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| The Basilica and Duomo |
Florence: food, wine, history, and shopping, what more can you ask for? I spent this past weekend in Tuscany, what an amazing place! I arrived Friday afternoon, checked into the hostel and hit the ground running, well more like fast walking let’s not get crazy. First stop, the Duomo and it’s 463 steps to the top. I was glad to get the stair-master session in prior to dinner. The view from the top is magnificent and worth every euro, eight in total, despite the unavoidable perspiration. After the Duomo, I wandered down the streets of Florence, soaking up the southern-Italian culture that Trieste is lacking.
Dinnertime came quickly and Jourdan, my travel partner, and I went to 4Leoni (Four Lions), recommended by her friend Anna. As we sat down I noticed pictures on the wall of Goldie Hawn, Kurt Russell, Sting, and Dustin Hoffman… I knew we were in the right place; if it’s good enough for Goldie it’s good enough for me. This restaurant has the most amazing pasta I have ever eaten, fioccheti di pera (stuffed pasta with pear and cheese), delizioso! If you go to Florence, I require that go eat this pasta! We finished dinner and were walking back to the hostel when we heard the voice of an angel! The angel turned out to be an Irish street performer, James O’Reily, serenading the crowd with Coldplay and Damien Rice. As we sat and listened I scanned the crowd, everywhere I looked all I saw were couples and enough “amore” to make any single girl nauseous.
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| Boboli Gardens |
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| A lot of Chianti |
The highlight of my time in Tuscany was a visit to the Chianti region and a wine tasting at Castello del Trebbio, a 900-year-old castle once used by the Pazzi to plot the assassination of Lorenzo de’Medici, really interesting history but I won’t bore you with it here. At this castle they work miracles to create the best Chianti and extra-virgin olive oil that has ever touched my lips. They live by a saying that has become my new mantra; “the oil is good for the heart, but the wine feeds the soul.”
Unfortunately, my time under the Tuscan sun came to an end and it was back to Trieste with a little remembrance of home in hand, a McDonald’s happy meal. But never fear my life is seldom dull. Monday I went back to the police station for my fourth visit, and third attempt at my visa. I took my ticket and waited two hours to be told that I had to come back on Tuesday to meet with the Inspector. However, the officer that met with me remembered Jourdan and I from our previous visit when we attempted to communicate with phrases Jourdan looked up, and he laughed at us. At least he has fond memories. I went home and prepared my arsenal of documents and returned to the station this morning. After two more hours I left, sans visa, with two options; show the police 2,700 euro in cash or get an official bank declaration of funds by the end of the month… clearly they don’t want me to stay in there country. Who knows maybe my next post will be about getting deported?
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| Central Market |
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