Day 6: Duomo di Firenze

When we studied cathedrals in art history class at Pratt, I thought they all looked the same and couldn't keep their names straight for the life of me. In the future, I won't have that problem.

My second day in Florence, Abby took me to see the Duomo. Right before it was about to come into sight, she warned me "Don't faint."

Thanks for the heads up, Abby.

What a sight to behold. Having never seen anything like this before, I was astonished. I feel slightly pathetic making an analogy about understanding craftsmanship, through my work at Pratt's Metal Shop. This is on a whole other level. What struck me first was the level of detail. On the façade, every few inches there is a different embellishment. The façade alone is 124 x 295" (to the highest point). That's a lot of detail! Every detail required an extreme amount of skill to craft. When it's all put together, the man hours are incalculable.

Not sure what the scaffolding is for.

Duomo means cathedral in Italian. Residents of cities fortunate enough to have duomos, refer to their duomo as 'duomo', while the full name would be along the lines of "Duomo di Firenze." The duomo in Florence is really three structures, the baptistery, cathedral, and bell tower.

South side duomo, represent. Giatto's bell tower.

Last night when I decided that I was going to blog about the Duomo, I did some research (read the wikipedia article). While I recommend reading it for yourself, two bits caught my attention.

Click me! I'm huge!

Firstly, the duomo was designed by architect, Arnolfo di Cambio, but because its construction took so long, every twenty years or so, a new architect would pick up the project. The result of this unintentional collaboration was an evolution of sorts, where each head architect added his own contribution.

Filipo Burnelleschi's greatest achievement.

Secondly, the dome. The dome. The dome! Designed by Filipo Burnelleschi, it remains the largest brick dome ever built. It is over 100 ft tall and took 170 years to build. Additionally, it was built without any internal support! There was not enough lumber in all of Tuscany to build internal scaffolding for it (Rocko's Modern Life anyone?).

Filipo forever admiring his work.

Rick Steve's always said, the more you know about something the more interesting it is. So true, Rick! After reading about the Duomo, I was practically foaming at the mouth to go and see it again. Abby mentioned that, for a fee, you could even climb on top of the dome. Done! I paid my €8 and up I went. Needless to say, it was the best €8 I've spent.

The staircase to the top was intense.

Small windows, what a tease.

No caption necessary.

I crush you!

Breathtaking! (Click for huge image)

If that was my fate, I'd believe in God too. (click)

The man (or son of the man) himself. 

Who knew the devil has 4 faces and eats people?

Time for more stairs. This is in between the outer and inner domes.

Imagine building this...

That's right folks, zoom to your heart's content. (click)

Magnifico!

Can you hear me now?

Florentine rooftops. (click)

"I think we made a wrong turn at the gelateria..."

An observatory that must have been built before the lightbulb was invented. 

Ciao!

I'm glad I was there early, before the throngs.

Tools used to construct the dome.

44 stained glass windows.

While I was on top of the dome I overheard an American couple complaining about how tired they were. I joked with them about opening up a gelato stand on the dome. I felt great after I climbed to the top – but after a nap my muscles are catching up with me. Ciao!

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Day 4: Our Apartment

"When you're drunk and need to get home, find the Arno river. Make a left two bridges from the Ponte Veccio and make the fifth right. Walk to you see the park and you've made it."

Casa de Ross

We live right across from Piazza Tasso. Upon passing through a welcoming forest green door, find yourself in a dark and scary hallway. Walk towards the light. Admire a charming brick courtyard, and slip through a pair of French doors (I had to take my pack off to fit through).

Knock knock...

No wonder Europeans are so thin.

Overall, it's slightly larger than my apartment in Brooklyn. Despite Lola's absence, it certainly has more charm. It may be small, but it's comfortable... and in Florence!

The French doors open up to our kitchen and eating area (which also happens to be the entire downstairs).

Our kitchen – cozy and effective.

"Wait... let's put fruit on our heads!"

Since there's no where else to go, a short trek up the stone steps brings you to the second floor, where there are two bedrooms and a bathroom.

I wonder how old this building is...

I'm staying with Abby, who is Ally's best friend. Thank you both! Abby found this apartment through CouchSurfing. We both lucked out because this is a great bunch. Myself included, there are five people living here. Two girls, Abby and Tristen, and three boys, Luke, Paul, and me. Tristen, Luke, and Paul are college students studying abroad through California State University. Luke and Paul are architecture students (good luck), and Tristen is a business major.

Luke and Paul live in one bedroom. Their room has a ladder to the roof, where there is a beautiful view of buildings nearby. If you go up there, beware. Good luck squeezing back through the skylight and climbing down the ladder. The view is well worth it.

Who doesn't want a ladder in the middle of their room?

Beautiful view.

Neighboring buildings, seen from our roof.

