Roma, not just a kind of tomato

The Metro was crowded.  Rome has two lines, and one of them terminates at the Coliseum. I thought it was interesting that there is also a Metro line in Madrid that terminates at the bullring. Both are arenas for entertainment. As the crowd emerged from the station into the morning sun the ancient structure was immediately across the street. Like many old buildings or structures it is partially shrouded with scaffolding. Old structures need maintenance, especially if they are major tourist attractions. The crowd, of which we were a part, crossed the street and headed toward the Coliseum with a few going to the right toward the Roman Forum.  We were not looking forward to another crowded attraction.  The lines were long but moved quickly.  I paid at the credit card line, and it seemed to move a little faster. To say that the Coliseum is a massive stone structure seemed to be an understatement. Thousands of tons of carved stone are held together with concrete and iron straps to produce the arena with a seating capacity of 80,000. Construction began in the first century with initial funding coming from the sacking of Jerusalem. In ancient times we would have received a ticket on a pottery shard indicating our seat. Of course there was a hierarchy in seating. We would have probably held tickets for the nosebleed section. The layout of aisles and stairways is extremely efficient. We took the elevator to one of the upper levels and from there could view the interior where the events would have taken place. Recreations of famous battles of land and sea would have taken place here as well as gladiator contests. There were elevators to bring animals and men up to the arena surface. A portion of is is restored  now. As we watched I mentioned to Claudette, "Can you imagine what it was like with the wild animals tearing Christians to shreds?"

"Actually, there is no evidence that  ever happened," she informed me.

"And Nero never doused them with oil and used 'em for torches?" I retorted.

"I don't know about that.  But as a movie fan, you know what I think of?" she asked.

"I'll bet you're going to tell me," I responded.

"That would be Russell Crowe standing there with sword and shield saying, ' My name is Gladiator!'"

The Coliseum also had a canopy originally, but no more. We walked around a bit.  Although there were many  tourists the attraction is so big that very few areas were crowded.

After leaving the Coliseum we walked a few hundred yards to the Roman Forum.  This was the center of the Roman Empire which spread from the British Isles to Turkey and Egypt. Unfortunately, Rome is unlike Roman cities built in conquered lands.  Those cities tend to be well organized, while Rome is rather helter-skelter.  Nowhere is this more evident than at the Forum. There are many ruins here but little open space unlike Ephesus, for instance, with its large open plazas. There are many facades of temples and government buildings. One facade has columns of rare purple marble. This stone was imported from Egypt.  As we walked around the ruins, Claudette said to me, "Let's see the House of the Vestal Virgins."

"Okay," I said, having never heard of a vestal virgin except in Procol Harum's A Whiter Shade of Pale and that was back in the sixties. "What's a vestal virgin anyway?"

"Well, let me tell you," she said, as we looked at the ruins of a structure which had been three stories high with a reflection pool surrounded by statues. "The Vestal Virgins were priestesses whose primary duty was to keep the eternal flame in the Temple of Vesta burning. They were selected between the ages of 6 and 10 for duty and were Vestal Virgins for thirty years. Upon keeping their vows they could retire with a pension. If they did not keep their vows they were executed."

"Sounds kinda like nuns," I mused.

"The advent of Christianity dissolved the order  of the Vestal Virgins," she added.
We continued to walk among the ruins, listening to the tour guide we had recorded on our cell phones.  It was very interesting though crowded.

We ate at the restaurant near the Metro station al fresco, of course, before returning to our hotel. It had been an interesting day at two of the most popular tourist destinations in the world.

"Arrivederci Roma"

Links: Dino sings about Rome  The greatest sword and sandal movie ever.

Sorrento, Capri and the Amalfi Coast

Shells for sale in the Amalfi market.

