Caelli Lilian in Florence (Italy, Part III)

Florence is a lovely city.  Like everywhere else in Europe, it's full of history, culture and beautiful buildings, but it does have one big flaw.  Florence is essentially one big tourist trap.  What was once a centre of light and culture and art has now become so full of foreign visitors wanting a piece of light and culture and art, mostly for the exclusivity, that the whole city is about catering to the stereotyped desires of the tourists to the point that 'Florence' has become almost impossible to find.

That's not to say, however, that it is impossible.  You just have to be willing to try; the 'discerning tourist', as Laure and I put it yesterday.  Laure was the Franco-Austrian-English-speaking Sorbonne alum, with whom I wandered Florence yesterday and visited several 'key' tourist sites.  Today, free from her (slightly pernicious) influence, travelled alone and did what I love to do most in new cities - wander aimless and let the adventures find me.

I visited Il Duomo, the traiditional main domed church of Firenze; Santa Maria Novella, another big church; the Palazzo Vecchio, a palace-turned-museum; the famous Ponte Vecchio, the bridge-street that crosses the river; St. Mark's English Church; Dante's church; and so many smaller random places that won't even get a mention.  I have a few places on the cards for tomorrow, based on where I couldn't or didn't go today.  I've done a bit of shopping for a few things I wanted and posted a few postcards.

In my wanderings today I found a market in one of the piazzas - an actual market, not just a collection of street vendors, that reminded me a little of the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul.  It was fun to look, even though I knew the prices were inflated tourist ones.  Behind the market I found the bronze boar that Alessandra had told me about and touched its nose.  I also took a coin and pushed it into the boar's mini-waterspout mouth, since that seemed to be the thing to do, and then removed my hand and watched the coin slip from the boar's mouth and into the money-filled grate below the boar's mouth.  Apparently that's a good sign.

I was on my way to the Chiesa dello Santo Spirito today, the Church of the Holy Spirit, since it looked really interesting, when I stumbled upon something else, one of the 'hidden gems' that I always look for in a city.  Apparently this church was English - as in, British.  The open door of St. Mark's bore an invitation to enter, so I did.  The interior decoration was fascinting, the oddest melding of cultures and religions that I've seen anywhere, very strange.  I realised after a while there was a service happening in the corner for a congregation of two, so I stood and watched most of it and quietly and unobtrusively as I could.  When it was finished the priest quickly walked out from behind the altar and through a door that obviously led to the church office or dressingroom, and I was a little surprised at his abruptness.  A minute later, though, just as I was turning away, he reappeared, stripped of his ceremonial mass robes and garbed in a plain white one, and approached me.  "Hello.  Do you speak English?"  He told me some interesting stories about the church, asked about why I was in Europe and Florence with my Australian accent (nb. first time anyone has correctly recognised my accent, since my ESL friends don't have the experience to recognise accents and even to many native speakers, especially Americans, my accent is so nondescript as to e unplaceable) and invited me to come to the main mass on Sunday.  If I can get there on time I might actually do it, since attending Sunday Mass at an English church in Florence would be an interesting experience to add to the list.

The youth hostel is not bad, though the hike from the road and the long bus trip into town are sort of downers, and the experience is interesting, though the French girls are getting a bit wearing - they're all very opinionated and love the sound of their own voices (they make me look - and act! - very quiet by comparison), so I've stopped initiating conversations with them.  I did meet a cool South African guy yesterday over breakfast, and there have been some nice Canadians around too.  It's all part of the adventure.

Il Duomo

Laure and I were admiring the...artisanry

Lucky-nosed boar

One of my random-wandering streets

Views of Florence from Ponte Vecchio

These are woven - yes, woven - out of grass reeds by the owner of the legs you see in the photo

A typical (yummy) Italian lunch near San Spirito

Views of Ponte Vecchio (from Ponte Trinita)

Santa Maria Novella Church