The Mediterranean Cruise Chronicles: Part III (Pisa and Florence, Italy)

Day V


17 June 2012, Porto Livorno

Mike and I were ambitious and aimed to cover two cities--Pisa and Florence, an hour apart from each other--and make it back to the ship by 6:30 PM. A bus at the port brought us to another bus stop at the Livorno City Center, where we learned we had to take another bus to a "Stazzione" ("Station"), where we would--guess what?--hop on a final bus to the Leaning Tower, Cathedral, and Baptistery. We quickly learned that, unless one rode in a cab, transportation in Italy was usually not a straight shot and very unreliable. Its inefficiency (and other things) made it no wonder that the country was falling apart.

Pisa

But the small town of Pisa had big things to offer. As cliche as it sounds, upon entering the area where all three structures stood, my heart stopped. This visit had been on my bucket list for some time and was worth the 15 bus rides. Mike and I gawked at the buildings' white splendor, thinking that those who hail from Pisa (and Italians in general) must be very proud. I decided to splurge on a bit of cell phone data by sending my dad a Father's Day picture.

We paid for admittance into the Baptistery, where one finds Nicola Pisano's pulpit. For art history buffs, I believe the pulpit was made during that awkward Medieval-Renaissance interchange, when artists began to consider proximity differences (so all subjects in an artwork, regardless of position, wouldn't all be the same size). (*Conclude nerd moment*) The cathedral was free and we entered; however, the tower's interior was off-limits until 1 PM, making us sad people because we had to get to Florence.

It was hard to leave, but Mike lured me out of there with the word "gelato." The Stazzione was a two-mile walk from the tower, so on the way we stopped at a gelateria for Mike's first-ever cone. The flavors were godly and nothing could compare.

Florence

From Pisa we took a train to Florence, where we had three hours to see the unique Florence Cathedral and then Michelangelo's David at the Galleria dell'Accademia. Searching for the Cathedral first, the sun beat on us hard as we sifted through all the buildings that made the structure barely visible overhead. After some time, we found the Cathedral using Google Maps again, which was more spectacular that expected (the Cathedral). Embellished in what I describe as "Candy Land colors" and Tuscan rectangles and stripes, the Cathedral was humongous--too humongous for a wee person like me to circumnavigate in under five minutes if I took my time. I kept pausing and cocking my head up at its height, especially at the dome expertly designed by Filippo Brunelleschi during the Renaissance.

Then Mike brought me back to Earth with a reminder that we had two hours before catching the train back to Livorno. We didn't have time to go inside the Cathedral, so we snapped a few photos of the outside and began our quest for the Galleria. Upon finding the building, we were "warmly" greeted by a long line blanketed by searing hot sun rays. It was unlikely we were going to make it inside, but we tried. After a few minutes the line moved a few feet and then stopped. Twenty minutes later, nothing. Mike and I kept checking up ahead every other minute thereafter and were continually disappointed. Then we were really miffed when a large tour group entered the building without difficulty. That's what the wait was for.

It was no use. With a little over half an hour to catch the train, we reluctantly thought "Maybe next time" and left the line in a hurry. On the way to the Stazzione, we were confronted by the city's narrow streets, tall buildings, and people-sheep. At one point we were lost and a student activist approached us.

"Scusa!" She said.

We jumped, feeling inconvenienced by her presence.

"It's-a okay; I'm-a good girl!" She said.

"Can you tell us how to get to the Stazzione?" Mike asked.

Thankfully she gave us instructions in decent English. We told her sorry we couldn't help her and continued on our way, changing gears to a slow and then fast jog. We made it three minutes early, panting.

While walking off the fear, I began to feel something behind me. I turned around and found an atrocious man with a lion's mane uncomfortably close to me, staring me in the eye. Natural instinct told me to hide behind Mike, which I did, and the hobo tried following me. I guess Mike's shielding me angered the guy, prompting him to harass us further while speaking perverse Italian. Getting all up on Mike, with me still behind him, the hobo's body language became even more threatening.

"Dude, I don't speak Italian!" Mike said, frustrated.

Two seconds later, the hobo finally stopped and motioned to leave, muttering offensively under his breath.

Mike and I looked at each other. Oy.

The train arrived and we boarded, exhausted.

To be continued...