If you hadn’t noticed our planning prior to this trip ended with our arrival in Italy and so our destinations and calendar are operating on the fly at this point. While in Naples we made arrangements with Leah to meet up with her once we reached Florence, but Ben and I both being from D.C. and remembering with disdain the repeat trips we took to the Washington Monument or National Gallery whenever a family member popped into town, decided we would take care of the tourist side of Florence ourselves prior to getting together with Leah and her Irish boyfriend John.

Tiny Ben in Front of David

We checked into our hostel which was both by comparison to the last shit hole we stayed in and on its own merits a really nice place called the Emerald Palace. There are numerous things you have to see when in Florence and Shea had given us a million of them but with our limited time we decided to go see Michelangelo’s David Thursday followed by the Duomo and the Uffizi gallery on Friday.

So far our trip has been fairly line free but we accepted the fact that Florence would break this trend and entered the non-reservation line at the Galeria Academia to see Michelangelo’s famous sculpture. While en queue a gentleman behind us noted our hats and commented that he too was an alumnus of Virginia. A lonely man and for fairly obvious reasons he droned on in a monotone about his travels in Italy, his meals, his digestive problems, generally everything we didn’t want, need or care to hear about while stuck in a line with no possible escape. After buying our tickets, like six Euro’s each, we quickly realized that our money and the horrible wait with the poor man’s Stephen Hawking were well worth it. To be genuinely awestruck is a pretty uncommon feeling and Ben and I are lucky to have had that opportunity twice this week with our previous visit to the Sistine Chapel and Thursday’s viewing of David. You really can’t imagine just how huge the statue is until your there and how perfect it stands coming from just one piece of marble while surrounded by works that are pinned together to hold their form. Although you can’t take pictures we snapped a few for posterity and to try and give a measure of scale to what I would say is the most impressive work of art I have seen in my life to date. Sorry for the rant but anyone who has been there will agree.

Once our jaws having returned to their normal positions we grabbed a few bottles of wine and made our way back to the hostel to catch up on writing, pictures and rest. After an evening of drinking we found a few hostel mates to go out on the town with, namely our roommate Will from Colorado, Carlo the Brazilian, and Tenesha from Sacramento. We went to a local bar and convinced Tenesha to steal a nearby umbrella as it was raining Thursday night and we don’t mind encouraging others to commit crimes. Down the street we found what may be one of my favorite aspects of Italy, a shop where they bottle wine for you from large casks and it only costs like two Euro’s for a really good bottle. A few of these and we were set to find something a bit more lively. While my memory fades at the next few bars the only really good story from the debauchery encountered that night finds Ben on the dance floor with another American we ran into downtown. After a brief half dance half make out session she stops him to ask the all important question (to girls, guys could care less).

Girl: Wait, wait. Do you even know my name?
Ben: (rears head back and laughs) Not a chance!
Girl: Oh god.
Ben: (realizes that as comical as this was, his good chance of laying pipe was dwindling) Ummmm…uhhhh. No no. Wait I have it. I’m kidding.
Girl: Oh god.
Ben: I think it starts with an L…uhhh.
Lustful look once in her eyes rapidly fading.
Ben: L..Lindsey? Something with an L?
Girl walks away. Ben shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and finds his friends.

The next morning we set out to see Botticelli’s famous “Ascension of Venus” and “Spring” at the famous (or at least famous in Florence) Uffizi gallery. Another long queue and right when we get to the front we encounter what has become a staple of non-British lines, the cutter. This time it’s a family with a blind father who walk directly to the front of an hour and a half line. I am normally an incredibly patient and non-confrontational person but this trip and numerous line jumpers have taken some of this away from me. I turn to Ben and say I’m not taking this shit anymore and proceed to inform a blind man that he and his precious family need to go to the back of the line which cannot even be seen from our present location, even if you possessed the gift of sight. Although they found some way to get in through another entrance without a horribly long wait, I did feel some pride in having at least resolved the issue as far as I could for my fellow patient line buddies.

Ben’s editing comment:

I just read this and did not realize that he was blind. In fact, handicapped people do get to cut the line. I just informed Ryan of this and he tried to justify his actions with a “but he should have been in the other line” comment followed by “using a blind guy to cut the line is a cheap way of getting in.” I currently feel very terrible about our actions and am completely convinced we are going to hell immediately following this trip.

Back to Ryan

A hung over tour of the gallery led us to missing the two pieces we had come to see and so we were forced to get back through the entrance (not the outer line just like 10 minutes.) Ben pleaded to just forget it but I hadn’t gone through all of this to be turned away from two of the only things I wanted to see in Florence. We viewed the “Ascension” or as some of our Australian hostel mates had referred to it “The Chick and The Clam” as well as “La Primavera” and went off to see the Duomo before contacting Leah to see the side of Florence that doesn’t involve long lines, but rather is rewarded with wine, panini, and gelato.

I set up a Skpye account (thats right, the return of drunk dialing!) and got in touch with Leah and John who we would meet at 230 that afternoon. Our flatmate and now good friend Tenesha (she greeted us upon our return to the hostel that afternoon with free wine she had just picked up) decided to join us as she and her travel companion had stopped talking altogether, a fate that I hope never reaches Ben and I on this trip. John takes the group to the Italia football stadium to get tickets for the evening match against Belgium, something we had not expected but immediately got excited for. Turns out if you are a foreigner or a man you have to pay a shitload of money for your tickets and so the idea was crushed then and there. Our next obvious stop was for panini, gelato, and finally and most importantly wine.

We sat on the steps of the Duomo and ate our gelato (picture right) while Leah gave us the best Florence history she could remember, which was a million times better than our standard practice of taking turns making up the history of a building or area to each other. With a bottle each we headed for Piazza Michelangelo on a hill overlooking Florence. After the David this is the one thing I would say a visitor to Florence must experience. We set up camp on a set of stairs and opened the bottels for one of the most memorable sunsets on the trip, and thankfully we now had the company of others to take away from the awkwardness of watching the sun set over the Italian countryside accompanied only by Ben.

At the Piazza, Italian Comedy Central had set up some sort of free comedy show also featuring Italian Total Request Live. By the time the sun had set and the wine had started to kick in, various comedians began to perform in front of a crowd, MAYBE, of 30 people. Tenesha, Ben, or myself don’t speak Italian and so Leah and John offered to translate the gist but it was very obvious…no one was laughing. These comics were crashing and burning in front of our eyes. The best one was a woman who failed to get a single laugh except from herself due to nervousness. Women comics are awful. Women Italian comics are the antithesis of funny.

Aided by a day of sightseeing and a bottle of wine, Tenesha and I had become rather friendly as the evening progressed and I realized this had become obvious when Ben turns to me and says, You have this, don’t fucking screw it up!. I suppose that is some sort of advice and I laughed and tried my best to heed it. While I won’t go into details the new found friendship did allow for a kiss or two at the Piazza which seemed fitting for the view and to cap off the evening.

After a long walk home and a few pints at a local Irish pub, with John being Irish it seemed a good opportunity to exchange stories and have a laugh as the night drew to a close. We thanked Leah and John for being incredible tour guides and showing us parts of Florence that we never would have found on our own. Ben, Tenesha and I went home for the hostel and Ben and I caught the early train to Cinque Terra but Florence definitely left us with memories and pictures that won’t be soon forgot.

Subscribe to Our RSS Feed