Thanksgiving in Florence
Several months ago I received a welcome piece of information from my good friend Kelly Hill. Her sister, Nikki, was going to spend the fall quarter studying in Florence, so she and her parents had decided to hop on a plane to Italy and have an Italian Thanksgiving! As I was going to be in Paris, I was invited to swing on down and say hello.
Now for those of you that don’t know Kelly Hill, she’s one of the sweetest girls I know and missing the opportunity of hanging out with her in Italy would have been a darned shame. Besides, when one is invited to Italy, one goes.
Excited as I was to see Kelly, I was sad not to be spending Thanksgiving at home. It is, after all, one of my favorite holidays; whether it be the four f’s (food, family, friends, and football), the annual beat down of SPM by the vastly superior Pioneers of St. John’s, the reunion of my friends in Worcester, or catching up on lots of sleep, Thanksgiving in my eyes cannot be beaten. I was determined though to have a good time. That is not generally a hard thing to do when you are with Kelly Hill.
I arrived on on Wednesday, got in touch with the Hill family, and headed over to the Accademia Gallery to meet them. I was exquisitely happy to see Kelly emerge from the museum. We hugged, laughed, and started to stroll. Nikki was guiding us to a bus stop to catch a ride to a hill on the outskirts of the city. From there we could watch the sunset over Florence.
The night was cold, but the stifling airplane ride I had endured along with the vigorous energy of my companions made the breeze more refreshing than biting. As we wandered the hill, Kelly caught me up with all that was going on at school. Hearing about the team made me nostalgic for the feel of an oar in my hand, and also guilty for not keeping up with their level of training. Here props must be thrown out to Dixon Bross if he’s reading this. Breaking 1:40 man? You’re an animal! See you in a month.
That night we were joined by one of Nikki’s friends for dinner. Though I have forgotten the name of the restaurant, I will never forget the evening itself! Food was served in a buffet style in this great hall. To one side of the hall is a glass window through which you can see the chefs bustling back and forth preparing the food. Along with the generous portions of pasta, they made limited quantities of certain delicacies. When these dishes were ready, a old Italian man with flowing white hair, an exquisite beard, and perfectly twirled mustache would approach the window and bellow in a deep voice “RAAAAAVIOLIIII!!!!” and so would begin the mad dash to the window to scoop up all the ravioli or tripe or whatever it was that was being served. It was a priceless scene to observe and take part in.
After the dinner we were treated to a performance on the stage located at the far end of the hall. A (rather dashing) dark-haired Italian man played guitar while his female colleague rambled on in ferocious Italian. I was confessedly sleepy and dozed off in the first 20 minutes. This power nap recharged me though and, although I understood not a word of the whole performance, I sat riveted to the stage for over an hour.
The guitar player was quite good, though I thought his best moments were the improvised blues riffs that were so scarce and gave way to a more classic, flamenco-like accompaniment. The actor, however, commanded attention! She had the ability to contort her face so as to assume more expressions in the span of a minute than I have seen in my entire stay in Paris (Parisians are, admittedly, dispassionate regarding facial expression)! Comedic monologues were set apart by various songs- she was blessed with a pleasing voice- and the night culminated in a sing-a-long. I walked out of the restaurant tired and none the wiser, but with a smile on my face.
Thursday I rose around 10:30 AM and tried to call Kelly to see what the plans were for the day. Unfortunately I was greeted with an overly friendly message from my phone carrier telling me that my credit was expired and I would not be able to send or receive calls. What poor luck!
I headed over to their hotel, but upon finding them out (we had discussed going to Pisa for the day) left a message that I would call again at five. Disappointed though I was, I went off into the city to see the sights. This was my second time in Florence. The first was nine years ago with my mother and brother, Matt, on a Tour d’Italie that also included Venice and Rome. Of the three cities, however, Florence left the weakest impression on my ten-year old mind. I was very happy for the opportunity to revisit it with an open mind.
It was a beautiful day and the weather was fair. As Paris was dreary that week, I was in particularly good spirits. Here is a list of what I saw:
- The Duomo- a huge, domed cathedral more or less in the center of the city. You can climb all the way to the top and look out over the city. As you look eastwards you can make out the snow capped Alps in the distance. With a fog rolling in, it was difficult to distinguish the heavens from the earth.
- The Accademia Gallery- home of Michelangelo’s David, the greatest piece of sculpting known to man. I sat here for over an hour marveling. A new addition to the presentation since my last trip was an interactive computer generated representation of the sculpture in which certain parts of the body can be examined on their own at different angles and under different lights. Just beneath the screen credit was given to the creators of the program: Stanford University, California, USA.
- Dante’s house- pretty cool to learn about the political strife of the city than impacted who made it into Dante’s Hell. It must have been very satisfying to condemn your adversaries to the eternal fires of literary hell!
- Ponto Vecchio- famous bridge lined by jewelry shops that crosses the Arno River
- Pitti Palace- former residence of the Medicci’s, now a “modern” art museum (note that modern art for the Florentines is a world removed from the modern art at the Pompidou)
That night I met up with Kelly late and we strolled, chatted, and wound up eating a Nutella waffle (yummm) on Ponto Vecchio. On the way back to her hotel she kindly treated me to a pint of Guinness courtesy of Dave Evans (thanks buddy! I’ll get you back). We parted ways and I spent another hour or so strolling the city taking in the fresh Italian air.
The Hills were leaving early the next morning so I got up to say goodbye. Kelly greeted me with pictures they had taken in Pisa, and I must say they were so well done I feared for the Tower’s structural integrity; Kelly may or may not have actually kicked it down. After their departure I spent my morning strolling around the city, reading in cafes, and checking out the art of the Medicci Palace listed above. Before I knew it, I was back on a plane and in Paris.
It was a fantastic trip and I loved Florence! To share it with a friend like Kelly was absolutely awesome. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing her and all my crew boys again in January. But now it is early Monday morning and I have less than a week left in Paris! It is unbelievable how quickly the time has passed, but it is now down to the final moments. I must make the most of it while scrambling to finish my finals papers. But first, some sleep. Good night all!
