Day 4...

Thursday, April 7, 2011
Venice, Italy - Firenze. (I love the fact Firenze is in autocorrect)

Notorious for being early, I have realized I "inherited" this trait from my mother.  We had to catch a 10:40 am train... So we rose early and munched on our usual breakfast, coffee quickly moving through my veins.  We had to walk to the vapperetto, the water taxi which would take us to the train station.  Wheeling our bags through the tiny alleys, avoiding the dog sh*t and vendors unveiing their carts for the day, we pulled and pushed ourselves and our belongings to platform 52, a floating bus stop surprisingly lovely foe public transport.  The boat arrived, beautiful uniformed man ushering us on, his broken English urging mom and I towards the back with our bulky suitcases.  I quickly obliged, excited to feel the spray of the ocean and the final breeze of Venice on my face.  Mom was not as happy bout the open air.  I was, in usual fashion, trying to control the scene.  I imagine my schtick gets old...but I cannot handle the snail's pace.  It infuriates me.  We successfully deboarded - and the "hurry up and wait" game began.  No benches, no cafe, the train station in Venice is a far cry from pdx's beautiful Union Station.  We stood, crane- necked, for a solid 45 min, hoping the departure screen would soon update train 9504 to Roma.  hurry.  Up.  And.  Wait.  The ride in first class was better than I expected - easy and clean, despite mom's clunky bag hanging out in the aisle.  In just over two hours we arrived in Florence!  After repeating the name of our hotel 15 times to the cabby (Il Guelfo Bianco) we were on our way!  First thought...who taught these people to drive?!  Answer...no one.  They just wing it, obviously.  We checked into our room (free wifi!) and after unpacking, we decided to wander.  I am pretty sure it was love at first sight.  There are many special nuances to Florence - what struck me first was the crazy juxtaposition between old and new.  A young, modern girl, for instance, talking on Her iPhone 4, smoking, chaining her vespa to a 500 year cathedral post - crazy interwoven history and modern day.  Our hotel is very centrally located, just about a 5 minute walk down to the infamous Duomo.  The centuries old cathedral with Brunnelleschi's famous dome has always captivated me, art history texts piquing my interest years ago.  In person, Ste. Marias is massive, looming, eerie, and beautiful.  The massive church is the third largest in the world and the facade is extremely intricate.  Inside, however, is much more simplistic, with a bone-chilling breeze rambling through the nave.  Hundreds of tourists crane their necks to see the frescoed dome's interior, silently shuffling through the landmark.  We spent some time admiring the cathedral before heading back Into the sunshine.  While peak tourist season has yet to decend upon Italia, there are hoards of school children in massive packs.  Think groups of 50+ high schoolers, hormones raging, pawing at each other while traveling through historic monuments.  Annoying.  Mom and I wondered and wandered, exploring the numerous piazzas, crossing the famous Ponte Vecchio, winding up and down the very Parisian feeling streets, lined with designer labels.  I drug poor mom behind me, until she couldn't move anymore, demanding we stop and sit on a stoop for a good while.  While I appreciate my mother's aging pains, feet problems, knee problems, neck problems...I need to practice more patience.  I know I do.
We ate at --- at the recommendation of the hotel.  Directly upon sitting down at the table, a small two top on the front patio, our waiter asked what hotel we were staying at - an instant indication the joint is not recommended on culinary merit but rather on the kickbacks given to referring concierges.  Sigh.  We split a caprese salad (fine, typical, nothing special) and I had spaghetti-like noodles with shaved black truffles, i found nothing wrong with the dish - and looking back on it it really was better than I gave it credit for at the time.  Mom had risotto with asparagus - it tasted like gummy rice mixed with campbell's cream of asparagus soup.  A greasy, mustachioed middle aged man continually tried to make conversation with us (me).  He was the proprietor of Dante's Leather Factory, a crusty, plasticy Wilson's Leather type store.  Visiting America often, Dante's has trunk shows in cities like Boston and Vegas.  He would like portland to be next on the list.  Gross.  An after dinner gelato and we headed back towards the hotel.