"Torna a Sorrento", I could almost hear Dean Martin or Pavarotti or Meatloaf singing as the crowded commuter train sped toward the coast. Yes, we were on our way to Sorrento. We had changed trains in Naples. Since there was a huge rush hour crowd, we had to wait for a second train.   (They run about every half hour.) We were stuffed in the coaches almost as tight as a Tokyo subway. The old train with gaudy graffiti screeched and rattled over the tracks at seemingly breakneck speed. There were other travelers like us on the train.  A young English mom tried to shield her young daughter's eyes from a lesbian couple very much into each other. Chinese tourists were huddled together.  The beggar

played an accordion with a cup and a picture of an invalid child attached to the instrument. The train rattled on stopping frequently. We weren't concerned about missing our stop... Sorrento was at the end of the line.

It was dark when we reached our destination.  We inadvertently took a wrong turn after exiting the train, but a friendly Italian came to our rescue. She said the she had seen us walk by her shop several times and thought maybe we needed her help. She was quite perceptive. Casa Astarita was about ten blocks from the train station and not easy to find.  Eventually we found Corsa Italia, the broad avenue on which our bed and breakfast was located.  In the middle of what appeared to be a stone wall about twenty feet wide were two weathered heavy oak doors.  There was a small sign indicating the name of the bed and breakfast, Casa Astarita, on the right side of the doors. One door was open.  Inside were some motorscooters and a bicycle. At the rear of the covered area was a stairway to the upper levels. Our host met us and led us as the stairway traversed across the rear past three landings before reaching the entrance to the bed and breakfast. There was a beautiful grotto on one of the landings. There was no doubt that Italy is a Catholic country. Our lodgings were on the top floor. There was a nice common area beside the breakfast room near our bedroom. I think there were only three guest rooms. Our room was big with a queen size bed.  Quickly we unpacked toiletries and hung some clothes in the wardrobe. We were hungry and were in desperate need  of food. Back on the street we noticed that we were only a few feet from The English Pub. Decidedly, it was a good time for fish and chips. This was to be the worst meal we had in Italy. The fish was greasy, and the chips were soggy. Ugh! The only good thing was that we met some nice folks from Canada who were familiar with our fair city of Charleston. A bit of window shopping and it was time to hit the sack.

Great breakfast. There was a large selection of fruit, pastries, meats, and cheeses as well as a variety of jellies and preserves. Juice and everybody's favorite, cappuccino, we available too.
Claudette enjoyed one of her favorites, croissants with Nutella. We met the other house guests. There was a French family, Luc Buchard, Marie, and their two boys. It was interesting to talk with them. They were completely unlike the French we met at the bed and breakfast in Cody, Wyoming, who only spoke among themselves in French but spoke with the host in English.  Luc and his family told us of their home near Paris and about the boys' school work. According to Marie, French students must decide if they wish to learn English or German for a second language. The boys enjoyed practicing their English skills. The Canadians we had met at The English Pub were house guests as well. With some table guests it's sometimes difficult to leave breakfasst. We discussed our destinations for the day.  The Buchard family was going to Capri while the Canadians and my wife and I were going to Pompeii. Breakfasts like this are representative of what we like about bed and breakfasts.

Since I have written about Pompeii in another post I will not dwell on it here. I will say that it was very interesting and well worth the effort to see the ruins of the ancient city.

We returned to Sorrento fro Pompeii exhausted and hungry. Inn Bufalito satisfied our hunger with traditional cuisine of the Campania Region.  This restaurant had been recommended by our guide book and lived up to its accolades. After a gelato from a small store on Vico I Fuoro we were ready for bed.

Tuesday morning did not come early for us.  After another great breakfast we had to catch up on email. I had some drawings to complete, and Claudette had to update her journal. Slowly we walked past the church and many shops across Piazza Tasso to the bus station. We were taking the bus to Amalfi. This town is on the coast and the scenic highway follows the coastline. There was a man at a folding table in front of the bus station selling tickets. After purchasing our tickets we climbed aboard the shiny new forty-five foot bus. When we had seemed to have waited forever and a day the bus was full. The driver climbed aboard, took his seat and we began our trip. The bus soon escaped the confines of the city, and drove across the peninsula from the Bay of Naples and  began to follow the coastline to the Bay of Salerno. Much of the road (SS163) which follows alongside the mountains joining the sea. Along the way are small plots of land being farmed and many citrus orchards.

The road to Amafli.

