David

Yesterday morning, we started off from the hotel, all in a long column of tourists, toward the Duomo.  We were headed to meet up with a local guide, Leticia, who has lived in Florence her whole life.  She said she had a little extra time on her hands during the pandemic (as I suspect most people in the tourism industry did), and she traced her family records back for some insane number of generations.  She comes from a long line of Florentine people.  Apparently, this is done through baptism records.  She took us through town, to the Ponte Vecchio, which is Italian for Old Bridge.  It just sounds so much more interesting and romantic to say Ponte Vecchio.  Everything sounds more interesting in Italian.  I work as a school librarian.  In Italian, a librarian is a bibliotecaria.  See?  Sounds better.  

From the old bridge, we wandered, learning all about the impressive Italians entombed in the Basilica of Santa Croce and the marvel of architecture that is the massive terra cotta dome of the Duomo itself.  When that tour ended, Cas and I wandered until we found the perfect spot to eat lunch.  We were seated right next to the air conditioner, but facing the street in a very good restaurant.  They served what I suspect is Italy’s favorite drink, the Aperol Spritz.  We must have had a bad one in Como, because they're pretty good.  We’re gonna have to make those at home.  I had a salad, which doesn’t sound particularly Italian, but it was a Caesar salad, if that helps.  Honestly, I wanted a bowl of lettuce after so much amazing pasta.  From there, we rejoined our tour group and marched to the Academia.  I am sure the Italian tour guides love to pretend that anyone comes to the Academia to see all the art and other stuff, but honestly, we’re all there for David.  Of course.  They display it at the middle of everything, as they should, but let’s not fool ourselves that anything else in the building is as interesting.  

I had seen David once before, a few decades ago, but I forget how impressive things are sometimes.  My grandmother saw him and wrote a poem about the detail.  She had specifically been interested in the level of detail around the cuticles of the fingernails.  I went to see him in my twenties, and I managed to be impressed (if my decades-old travel journal is to be believed) by the detail in the toes.  Funny what you focus on.  This time, the tour guide we had wanted us to look at the two eyes independently.  It was a good tip, too.  His right eye almost looked afraid, while his left eye looked to be plotting and scheming.  What am amazing thing to be able to pull out of a block of marble.  

After David, Jeff and Reema went off to the Uffizi.  They had purchased tickets in advance, and those tickets were time-stamped.  Cas and I had no such tickets, and I was feeling a little museumed-out.  The Basilica, the Academy- sometimes, you need to hit refresh.  Leave it to Cas to find the perfect thing.  There was an interactive DaVinci museum near the Duomo.  It was a spot where people (mostly families with kids) can touch and play with representations of Leonardo’s inventions.  I was feeling pretty tired, but it was worth the visit.  

From there, we stopped at a sidewalk cafe near the Duomo and had a drink.  That sounds so cool, I want to say it again.  We stopped at a sidewalk cafe near the Duomo and had a drink.  See?  Sounds awesome.  After that, we had a pizza dinner while listening to a street performer play Spanish style guitar just a few feet away from the aforementioned Duomo.  It was such a full day that we were happy to get back to the hotel early and decompress.  We have an early start today as we head off to San Gimigano and Siena.  It was listed as a tour of Tuscan hill towns.  Sounds fun- I will tell you about it when we get back…  Here we go!