despite some bastard nicking my alarm clock from the hostel in Rome, I still manage to drag myself to the station in time for the 9.05 to Florence. A thick shroud of mist prevents me from appreciating the Tuscan landscape on the way up. The procedure for getting accommodation in Florence in high season is as follows:
About 10 minutes
and 30,000 lire later, I am sharing a lovely room in the house of the charming
but eccentric Mrs. Rabatti with Belinda and Mark from Sydney and a German
called Tobias, who we immediately christen Two-Beers. We have a quick wander
around the Duomo (cathedral) area then pick up some picnic food and have
a splendid lunch on the banks of the Arno, looking up at the Ponte Vecchio.
This marvellous bridge dates back to Roman times, and it's one of the 
few things the Nazis didn't destroy when
they retreated from Italy in WWII. Apparently the Brislington area in Bristol
was originally named Arno's Vale because of it's likeness to this part of
Florence. Hmmm, can't quite see it myself.
We try to get into the Uffizi gallery immediately after lunch, but the queue is as long as any I suffered in Rome, so we decide to come back nearer closing time. I spend the afternoon wandering around, mostly in the Duomo area. (Note for travellers: there is an internet cafe very near the Duomo, next to the tourist information on, I think, Via San Edigo). In the Piazza Signora there are some magnificent statues, in particular, a copy of Michelangelo's David dominates one corner of the square.
The Ponte Vecchio
is lined with antique shops and gold and silversmiths. My budget allows
me to look rather than shop. More to my taste are some of the market stalls
selling nothing but... football shirts! On closer inspection, they are very
poor quality 'replicas' and I keep my lire in my pocket - besides they don't
have a Pompey shirt! (I am later persuaded to buy an 'authentic' Nigeria
shirt, but that, as Hammy would say, is another story...)
Sitting outside the Uffizi waiting for Belinda, I meet a couple of mad Aussies who have just arrived from Oktoberfest and look suitably disheveled. They show me a great gag: a number of tourists approach them asking if they will take a photo for them. One of the Aussies lines up the subject with some suitably impressive Florentine building in the background, while the other sneaks round behind the poor victim and gives it the V-sign or the wanker sign... he even mooned once. Brilliant! Eventually Belinda arrives and we queue 45 minutes to get into the Uffizi and, to be honest, it's a BIG disappointment. A lot of paintings were destroyed by a bomb in 1993 and, of those remaining, only the Botticellis really make an impression. Ho hum.
If it's nightlife you're after, Florence probably isn't the place, especially if you're on a tight budget. We spend the night eating expensive pasta and gelati and watching some dreadful street entertainers in the rain.
Apparently, so Belinda complains, Mark has been like her shadow for the past couple of weeks - he kind of tagged along with her for a couple of days in France about 3 weeks ago - so it is that she wakes me up early the next day and asks me to escape with her to Pisa, leaving Mark and Tobias behind! Cruel, but I can see where she is coming from!!! It's quite cheap and only takes about an hour on the train, so it's a fairly easy day trip from Florence - we're back by 2pm.
We spend the rest of the day trying to "see" Florence
without spending too much money. Our quest for a sub-3000 lire cappuccino
fails miserably, but we have a bit more success with the gelati. Most of
the Duomo is free to visit, so we spend most of our time in there. You can
get a close up view of the splendid bronze doors of the baptistery for free
but you have to pay to go in. Likewise the campanile from which, so I'm
told, you get an excellent view of the city. I'll never know. I content
myself to admire the cathedral from the outside. It really is a remarkable
building: the outside is completely decorated in the most ornate marble.
I also manage to order a haircut in Italian - traveller's tip: "barba
numero duo" will get you a very snappy No.2 shave and still leave you
with change from L10,000. Unfortunately, spending money on a haircut (and
that damn Nigeria shirt!) means that dinner is bread and cheese back at
the room... and gelati, of course!
The next day is another early start: up for the 7.15 train to Venice...