Along the two lane road there are many switchbacks. Two busses cannot meet on this part of the road; one must yield. We also stopped occasionally to pick up passengers. It was a very harrowing trip as we passed through small villages, seemingly miraculously attached to near vertical mountains. It is an exciting trip which reminded me of the road to Hana on the island of Maui. But in Italy I did not see rocks falling several hundred feet into the sea as we dislodged them in passing.  Upon reaching Amalfi the bus stopped, and we all exited. There were cafes and shops to relieve the weary tourist of his euros and a great overlook of the Bay of Salerno. The return to Sorrento was by the same route with the same stunning vistas. It is a very interesting and exciting twenty miles.

Upon our return to Sorrento we got a quick bite to eat and visited a grocery store.  It has been our practice to shop in a grocery in every country we've visited.  These grocery stores represent the local culture.  This is where regular people buy their food and we find it quite an adventure to shop for food. The butcher was quick to pick-up on the fact that we wanted sausages and cheese. He sliced them the way we wanted. After getting meat and cheese we wanted some fruit. There were apples, oranges, lemons, and other fruits in baskets on a table with a scale. But where was the price? I noticed that each basket had a different number.  I knew that everything is sold by the kilo, and I had to weigh everything. (a kilogram is about two pounds.) When I placed two apples on the scale I saw that if I put the basket number in the keypad a ticket was printed out with the price of my apples. It had a sticky back so it stuck to the the plastic bag with the apples inside. Pretty cool! After finding some bread we checked out.

At breakfast Wednesday morning we found out from one of the breakfast guests that we could catch the boat to Capri behind Piazza Tasso. There was an open gate through which we walked

Stairway to the street.

onto a small landing at street level. Stairways zig-zagged vertically to the street a hundred feet below leading to the boat landing. Of course we had to wait about one half hour for the boat then went on a fast boat ride to the island of Capri. Vendors plied their trades up and down the aisles on the boat. We were approached by an older Italian man announcing, "I'ma Luigi.  I giva you a tour of the island.  Only twenty euros!" We exchanged glances and coughed up the forty euros. Luigi looked like he had been a boxer in his youth, still well muscled after some seven plus decades. There were deep set very dark eyes under bushy white eyebrows which matched his wavy white hair. His mouth had a perpetual smile and you could get a glimpse of his pearly whites. He quickly took our money and stuck a small round blue sticker on our shirts. "I see you ona the dock," he said as he adjusted the knot in the sleeves of the sweater around his neck as he walked away. I'm sure I heard a collective sigh from every blue-haired lady tourist on the boat. But Claudette and I  looked at each other questioning if we had just been hoodwinked.

The boat docked at Capri, which is the name of one of the cities on the island. The harbor was picture perfect.  There were colorful fishing boats bobbing in the beautiful blue water which had a

Harbor at Capri.

sparkle from the brilliant Mediterranean sun. And sure enough, Luigi was there scurrying around like a mother hen gathering up her chicks.  He found us with round blue stickers and led us to a minibus. There were about twenty of us aboard. As it began to move Luigi announced that we were his means of his livelihood and that he was grateful for our joining him on this tour of his home.

The little bus slowly moved up the mountains as Luigi described the landscape we passed. There were vineyards, orchards, and small farms.  The soil appeared to be very rocky. All tilled soil as well as untilled land was sloping. I don't believe there was a flat place on the island. After many switchbacks of the mountain road we reached Anacapri, the other city on the island. It is obviously a tourist destination with all the shops that beckon tourists.  Luigi led us to one such shop to sample lemoncello and chocolate. The former is a lemon liqueur indigenous to the southwestern coast of Italy. Purist say that it can only be made from a particular variety of lemons grown in that area. Basically it is lemon zest or peel without pith steeped in grain alcohol and mixed with a simple syrup. Each producer has their own recipe. It resembles liquid fire when swallowed. However, taking a bite of chocolate with it produces a divine sensation that I'm afraid cannot be adequately described with the English language.  After this even Luigi led us to the chairlift which at its zenith would provide one with an unprecedented panoramic view of the island. But not this one. I have a strong preference to keep my feet firmly planted on terra firma.  Claudette and I strode about a bit and enjoyed the views of Capri far below. We had a cappuccino under an olive tree at a small piazza and enjoyed people watching. On the way back

A street in Anacapri.

