May 5: Travel to Firenze

Our last morning in Sorrento was pleasant: sunny and warm, but not too warm for schlepping our backpacks for the first time in 8 days. We’ve got good hiking packs, with good frames and lots of adjustments to keep our backs intact, but it’s still a bit of a shock having to remember to carry them and then do it. (At least we didn’t give in to force of habit and leave them in the hotel!) Sorrento’s Hotel Astoria is only about 10 minutes from the train station, so no problem getting there, but we had to wait nearly an hour for our train, having dawdled and missed the first train.)

At Napoli, we had to change train systems from the antediluvian Circumvesuviana trains to the more modern TrenItalia system. The Napoli train station is large, but it’s well signed and easy to navigate. Not so well designed from a user perspective, however. Who thought it was a good idea to have no bathrooms on the entire TrenItalia departure level? It’s possible that they’re present, but that nobody thought to put them on the map of that level or provide any signage. Either way... WTF?

Ticket sales were quick and easy. An eager if somewhat scruffy youngster approached us and started to help us use the ticket machine, presumably in hope of a tip, but one of the staffers behind the counter yelled at him and chased him away. We opted for the Frecciarossa (“red arrow”). This is one of Italy’s newish high-speed trains: think France’s TGV, but with a different accent. Once we got out of the immediate surrounds of Napoli, the driver put the pedal to the metal and we cruised along at speeds of up to 300 kph. It would take three Canadian trains adding their velocities to get that speed, and they wouldn’t stay on the tracks for more than 15 minutes. Some day we Canucks will enter the 20th century in transport terms.

Nothing special to report for the journey. We arrived in Firenze shortly before 4 PM, with plenty of time to get to the hotel, drop our bags, and have a pre-dinner stroll to get a sense of the city.

First impression: Firenze is quite amazing. Everywhere you look, there’s something old and interesting, though you may have to look past a wall of tourists to see it or screen out a Prada store leaning on a Gucci boutique to imagine it as it once was. Still... you could easily wander for a day just craning your neck upwards to see all the sights. Take, for example, the duomo about two blocks from our hotel, both in toto and in detail:
Duomo front view

Duomo detail
We strolled for a couple hours, just taking in all the visual information. It’s a bit overwhelming after spending a week primarily in small towns in southern Italy and strolling along back-country roads and dirt tracks. Firenze is The Big City, no mistake. You have to be patient to get a picture with only a few tourists in it; getting one that’s entirely unobscured takes more patience than I’m prepared to muster. Or perhaps a step ladder to rise above it all. (Wonder where one can rent a ladder?) Or perhaps even a selfie-stick so you can hold your camera above head height. The person who invents zeppelin tours of Firenze, with dirigibles cruising along 50 feet above the streets, will make a fortune. Or possibly cause traffic chaos that I’d rather not imagine.

Best t-shirts thus far: “How’d you like it if I ate you?”, from a cartoon chicken on a shirt at the vegan clothing shop, and “Who the fuck is Mick Jagger?”, on a young woman strolling towards us on Ponte Vecchio.

Speaking of which: Seen from the bridge itself, the Ponte Vecchio is actually fairly disappointing: a mass of overpriced stores to fleece the tourists. Seen from the next bridge upstream, it’s better because you can’t see all the commerce, but still no London Bridge. You be the judge:

Much more tomorrow, but we’re tired and need a good night’s sleep. Except for a bathroom rant, since it’s been a couple days since I last complained about global bathroom design. (Yes, I have a thing. Deal.) The bathroom at our new hotel was clearly shoehorned into a space too tiny for it. Fine; that’s not a catastrophe. But the shower is then shoehorned into a corner of that too small space, without so much as a lip to keep the water in. Instead, the tiles slope downwards, creating a deathtrap should you shift your feet too fast: slip, and down you go. Also, every time you turn around to wet down a dry part, you hit the tap with your shoulder or elbow, turning off the water. For special extra points, nowhere to put your soap or shampoo. And so it (the plumbing) goes.

Dinner was at Trattoria Nerone, and was mostly nothing special: good but unremarkable lasagna for my primi, tuna pizza for Shoshanna, and “beef goulash Firenze style”. Of the three, the “goulash” was the standout. Not sure what makes it Firenza style, but it was savory, tender, slightly smokey, and wholly delish, without ths scraps of gristle and fat you’d expect in a typical restaurant stew back in North America. Dessert was light and dark chocolate gelato for me and amaretto gelatto for Shoshanna.

Tomorrow's blog entry may be delayed or minimal, since we're meeting my Italian colleague and his wife for dinner and may not have time beforehand to tidy things up. So more on Saturday if not tomorrow.

May 6: Firenze and surrounds