Abby, Tristen, and I sleep in the other bedroom. I rock the couch. While sleeping on the sofa can be less than stellar, it beats pitching my tent in the courtyard (but maybe not on the roof!).

Sofa > floor

Abby's talent is a force to behold.

If you stick your head our of our window, there's a stellar view. Otherwise you get to admire the building across the courtyard. Apparently there's a crazy old Italian woman who lives in the apartment across from us.

Don't drop the camera!

Our courtyard smelled awful today.

Our crazy neighbor lives in the apartment with the rug.

Finally, there is the bathroom, which I've saved for last because it's the most interesting. There's the usual, shower, toilet, and sink. But there's also a bidet and washing machine. Living in Texas at the Hundred Acre Wood prepared me for not having a drier, but it hasn't stopped raining since I got here. Nothing dries. Damp socks are the worst. Good thing I haven't taken a shower yet :).

Check on your laundry on the can.

I couldn't ask for better roommates or place to live. Ciao!

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Day 1: Ciao Italia!

What a crazy day I've had. Not only did 16 hours of travel take its toll but there's some serious culture shock going on. I've never traveled out of the United States before, I find myself in a strange new world. While the differences are unquantifiable, I am discovering a handful of comforting similarities.

...He's outta here!

Given the craziness of my morning, I'm surprised I remembered to pack everything I did. Waking up from a night of heavy drinking, I gave Lola a hungover kiss, had a good cry with mom, and shoved a few more odds and ends into my bag.

Most 'people' cared when I left.

Dad whisked me off to the airport. When we separated at the security gate, that was the first time I'd been on my own since DC. A sudden calm came over me as I took off my shoes and emptied my pockets.

Headed to the Philadelphia airport.

Freedom!

No snakes on this plane. Fingers crossed.

Originally my seat was nestled in the back of the plane, conveniently located by the lavatories. Grazie to US Airways for changing me to to a pleasant location in the middle of the plane. Thanks to Apple's airplane power adapter, I got mountains of work done. Despite the lack of flushing, and the open seat to my left, I failed in the sleep department. Though I did chat up the friendly Italian couple to my right. After a long night, the sunrise above the clouds was bittersweet. As if by magic, when the captain announced that in 30 minutes we would be touching down in Rome, I felt refreshed.

The Italian couple to my right was friendly.

The Alps?

The train to Florence left from a station in the center of Rome. Since the airport was on the outskirts, I took a train into the heart of the beast. By some crazy coincidence (The Magician), I sat next to this chap who was from Allentown, PA. He was going to stay with his basketball star brother, who was living in Rimini.

Woohoo... welcome to Europe... blort

Straight from Allentown.

Believe it or not, I planned this first part of my trip. Since my plane got in at 8:30 and the train to Florence left at 10:45, I was excited to spend two hours in Rome. The train from the airport pulled into Roma Termini at 10:35. True to Connard style, I had to run from track 27 to track 1. As I got on the train, the doors closed right behind me. Given my train experience in the 'States, there's usually a surcharge for buying a ticket on the train. I assumed it would be similar in Europe. I was right, but when the conductor said €67,50 I nearly lost it (the original price was €16,75). Cheers to the learning curve! The rest of the train ride to Firenze Santa Maria Novella was magnificent. I've never seen anything like the Italian countryside. My camera and I wished the train window wasn't scratched and dirty. We passed beautiful rolling hills, sprinkled with cozy towns, rustic houses with private vineyards, and I saw my second rainbow of the day, as the universe shone upon me. Bella!

Green fields.

Old towns.

Hill towns.

Sweet!

Despite everything that could have gone awry, Abby was waiting for me in the biglietteria (ticket room). Whew! The train ride was beautiful, but as soon as we got out of the train station, I felt like I was on a different planet. Narrow streets, ornate architecture, rich history, and small chattering Italian men swirled around me. Maybe it was my lack of sleep but I couldn't seem to absorb anything.

Abby lives in a charming apartment with one other girl, and two guys, the three of which are college students from California State University. After shimmying a sofa back into her room, I crashed, though I was barely able to sleep. It was the same feeling I had on the plane, too much excitement. Thankfully my mind eventually gave up and I passed out.

The Arno river.

Wecome!

At least they knew where they were going.

Later that night we headed out to Volume, a local bar which has a jam session every Thursday. Abby is a budding musician who sings and plays banjo. She grabbed the stage by the horns and let out a musical fury that got the attention of all the Italian men (except the bartender who she's crushing on who wasn't there). After Abby finished a few killer songs, we enjoyed the rest of the night listening to others who were drunk enough to get up on stage (there were plenty) as I tried my best to soak it all in.

That night I laid down, still too excited to sleep. There is so much going on here, so much that is new and different. After what seemed one of the longest days of my life, I fell asleep unaware of what lies ahead, yet fully comfortable in my discomfort. Ciao Italia!

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