Sampling lemoncello.

we stopped by the main shopping district for the shoppers in our group. On the way down the mountains to the marina to catch the boat back to Sorrento Luigi burst into song.  His rich baritone voice filled the small bus with "Arrivederci Capri" as he substituted Capri for Roma in the famous song. And the aforementioned blue-haired tourists ladies swooned.

It was an uneventful trip back to Sorrento  and after window shopping a bit we had a quiet dinner at Parrucchiano near our lodgings.  The food and service was excellent.  I had wanted to eat some polenta while in Italy and had not found it on the menu until Sorrento.  I had fried polenta as a side dish. It was great very similar to fried grits in the southern United States. This restaurant was unusual as well. It would have probably served two hundred people. Upstairs we were surrounded by a garden which must have been on the rooftops. Such a great way to finish off our delightful stay on the Italian coast. The next day would find us on a train bound for Rome.  I would be explaining to an Englishman that the biscuits and gravy referred to by a man from Montana did not include the kind of biscuits he was familiar with in England.

Capri from above.

Siena

The train from Florence stopped in Siena a little while after lunchtime. On the street side of the railroad station were taxi cabs. We picked the nearest one, a small Citroen. The driver seemed to be asleep, but a rap on the window elicited signs of life. We asked if he was for hire, and he answered that he was. After we gave him the address, he just stood there. When  Claudette began to put her bag inside the cab he got quite upset at her action saying that he was supposed to do that. Our drive to the Alle Due Porte bed and breakfast was brisk. Like most of cities in Tuscany, Siena is in the hills. Our lodging was at the top of a narrow street. Many streets in Italy don't have sidewalks. There is a good reason for that; there is no space for sidewalks. There was just enough space to get the bags from the back of the cab to the Alle Due Porte entrance. The entry was locked, although the owner had assured us he would be there. What to do now? Since we could not get into our room, lunch seemed a good idea since we had had none.

Down the hill from our lodgings was a nice little restaurant.  We were tired and were carrying our bags, but the smile of a friendly waitress was very welcome and made us feel a bit better. I had the bread soup. It was delicious peasant fare. Sometimes the Italians can do magic with food. A glass of house wine helped digestion. Great lunch. After our meal it was a few hundred yards back up the  hill to the bed and breakfast. The owner had now made an appearance, and he  took care of checking us in and showing us to our room. It was a nice room with a queen size bed and a nice view of the street below. There were hand hewn beams overhead, and I'm certain it was a medieval building. Outside our door was a colorful breakfast area.

We wanted to see main piazza, Piazza del Campo, which according to the travel writer, Rick Steves, is called the best in all of Italy.  I entered the name of the piazza into the navigation app of my cellphone. Walking directions appeared instantly on the screen, and we were off. It was a short walk.  Downhill, of course. We passed a number of shops on the way as automobiles, trucks, and scooters sped by. I think that Italian vehicles operate only at full throttle or stopped.  One of the shops we passed was a shop selling "horror" memorabilia.  I am not a fan of that genre of film, but it was an interesting shop particularly the cage with the partially decomposed corpse. A quick walk through a shadowy alley and we were on the piazza.

Piazza del Campo is shaped like a huge sea shell.  The perimeter was filled with shops for two thirds of the way and the balance with government buildings and a clock tower. We began to walk across the piazza, which was about a quarter mile. There were quite a few people walking about and reclining on the piazza. It was rather interesting to see people lying on the inclined stone surface. Siena was founded around 900 B.C. Legend has it that the city was actually founded by a son of Remus, one of the wolf-suckled infants that founded Rome. I sat and did a few sketches, while Claudette sought the nearest gelato stand. We walked along enjoying our gelato and watching the people enjoying the afternoon. Near the center of the top of the piazza is an ornate rectangular fountain, Fonte Gaia. (The "Happy Fountain" was constructed in 1414-19.) Three sides of the Fonte Gaia have bas-relief carvings depicting Christian and secular iconography. The bubbling water made such a comforting sound and a drinking fountain for numerous pigeons. The three and four-year-olds provided great entertainment in their vain efforts to capture the numerous rats of the air. There were children chasing pigeons. Children chasing dogs. Children chasing children. Mommies chasing children. Just like in the park at home. As we walked the perimeter of the Palio di Siena you could almost hear the echo of hoofbeats. Races are held twice a year, and the riders of the ten horses ride bareback around the Campo three times in about three minutes. These events fill the Piazza del Campo with thousands of cheering fans.

