First day in Florence

After a solid night’s sleep, my alarm went off at six to get ready for breakfast at seven. I expected to feel worn out after being awake for the better part of twenty-four hours on the flight over. Instead, I felt refreshed and energized. How could I not be on the first day of finally experiencing a city that had long been a source of inspiration and wonder?

Breakfast was served at the apartments, with strong coffee and dolci, along with meats, cheeses, and juice. Everything was delicious and felt so fresh compared to the overly processed foods typical in the states. I savored every bite in between morning greetings as others joined and commented on how good everything was. We didn’t forget to let our hosts know how much this veritable feast was appreciated.

At 8, Nadia began an introductory briefing, making sure we all had her phone number and going over things such as how to validate tickets on the tram, avoiding certain types of ATMs, and of course, our agenda for the day.

Safety was another main topic and while reassuring us that Florence has a very low crime rate, we should also maintain a certain level of situational awareness. I mean, I already do that whenever I’m in a crowded public space at home, so being solo abroad for the first time? I got this.

In watching all kinds of videos prior to travel, there was a noted emphasis on pickpocketing as a major concern and keeping valuables in zippered pockets or cross body bags to reduce the risk of being an easy target. As others in the videos also stated, Nadia stressed being extra vigilant around gypsies—especially children. On one hand, I was  grateful to get solid, firsthand advice from a local who really knows her stuff. On the other, it was  a bit sad that the Romani people are still viewed, and in some ways treated, as second class citizens. Their way of life may be anathema to most, or perhaps largely misunderstood. It’s also possible that the reputation preceding any actual interaction has been well placed. Taking the many precautions seriously, I had come prepared and made sure to keep valuables secure. That said, I never felt uncomfortable or threatened during the entire three weeks. Neither did I roam around alone in the wee hours.

Leaving the apartments promptly at 9, we crossed a busy street to the tram. In the distance, the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore was on prominent display. I mentally pinched myself to make sure I was really here. Four stops down, the line terminated at the Unità station. A second guide joined us and after a brief history of Piazza Unità, took the group on a walking tour. We passed the Medici chapel, San Lorenzo, the Baptistry and Duomo. Then continued through Piazza della Republica, Mercato Nuovo, and into Piazza della Signoria—dominated by the imposing Palazzo Vecchio. Next, it was on to the Uffizi, which is steps away from the Arno and Ponte Vecchio. All the while, Emma was regaling us with facts and histories of this storied and celebrated city.

At the tail end of August, it was HOT! A heat wave was scorching the entirety of Europe and the temperature was 100ºF along with high humidity. Thankfully, I went classy and had plenty of handkerchiefs packed, which being unaccustomed to such moisture, this desert dweller sorely needed. I happened to check the weather in Tucson that day and surprisingly, it was cooler at home. Most likely due to an overcast or rainy day during monsoon season.

Leaving Ponte Vecchio after everyone had a chance to snap a couple photos, we took a slightly different route which opened onto Piazza di Santa Maria Novella, with the Dominican basilica of the same name at the far end. I was in heaven! Florence is one of the most walkable cities in the world, so the tour was less than two hours, but we had just walked through eighty percent of the entire Renaissance. And we hadn’t yet ventured into a single building housing those thousands of precious works in marble, oils, and wood.

Our guides led us to Novella Osteria which faces the piazza for lunch. In typical Italian fashion, there were several courses—antipasto, insalata, primo, e dolce—or appetizers, salad, pasta, and dessert. Everyone must have been famished as numerous plates being passed around were devoured quickly. For primo, I decided on Cacio e Pepe, a classic combination of four simple ingredients but somewhat challenging for novices to prepare. Believe me, I’ve tried. The first bite of creamy, peppery sauce with thick bucatini noodles cooked to al dente perfection practically melted in my mouth. Each flavor was distinct, from the pecorino Romano, to the fresh handmade pasta, to the crunchy burst of black pepper. “Oh my god, this is so good!”

As passersby streamed down the sidewalk between the restaurant and our table outside, I heard conversations in French, German, Russian, Chinese, as well as others I didn’t recognize. What a beautiful place for the world to gather.

With lunch drawing to a close, Nadia reminded language track participants that the first lesson began at two, and the remainder of the day was at leisure. Along with the couple from Oro Valley, myself and another woman set off for Accademia Europea di Firenze–about a ten minute walk from the restaurant.

During the first lesson we introduced ourselves and Deborah shared that she had lived in Tucson twice in her life, as her father was in the Air Force and stationed at Davis-Monthan. Oddly enough, the four strangers with ties to southern Arizona, also ended up in the language class.

The class had two components. One was linguistic instruction in which we learned and practiced speaking Italian. In the second, often through immersive experiences, we learned about Italian culture, politics, and current events. Our three hour lessons were roughly divided into two sessions, with different instructors, and a fifteen minute break in between. After an hour and a half of intensive and engaging class time, breaks were usually spent over a cappuccino at one of two nearby caffès.

At five, class was over and we headed back towards Stazione Unità. Somewhere along the way, I zigged and the others zagged ma, tutti bene! Even after a few short hours, the city felt at least a little familiar and I had a pretty good sense of the general direction I needed to go in. If I had gotten really lost, I had my phone. Fortunately, I didn’t need to use it and reconvened with the others who were already on the platform awaiting the next tram.

After a quick stop to drop things off, the four of us met back downstairs in search of dinner. Piazza di San Jacopino was around the corner so we headed that way knowing from the morning briefing several options were available. 

It was about six thirty, aka prime time in the US, and after getting the lay of the land, decided on Mamma Pizza Firenze. Upon entering, we were kindly told by the young couple running the place that they weren’t open for dinner yet and to come back closer to seven. At seven, they still seemed to be figuring things out and who knows how hot the ovens were, but they took pity on our apparently gaunt faces and sat us at a table out back on the patio.

Those who live in the US are so used to restaurants and shops being open during certain hours and could find this aspect of the Italian lifestyle frustrating. I found it wonderful. Partly because it means the tradition of pausing in the middle of the day to spend time with family continues on, rather than succumbing to the constant crush of mass tourism and outside expectation. Partly because it signals, in stark contrast to the American ethos, that time isn’t only valuable when spent in the pursuit of making more money. When they say seven, it may be seven fifteen. You can run your lives down to the minute, but we are not! We have more important things to see to, such as slowing down long enough to actually enjoy life, and time spent with family and friends is what truly enriches the rather short time we have on Earth.

We ordered drinks and discussed the events of the day while refreshing our brows with cold fresca towelettes. Even though the sun had set, it was still hot.

Everything on the menu looked good and after some deliberation amidst bursts of conversation, everyone made up their minds. After jotting down our desires, four hot and fresh pizzas were deposited onto the table fairly quickly. “Il migliore” didn’t disappoint, though by what measure that claim was made, wasn’t obvious. Once separate bills had been reconciled, we returned home for welcome rest after an eventful first day.