April 21, Florence. My favorite city in Italy. We arrived at 11:20am by train from Rome, too early for the 3pm check in at the airbnb we rented in San Niccolo. So we decided to hop into a cab with our suitcases and head for the Piazza Della Signoria, thinking Niccolo and I could visit the Uffizi while killing time. Well, we were way off the mark! The line at the Uffizi was serpentine and would take 2-3 hours to get a ticket. Some men approached us selling tickets at 45 Euros each. Scalpers exist even in Florence. We declined and decided to have lunch instead.
Bea scouted the area, and found a restaurant called Osteria Della Porcellino by a side street near the Mercato Nuovo. It was empty, and we felt it would be a good place to while away the time while waiting to check in. Besides, we had to park our suitcases somewhere. Cara was excited to try the Ragu de Chinggale, but it turned out that they had recently changed their menu. They only had seafood ragu, so that’s what Bea ordered. Cara had a fried Brie salad coated with sesame crumbs over a bed of rocket while Niccolo and I decided on Crespelle alla Florentina, which is a heartier version of lasagna with spinach and ricotta.
One thing you need to know about eating in restaurants in Italy is they charge a Pane e Servizio fee per person on top of what you eat, anywhere from 1.50 or 2.00 Euros. For this, they give you a small basket of bread, which in the Osteria’s case seemed to be days old. Another thing is that water is expensive. A bottle of water good for four glasses is 5 Euros. Wine is cheaper. They served the food so fast that we were done by 1 pm, still a long way to go till 3pm.
The waitress kept badgering us to order dessert, but we didn’t want to. Instead, Bea ordered another bottle of water. Once again, the waitress came and asked plaintively if we were going to have dessert. So, Bea and Niccolo ordered coffee. After he drank his coffee, Niccolo and Cara went off to a nearby store. By this time, the waitress was giving us the evil eye, wanting us to leave and vacate the table. Since there were several empty tables, we stayed our ground, and I ordered a macchiato, nursing it until the children came back. It was a test of wills, with the waitress giving us dagger eyes. When they returned at 2pm, we paid the bill and left with our suitcases.
With an hour to spare, we took turns window shopping and watching the suitcases by the market. I had my picture taken next to the wild boar, Florence’s version of the Fountain of Trevi. The tradition is to put a coin in the boar’s mouth, and the coin slides into a locked grate by its feet. If the coin goes in, then you will return to Florence. Bea had fun taking photos, while Niccolo went off to explore the plaza. We then took a cab to San Niccolo.
Our airbnb turned out really nice. It was an old high-ceilinged apartment on the third floor, with two bedrooms, a small living/dining room, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. It had stucco walls, a shiny wooden floor, and exposed wooden beams. Best of all, the beds were comfortable, and they had Internet! Alesso, our host, explained the rules and asked us to pay the Florentine tourist tax of 2.50 Euros per person per night. This is again another hidden cost that tourists need to be aware of when traveling to Italy. The neighborhood was quiet and pretty. After dropping off our bags, we went walking to explore the city.
Near the apartment was Via di San Niccolo, and we asked Niccolo to pose under the street name, as it was his namesake. We walked along the Fiume Arno, a river that traverses Florence, and eventually found our way to Ponte Vecchio, but not before our young man insisted we stop at Covaccini for a pizza. This little pizza shop sported an Astro menu: a different kind of pizza for each astrological sign. The children sat on the bench in front of the shop, while Niccolo ate his pizza.
Ponte Vecchio is one of the most beautiful bridges I’ve seen. Lined on either side by antique jewelry and watch stores, the place seemed festive with so many people walking leisurely. As it was still too early to view the sunset from the bridge, we decided to explore the city first. And I am glad we did, because Cara spied a poster announcing a Klimt exhibit in one of the side streets. We followed the sign and ended up at Santo Stefano Al Ponte, a small church. We bought tickets and entered the church where the exhibit was. It was mind-blowing and totally unexpected!
At the crypt, we experienced the Austrian painter Klimt in virtual reality, wearing headsets that allowed us to enter into the paintings of Klimt, navigating its depth, coming up close to the lovers in The Kiss, exploring the landscape and the peaceful waters of The Tree of LIfe, feeling the heat of the fiery flames, and much more. From the crypt, we moved to the church for the main exhibit.
The exhibit was an immersive experience in Gustav Klimt’s art. Images, lights, colors, music, and sounds enveloped us as we soaked in the beauty of Klimt’s masterpieces. Everywhere we looked, Klimt’s art came alive, on the walls, the ceilings and the floor of the church. Cara and I lay down on the floor and watched entranced, while Bea and Niccolo preferred to watch from the benches. We left speechless and in awe.
I was still bemused and overwhelmed by the amazing experience I just had, that leaving the church, I did not notice that a cobblestone was missing. My right foot buckled and I fell headlong onto the pavement. The children heard my scream and ran back to help me sit up. I was deathly afraid I had broken my foot, but luckily, I could still flex my foot. Because I was bundled up for the cold, I avoided any scrapes. Gingerly, I tried to stand up and could not bear the pain of walking on my right foot.
Niccolo and I took a cab back to the apartment, while the girls went to buy supplies and food for dinner. Ever solicitous, Niccolo put cold compress on my foot and had me lying down with my right foot propped up. I fell asleep exhausted and in pain, and was woken up when the girls arrived with dinner.
Dinner was simply superb, with ragu spaghetti, meatballs with spinach, an orzo and zucchini salad, salmon and artichoke gnocchi, cold cuts and truffle cheese, washed down with La Piuma, a Montepulciano D’Abruzzo red. The only thing missing was dessert.
After dinner, Bea consulted with her doctor friends to find out what to do about my foot. Luckily, one of them is an orthopedic doctor. After a virtual consultation helped along by technology, the doctor said it appeared to be a mild sprain (no broken bones) and I was advised to rest. And that’s what I did all of the next day. I pray that I will be well enough to explore this city tomorrow.