As we continued our walk around the piazza people watching, the sound  of the ubiquitous accordion drifted through the garlic tinged air. Cooking was taking place in the nearby eateries.We left the piazza and slowly walked up Via Stalloreggi toward our bed and breakfast as night approached. 

Along the way we saw a woman enjoying a sandwich with a glass of wine in front of a butcher shop.  "Wouldn't it be nice to pick up some picnic goodies?" Claudette asked.

"Why not," I answered as we entered the shop.

Like most shops it was small and very crowded. It has been our custom to do some "picnicing" in our travels. Not only does it cut the costs of meals, but a restaurant is not necessary. We had also had a late lunch and weren't planning on a big dinner. There were quite a few customers in the shop, so we had to wait for service. The rotund butcher was very busy. There seemed to be a great selection of cheeses and sausages.  Prosciutto is the Italian version of cured ham. The Spaniards have jamon and we Americans have simply cured ham.  All use salt as the primary desiccant, or the method for removing moisture from the meat. One of the major differences in the curing process is that American cured hams are not washed after a few months in salt.  The Spaniards maintain that jamon comes from free range acorn-fed hogs of a certain breed.  The Italian and Spanish hams are extremely delicious and served uncooked. American salt cured hams should be cooked. Both Italian and Spanish hams are cut, i. e. sliced, with the grain, while the American hams are cut across the grain. Meat sliced across the grain is easier to chew. There was such a variety of  food in the shop that I could not resist the impulse to record an image for posterity's sake. However, before my cellphone could capture the image I heard,

"No photo! No photo!" in heavily accented English. It was the butcher from behind the counter, as he pointed to a small sign with an image of a camera with a diagonal line through it. And, he was pointing at it with an extremely sharp looking carving knife!  I obliged and asked why. To the best of my understanding, (My Italian leaves a lot to be desired.) my taking photographs was the equivalent of stealing trade secrets. Finally, it was our turn at the counter to select our purchases. As we were looking at the various meats and cheeses there was a crash from the outside of the shop. It seemed that the woman we had seen eating outside the shop had dropped her wineglass, and it had shattered on the stone pavement. She came into the shop holding only the stem of the glass mumbling what sounded like an apology in Italian. We decided that she had probably had too much wine by the way she navigated her way through the crowded shop. I fully expected an explosion of Italian from the butcher, but he merely shrugged. My wife and I finally decided on some sausage and two varieties of cheese before leaving the shop.

The next morning we were up early. As usual we had packed the night before and were waiting when breakfast was served. Breakfast was an hour later than we expected, but we found out later that there had been a time change, like the American Daylight Saving Time, and we had not reset out timepieces. Breakfast was great; one of the best, if not the best we had while in Italy. After breakfast our host called a cab for us, and we were on our way.

Pompeii With Two Eyes

I like ruins.  You know, the leftovers from what once was something. I have a particular affinity for the ruins  of cities.  They always pique my curiosity and imagination. One such city is Pompeii in southern Italy. It is now a World Heritage Site with 2.6 million visitors per year. Recently we visited it.

