It was upon leaving the apartment that we learned one of two lessons today. This first one isn't so much a cleanly definable one that is easily denoted in a list. It's more of an experiential thing--namely, the type of place not to eat. We woke up quite hungry--a bizarre circumstance given our feast last night--and we essentially were prepared to settle for the first place we found. Mix into that equation the same paralyzingly indecision we both share for these types of inconsequential decisions, and you have a verifiable embarrassment on your hands. Much back and forth ensued--likely a result of feeling the pressure to match or top last night's dining experience--before we finally settled on one of those places with display sandwiches that look mediocre at best. It screamed tourist trap, but our hungry bellies got the better of us, forcing us to plop down in their outside patio beside the Pitti Palace, which wasn't the worst setting in the world. The prosciutto panini I ordered was small for the price and reminiscent of airport food, while Maddie's miniature croissant and hot chocolate were just okay. Really nothing to complain about when you think about it, but when you travel all this way and do your best to find the best, you can't help but feel disappointed, or at least underwhelmed.
A mediocre meal isn't nearly enough to dampen our spirits, though, so much as make us feel like impatient fools for not looking further. Regardless, we walked back to our block, grabbed our first of two delicious fresh pressed juiced on the day, and headed off toward the city center. On our way, we stopped by a small sandwich shop recommended by Maddie's coworker, and it did more than hit the spot. Half the price, twice as big, and ten times the quality of breakfast, our prosciutto/arugula/goat cheese and mozzarella/tomato sandwiches were the perfect mobile snack to hold us over while we waited for tickets to enter the Duomo.
We only waited some 25 minutes in the sun to get inside the campanile, at which point we climbed the many, many steps with gusto. The views got better and better until we made it to the top, and relished the panoramic vistas before us. The sprawling city and surrounding countryside hammered home just how special a city this is--rich with history, culture, and locally grown everything! The air flow through the narrow stairwells was enough to keep me from getting the intense feeling of unease that I would soon experience inside the Duomo.
Worth the climb for sure!
Now, part of this is our fault. Neither of us planned to actually climb the dome, as the views were nearly the same as those earned by climbing the bell tower. Me merely intended to enter the cathedral and see the dome from below. Failing to read signs however, led us to waiting in line and entering the narrow, interminable staircases to the top of the dome. I had read about the cramped nature or the Duomo's stairwells, and as soon as we started climbing, I felt a bit nervous. As we climbed, that nervousness yielded to discomfort, which eventually became a strong desire to simply escape. No air flow, too many sweaty, humid, hot bodies piled and jostling in too narrow and cramped a space. I just kept imagining one of the countless out-of-shape museum patrons falling ill with a heart attack and becoming a giant bowling ball, or some other emergency causing a stampede of panic. I am inclined to talk to someone about these concerns, but on the other hand, I know I'm not alone in how borderline miserable that climb was. We did have ample time in the slowly trudging line to appreciate the inside of the majestic dome at two different levels, but as for reaching the top, what did I have to prove? It was just ceasing to be fun, so at the earliest opportunity, we headed down an exit pathway.
Grateful to be on the bottom floor, we quickly moved on toward the epic Central Market of Florence. What an incredible buzz of activity in that place! Stall after stall of culinary goodness, tempting baked goods and sumptuous meats and cheeses. We eventually made our way upstairs, where numerous trendy restaurants have sprouted up, offering a wide variety of eating options. We settled on a spot that delivered on an amazing pork pressed sandwich, a fresh salad (one of the best I've had), and a fresh juice. Florence continues to impress me with its food, among all the other aspects of this wonderful city.
After our trip to the market, we headed back to our neighborhood to explore the outskirts of the area, with all its little streets and curious alleyways. We finally made it home and relaxed for a bit before we getting ready for dinner. We decided to take our host up on his other dinner suggestion for the area, Borgo Antigo. We nabbed the last outdoor patio seats, overlooking the lively square, and we knew it was going to be a lovely night. We ordered a simple spaghetti with tomato sauce, hot chili flakes, and garlic to share, a bottle of wine, a margherita pizza for Maddie, and a Niçoise salad for me. We are and sipped our wine for the better part of two and a half hours, laughing, talking, and reveling in the atmosphere of the Santo Spirito square. I'm not sure if I've ever had a more pleasant eating experience. Finally, as drowsiness set in, we walked slowly around the block and made our way into bed. As per usual, Maddie was out within minutes, and here I am fighting sleep tooth and nail to write this.
And now, folks, I'm done. It's bed time. So long!
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