While I was gallivanting around Lisbon, Jesse snuck off to Florence for a few days to try to eat his way through the city. When I was in Florence years ago I remember hot days with gelato and lots of art museums, art history, art lectures, and art galleries. (I saw a lot of art. I could recognize a Botticelli at once.) Jesse’s visit was a bit different, and he graciously wrote a little guest post today:
Many people would call it a sin to visit Florence and not set foot in even one of it’s famous museums. My name’s Jesse and I’m a sinner.
This was a trip by myself, at my own pace. I went with the intention of random exploration, and, considering I walked about 40km, I’d say I did a darn good job. I’d rather be out amongst the locals than spending two hours in line at a museum. I want to feel like I live in the place I’m visiting. I want to eat, drink, and be merry. Luckily my coworker who lived in Florence made me a list of must-eat foods. I tried them all.
During one of my regular eating/reading stops I was sitting in a park when a lady came up to feed the pigeons. Amongst the chaos was a pigeon with a white mohawk. I think I took about twenty pictures to make sure I had a good one. One would think that if I took that many pictures of a bird that I might have one or two of the food. Unfortunately, I was too busy eating to take any.
This was my first trip to Italy, and, I’ll admit, some of my expectations might have been set a little high. But only a few. The city was beautiful, and the food was delicious. Next trip to Italy I plan to spend some time in a small village out in the countryside, maybe one that is famous for salami.
My one tourist destination was the large cathedral, Il Duomo, in the city center. I wanted to scale its many staircases to take in the incredible view from the top. I made it there before the rush and lucked out with only three people in line. When I came out the line wrapped around the cathedral.
Katrina likes to go into an adventure with a well-laid plan. I like to go in with an empty stomach. Normally, we do a good job of balancing each other out. In Italy, however, my way is clearly the winner.