The train from Sorrento was crowded, but not as crowded as the previous day's five o'clock train from Naples to Sorrento.   Pompeii is one of the many stops between Sorrento and Naples. The entrance to the attraction was also very crowded, but we bought our tickets and followed the crowds through the gates of the city. Pompeii was a Roman city of the first century A.D. with some 20,000 residents. The city had a gymnasium, two theaters, laundries, restaurants, a mill, an amphitheater, and the usual shops and dwellings. While there are a number of Roman cities which exist as ruins Pompeii is unique. The city was buried under the volcanic ash of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D. The ash from Vesuvius simply covered the city, snuffing out all life. Because of the method of destruction some unique features are displayed. For example, all life buried by ash decomposed over time leaving a negative image or recess in the solidified ash. That fact made it possible to fill these voids with plaster and create an exact image of the living thing whether man or beast. It is eerie looking at them and realizing that these are the exact plaster replicas of the living on that fateful day in 79 A.D. Pompeii was a large city with all the infrastructure of modern cities. The paved streets have stepping stones across them so pedestrians would not have to step on the waste water and sewage in the streets. The city's water was supplied by viaduct and distributed via lead pipes.  I wonder about the instances of lead poisoning with lead pipes.  The distribution system insured that critical needs were met first when the water supply was low. There is a great display of Roman plumbing systems at the museum at Pont du Gard, France.  Another fascinating thing was the shops for selling food on the street. The counter tops had recessed cut-outs for cooking pots.  There are very few buildings with roofs in the ruins of Pompeii, but the public bath has a roof. In many ways the procedure at the baths is similar to Japanese style.  The pool of hot water is not for bathing but for soaking. These waters were usually heavily laden with minerals. The bath in Pompeii is in a vaulted structure lavishly decorated. There are several rooms for bathing, changing clothes, and soaking. I did not see the facility for heating the water, but it may have been heated geothermally like the bath waters in Bath, England. All

structures in the ruins have numbers which correspond to captions on the map you get at the entrance. There are temples to various gods and a forum for the local government. Several private homes, or rather what is left of them, depict the architecture of the era. It seemed that each had a formal entryway leading to a courtyard with various rooms around the perimeter. On many the ancient frescoes still adorned the walls. There were storage rooms, rooms for preparing food, and dining rooms. One thing noticeably absent was a toilet. I'm sure there were public toilets available in the city.  We have seen Roman toilets in Vaison de la Romaine, France and Ephesus, Turkey.  Mosaics were the common decoration along with frescos.  In the house of the Faun there is a mosaic of the Battle of Issus which was between Alexander the Great and Darius, King of Persia.  This large work of art is on the floor and measures almost nine feet by seventeen feet. This particular house even had a private bath indicating the wealth of its owner.

We ventured along  the ancient street and stopped in front of a house that had a large number of female tourists peering inside. I heard some feminine giggles.

"I wonder what's that's about?" I said.

"I'll get closer," said Claudette as she made her war way through the group of women four deep. "You won't believe this!" she exclaimed.

I managed to get through the crowd as it dispersed and joined her at the rail which prohibited entry into the ruins of the house. She was right. I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it. In the foyer of the house was a wall painting which measured about two feet in height.  It was of a man  in period dress. Visible below the hem of his short robe was his large penis.

"Can you believe that?" she asked.

"Somebody had an active imagination!" I said.

"Or did they?"she added with wink.

"It's about fertility rites, or so it says in the guide book," I said in an effort to have the last word.
Actually, paintings considered pornographic by some were fairly common in the city.

The most fascinating building for me was the mill and bakery. In industrial parlance it would be referred to as vertical integration.  Grain, probably wheat, was ground into flour and then baked into bread at the some location. The millstones were different from anything I had seen before. I was familiar with the flat round mill stones. Grain is introduced between the two stones. One of the stones is stationary, while the other moves. As the grain moves from the center of the stone to the outer edge it is ground into flour.

Falling water is the most common source of power.  But these grindstones were conical, with the stationary stone fitting inside another stone thereby creating the grinding surface. The power source was either human or animal. At this location in Pompeii there were four grinding and milling stone installations.  Due to the location I believe they were operated by human power, probably slave labor. This was the first mill I had seen, although I had seen other Roman mill stones before.

Another interesting fact I discovered was the construction methods of columns. There were columns carved from a solid piece of stone. (The most valuable were those carved from the purple marble of Egypt.) The most common were the brick columns covered with  a mixture of marble dust and plaster. Some were carved from sections of marble and stacked on top of each other. Others were constructed from a custom molded brick which produced a fluted column. The Romans were very ingenious engineers which is witnessed by the longevity of some of their structures.

