Once I got my clothes all strewn-about in the sun to dry, headed into town to check out Grom gelato, recommended both by Mackenzie and my Lonely Planet guide, which tagged it "slow food meets gelato". You can tell this place is different from the others, as you can actually see behind a glass window them making gelato in big stainless steel drums, and all the finished product is covered up under stainless steel lids:
The gelato places in the tourist-dense spots have the gelato heaped into piles that go a foot higher than the freezer container, on display like a bunch of floozies. While I haven't tried gelato from any such vendor, I suspect that a good yardstick for measuring gelato qualtiy is: the less you can see of it, the better it probably is. I veered slightly from my chocolate and pistachio combo, but only slightly, getting the Bacio, which is chocolate with hazelnuts in it, and, well, pistachio:
Okay, I guess I still need to branch out a little bit. Sat on the steps of a church to savor my prize, and a prize it was. I seriously considered heading right back over to Grom for a couple more tastes (I had vanilla and fig in mind, under the excuse that I was expanding my horizons). But, as I began to stroll, I realized that one "coppette media" (medium cup) was enough. Spent another hour just walking along the Duomo and Oltrarno neighborhoods, doing some serious window shopping, but not venturing to buy anything. Maybe tomorrow.
Self-portrait in Chanel window (which would be way cooler if I had photo editing software):
Checked out the Piazza Santo Spirito, which my Lonely Planet calls "the headquarters of the city's alternative scene". Well, I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it is a good piazza, and there did appear to be a few young rebels enjoying some beer on the square before noon. Rock on. And the Basilica is really cool looking, especially compared to all the heavily-ornamented chiesas around here:
Got a dose of espresso (I waited a dangerously long time before applying caffeine...somehow prioritizing gelato over feeding my caffeine addiction...probably a bad idea).
art inside Caffe Ricchi:
Walked back up to my pad (I should note here that I'm probably walking a minimum of six miles a day...all in my kinda-high-heeled Dansko sandals, as my mostly-healed toe still doesn't like being crammed into my Chucks...hopefully this is ameliorating pasta and gelato consumption adequately).
passed a store just for Richard:
(they also had George Bush with Mickey Mouse ears t-shirts, but I guess those things are kinda passe these days)
Then headed to the Giardino Bobolini, a beautiful public park right near my place and adjacent to the Boboli. Planted myself in the shade to read and snooze and rest my old dogs for awhile.
Giardino:
self-portrait lounging at the giardino:
fancy villa down the street from me:
my villa (except that I live in the tiny hut behind it):
Next was a short drive over to the Chiesa di San Miniato al Monte. According to my travel guide, Miniato was an early Christian martyr who was beheaded in Florence, then walked up to this hillside location, carrying his head tucked under his arm. Rad. Building of the church began in the eleventh century, apparently on top of an even older crypt. As I got there, the sky was turning and thunderheads forming, thunder booming threateningly (maybe an "atheist approaching" alert?), which made for a dramatic scene. It never did rain, though, and the wind blew the thunderheads yonder. I decided to venture into the church, something I rarely do, as I just kinda feel like a trespasser. But I was glad I did, as the interior was truly stunning, and as church-visitors go I was surely among the least offensive, as plenty of tourists were milling about loudly, talking on their cell phones and taking flash photos. At 5:30, the monks arrived down in the crypt and did their evening Gregorian chant. It was spooky and beautiful -- just 3 monks chanting away. It was kinda cute, though, that they appeared to have a little Casio-type electric keyboard for getting the pitch right as they changed chants.
Facade of San Miniato:
views from San Miniato:
inside:
After the chiesa, I walked back into town, wandering over to the San Marco neighborhood, just to see if there was an off-chance of a concert at the Teatro della Pergola, which apparently is a great spot for chamber music concerts. Naturally, it had nothing going on, which is true of many places in Florence in August (which I knew perfectly well when I booked my trip [which aligned with the cancelled chamber music program in Cortona]). So I wandered around for awhile, eventually landing back at the Piazza Santo Spirito, which was lively with dining activity. I planted myself at an outdoor table at the Ristorante Ricchi, where they immediately brought me an aperitif of house white wine with a dash of cassis:
Refreshing! I had an esquisite meal of tuna tartare with mango (the color of the tuna looks a little funny because it is browned with balsamic -- rest assured it was ultra-fresh and delicious)...
then a main dish of risotto with squid ink and calamari (not the most photogenic of dishes, but oh-so-good).
And then I said goodnight to the piazza and trucked up the hill to my pad, where I proceeded to sleep for nearly 12 hours. Mmmm...vacation.
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