A Little Trip to Florence

So we took a little trip to Florence with my Mom and my aunt Rose. It wasn’t really planned, but at dinner one night we started talking about a trip, and, well, one thing led to another and the next thing I knew we were buying tickets online. The flight was only two hours, but we might as well have gone to a different world.

I hadn’t been in Florence since I was five years old, and it was wonderful. My Italian came back on the first day—I was having conversations with people, using words I hadn’t even thought of for years. Julie and Ian enjoyed their first visit to Italy, and both learned some of the language.

We walked around for most of the time. It was warm and relaxed, and we saw a lot of the city on foot. It between we ate amazing food, drank some great wine, and enjoyed gelato every chance we could. We saw some of the great works of sculpture in the museums and public areas of the city, and spent a fair amount of time in the Galleria dell’Accademia, where Michaelangelo’s David is housed. None of us are art experts by any stretch, but we were all moved when we were in the presence of David. It was one of those rare things that comes with a lot of hype and buildup, and yet doesn’t disappoint.

Ian continues to be a great little traveler. He got up at 4am with us to catch our cab to the airport, then walked around all day with us when we arrived. He rode buses, looked at great works of art (even if he spent most of the time looking at, er, butts), and ate in restaurants. He even asked for our room key in Italian. As you’ll see in the pictures below, Ian is a trooper, and wants to go back to Florence as soon as we can go.

This is us on the flight to Pisa (no visit to the Tower, alas).

When Ian handed over his passport when we arrived in Italy, the guard asked him if his father was Italian. When we said we were originally from LA, he started telling us about Kobe Bryant's years in Italy. He posed for a snap with us.

That's Ian at the train station in Pisa, right outside the door of the airport, while we were waiting for a train through the Tuscan countryside to Florence.
This is Ian in our hotel room.
The same room from a different angle.
Ian with Grandma Marian and Aunt Rose, hanging out in the hotel.

This is a typical corner in Florence. Some locals, some tourists, and some art.
That's us on a bridge called Ponte Vecchio, which has been the home of Florence's gold and jewelry market since the 1400s. So many narrow streets, so little time...
Ian in front of the main Cathedral and the Duomo (peeking out in the back).
More dramatic art, just laying around the town.
This is Neptune, God of the sea. One of many naked men in Florence.
My sister has been keeping secrets from us... I mentioned to the host here that I had a sister named Gina in the States, and he gave me a menu from the restaurant.
Ian continues to fall afoul of the authorities.

More art...Ian and I taking in some of the sights.
Rose and Ian on top of a sightseeing bus in the village of Fiesole, in the hills above Florence.
He is risen indeed!
Ian carries that bag everywhere we go. He keeps papers, games and a journal of his travels.
He also rides merry-go-rounds...
This is the spot where Savonarola was burned as a punishment for burning the early books of the Renaissance age. My sister Angie was on this site when she was 11 or 12.
Ian really wanted a picture in front, um, I mean in back of the statue of Neptune. So here it is: Ian and Neptune's rear end.

On the train leaving Florence, Ian and I caught a little nap.

Ian was first in line to board our flight back to London. He walked across the runway with the entire passenger group behind him.