It was a beautiful sunny day in southern Italy as we wandered around the ruins.  We were listening to walking tours narrated by Rick Steves we had downloaded to our cell phones.  This

was very helpful and informative. However, portions of the site are frequently closed for additional archaeological exploration or repairs. Although many of the relics are in the museum in Naples there is still plenty to see in this large World Heritage Site. We opted not to see the amphitheater.  We had seen several of them elsewhere.

It was a good day at the ruins of Pompeii, but sometimes it was difficult walking on the stone streets where Vesuvius loomed. We took the train back to Sorrento where we enjoyed a great evening meal.

Note: The modern city of Pompeii is spelled Pompei.

Florence, not of the Pee Dee.

Outside Hotel Lorena, Florence.

Of all the cities in Italy, I prefer Florence. I'm not exactly sure of the reason. However, I can relate our recent visit there. It was after dark when we made our way from the train station along unfamiliar streets to our hotel. We had been on trains most of the day. We had left Venice in the early morning and got off in Rimini to visit the mountain-top country of San Marino. From Rimini we traveled to Bologna and changed trains to get to Florence. In the evening there were hundreds of vendors set up on a piazza enroute to our hotel. Each vendor occupied about a ten square foot area with a mobile structure and display racks of merchandise. This included leather goods, textiles, ceramics, and various bric-a-brac, much of it intended for the tourist. Several vendors were helpful in directing us to the street we needed to find.

Hotel Lorena, like many in Europe, was on the second floor with the ground level, or first floor, occupied by shops and restaurants. Incidentally, the second floor is referred to as the first floor, while the ground floor has no number designation. There was an elevator, but we did not find it initially. Soon we had unpacked.  Our room overlooked the street, Piazza di Madonna degli Aldobrandini, and the Medici Chapel. After a quick chat with the desk clerk we ventured into the street to find some food and explore a bit. We were surprised that the vendors were packing up and moving their mobile shops  from the piazza. Soon the piazza was filled with people walking about enjoying the warm Italian evening. We got a quick bite of food and found a gelato shop near by. There was not much exploring because we were tired and wanted to turn in early.  Back in our hotel the closed shutters and windows muffled the street noise and music of the wandering accordion player allowing for a good nights sleep. The shared bath was always empty.

Breakfast at the hotel was the usual continental style, with cappuccino of course. Claudette and I were the only non-Asians in the breakfast area except for the server. I believe they were Chinese. I'm not very adept at determining the nationalities of Asians, but I'm getting better. One of the attractions we wanted to see in the city was Michelangelo's David. The sculptor was only twenty-

In the Medici palace.

six years old when he carved the seventeen foot tall statue of the Biblical hero from Carrara marble. Michelangelo (1465-1574) considered himself a resident of Florence and the ruling family, the Medici, were his patrons. There was a long line at the entrance to the Accademia Gallery, but it moved quickly.  No photos were allowed. As you enter the main salon David is at the end in its place of honor. It is impressive. On either side of the gallery leading up to the Michelangelo masterpiece are the "Prisoners". These are statues or figures in their rough incomplete stage.  Michelangelo is reported to have said that the image was inherent in the stone and that he simply released it.  The "Prisoners" illustrate this, as they seem to emerge from the stone. Housed in the same gallery is also a collection of musical instruments and other works of art.

After leaving the Accademia Gallery we found the Medici Palace on Via del Pucci. It is now called Palazzo Medici Riccardi, because the Riccardi family once owned it. We wandered the halls of the Medici Palace.  Yes, it was posh; not exactly Versailles, but then... there is only one Versailles. Fortunately, there were very few tourists. There were great rooms with many tapestries, and the customary vaulted ceilings were highly decorated. I particularly liked the Luca Giordano Hall. In addition to a beautifully painted vaulted ceiling, the mirrored walls were painted as well.  The Medici practically invented the banking industry. As great patrons of the arts they left their mark on the city of Florence.

The Doors of Paradise.

You could see your reflection between cherubs and such. The effect was awesome.  This was the home of Lorenzo the Magnificent; yes, the same one depicted in the television series, da Vinci's Demons.