I am a third-year Computer and Business Studies student at Warwick University. I do my best to rate...
I am a third-year Computer and Business Studies student at Warwick University. I do my best to rate the opinions of those who have rated mine, and will try especially hard in the case of those who have provided helpful comments on my reviews.
Member since:16.01.2001
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It was the solar eclipse that summer of 1999, and my two traveling companions insisted on journeying to Austria in order to see it. Rather than waste time and money, and eventually witness the spectacular occasion in a mountain puddle (which, incidentally, is what they were forced to do), I decided to spend a good few days on my own, in Italy.
I remembered that about two weeks earlier, on the night train to Rome, we had met some 16-year old (!) Italian boy scouts from Florence. Seeing as they spoke no English and I spoke no Italian, we were able to communicate surprisingly well. We talked of Italian football, and of their home city, which they highly recommended. Okay, I now thought, I may as well visit Florence. It seemed as good a choice as any.
Arriving at Florence station, I was offered a “stunning” apartment situated in the center of town, for 60,000 lire ($26.60, £18.59) a night. Seeing as I blatantly did not require such luxury, I ended up staying at a friendly
youth hostel for half the above price, not far from the center of town.
I must admit that when I first set eyes upon the main attractions of the city, I was less than impressed. I don’t know what it was. Maybe I was just tired after an arduous train journey, and was thus even more unable to cope with the noon heat. I walked past the Duomo and the Baptistry with increasing apathy.
My impressions of the city began to change after lunch at an excellent pizzeria on the way back to my accommodation. I proceeded to a launderette on the same road, and found the staff to be exceedingly friendly and helpful. I witnessed a rather comical yet worrying incident when a young American couple from Texas threw up a fuss at the high price. Their load just could not fit into one machine, the staff insisted, so were told to use two. They ended up being charged double – yes, double, even though their load fit into one tumble dryer. The argument continued until one of the staff threatened to call the carabinieri, at which point the Americans swiftly calmed down, paid, and left.
That night I went to a pub with two English guys from the hostel. The locals there were again very friendly. Overall, I found Florence a lot more receptive to tourists than even Rome, with considerably fewer dodgy characters out to con you.
The next day I went out to see the sights. Strangely enough, the Duomo now looked far more beautiful than when I had first set eyes on it. A massive dome of white, pink, and green marble rose above the square. This, the world’s fourth-largest cathedral, was awe-inspiring. I proceeded to the nearby Baptistry, one of the city’s oldest buildings. I paid special attention to the bronze doors, those on the south having been done by Pisano, and those on the east (dubbed the “Gates of Paradise”) by Ghiberti. The baptistry’s interior was filled with wooden pews, to enable visitors to more easily examine the dome’s ceiling. This was inlaid with impressive, colorful mosaics portraying the Last Judgment.
A short walk brought me to the Piazza della Signoria. An incongruous, but nevertheless pleasing arrangement of old and modern sculptures greeted my eyes. The older ones (including Michelangelo’s David) were in a good state of repair. The new sculptures were strange, portraying various bloated creatures that looked as if they had been blown up with a pump. Parading around the large square was a great deal of carabinieri, brandishing machine guns. I think this unusually high concentration of the local police had something to do with a bomb attack here a few years ago.
The Uffizi art gallery was off the square. The queue here was enormous, and I had heard stories from people at the hostel of waiting periods exceeding two hours. I got up as early as I could manage (about eight), confident of a short wait. I was wrong. The line was already quite big on my arrival, and it took just over an hour to gain admission. The wait was well worth it though.
The less well-known Bargello was also around the square. It had a fortified exterior, as it had been a former prison, but I quite liked the look of it. Along with the Duomo, it can be regarded as a symbol of the city, appearing on a high proportion of Florentine postcards.
Close by was the River Arno, spanned by the Ponte Vecchio. Crossing it, I passed innumerable gold and silver jewelry stores. On this side of the river were a few more great places to eat. Pressing on still further, climbing up a hill by means of concrete walkways and stairs, one reaches the Piazzale Michelangelo. This afforded an exceptional view of the city, with chilled music from a jazz band in the background. A great place to sit out the noon sun, if one can be bothered to conquer the hill in the first place.
The last sight I visited was the Church of Santa Croce. Monastic chants were playing over loudspeakers when I entered; I don’t know if this is always the case. The church’s interior seemed rather dull in comparison to that of the Baptistry.
Oh, and if possible, try to catch a home game of Fiorentina, the local soccer club. I went to see a Champions’ League qualifier, between the home team and Widzew Lodz of Poland. Accompanying me were Maximiliano, an Argentinean who especially wanted to see Gabriel Batistuta (who now plays for AS Roma), and Jonas, a Canadian who had never seen a live soccer match. We acquired tickets at a bar just outside the stadium, a few hours before kick-off.
We all thoroughly enjoyed the game. The 35,000 capacity stadium was not quite full, but the atmosphere was tremendous. Ironically, Batistuta went off injured after five minutes, but luckily for Maximiliano another Argentinean, Abel Balbo, took his place. Fiorentina ended up winning 3-1. If you have yet to see a soccer match live, there are far worse places to start.
Overall, I am glad I showed independence in visiting Florence. In doing so, I neatly avoided the disastrous chain of events that befell my friends in Austria. Florence actually turned out to be my favorite city in Italy, above Rome and Venice. Well worth a visit!
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![Vista Point Florence Italy [DVD] [NTSC]](http://picnica.ciao.com/uk/96308028.jpg "Vista Point Florence Italy [DVD] [NTSC]")
Jan 16th, 2001
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