In which all marble sculptures forget their underpants

They tell me that of the many cities my great-grandmother Nana traipsed as a saucy divorcé, Florence was her favorite. And so, while I have no reason to think that Nana and I had similar tastes by any means, I traveled there this weekend with high hopes.

Chefs in training, about to crank out some pasta

While I did feel stirred by the dynamic marble statues of the Loggia dei Lanzi, appreciate seeing Botticelli’s Birth of Venus in person, and have my breath taken away by the expansive Chianti vineyards outside the city, I must admit being slightly underwhelmed by Florence.

 

Paper: now that's my kind of shop.

I could see my great –grandmother relishing in the fine leather purses and ahh-ing over diamond crusted broaches in the music box jewelry shops along the Ponte Vecchio. I could see her feeling at home amongst the throngs of bag-laden tourists. I could see her reflection in a small store on Via dei Lamberti trying on gloves, looking like a black and white movie star as she always did in old photographs, smiling at a clerk as she bartered him down to nothing.

A woman at a bar in Florence asked me if I wanted a free make over. I didn't, but I ended up looking like this anyway. This is right before I washed it off in the sink.

Personally, the fancy merchandise left me unmoved. I have never been much of a shopper. I did buy shoes in Florence, but Nana would have frowned on them I’m sure, being cheap and purchased out of necessity. “You don’t want those,” she’d say, her loud Cockney accent breaking against the humid air. “We’ll get you those Italian leather boots with the heels and you’ll be smashing!”

 

My crazy new kicks.

Our first night in Florence, we cooked a four course meal with the help of a professional chef. We made eggplant caprese, fettuccini, potato ravioli, and pannecotta. Normally I’m not a big pasta person (sacrilege, I know) but something about being ravenously hungry and personally invested made this meal pretty darn delicious.

 

Eggplant caprese

The best part of the weekend by far, however, was our trek out to Castello di Verrazzano for a vineyard tour and wine tasting. Seriously, everywhere you looked: a postcard. There were cherry trees you could reach up and grab fruit from, oak barrels so big they could hold 9,000 bottles of wine, and basically unlimited Chianti reserve. Absolute heaven.

Chianti vineyard

All in all, I am glad I have seen Florence, but I more glad to be back “home” now in Tuscania. Time to hit the books though… I’ve got a quiz on A Room with a View tomorrow.