For the most part, rail travel around Europe, inside the Eurail zone anyway, is not overly complicated. Sure, if we think back to the day we left Paris, there can be some tense, frantic moments. But once you’re in the system, so to speak, it can be easy enough to go gallivanting around Europe using nothing but your Eurail Pass and book of Train Time Tables. Well, things are a little more complicated in Italy. Here, you need something more than a Eurail Pass. You need a reservation. Okay, no problem. We were prepared for this. What we weren’t prepared for was how quickly train reservations filled up.
The previous morning, before we had set out to spend the day in Como, we had gone by the train station to reserve our seats for the train ride from Milan to Florence only to find that what we wanted was booked. Pretty much all the trains from Milan to Florence were booked for the day. Our only option was to sort of hop one of the trains guerrilla style and stand around the boarding area during the entire trip. At the time, it didn’t sound too bad to us. We were in beautiful, laid back Como, and we weren’t really concerned about a train ride that would take place a day later. It surely wouldn’t be that bad.
Well, it kind of was. Traveling by rail in the non-insulated holding area of a train during winter is about as much fun as it sounds. I’m sure worse modes of transportation from Milan to Florence have been secured over the years, but it was of little consolation to us at the time. The trip from Como to Milan was not a problem. No reservations needed and plenty of seating available. Might’ve given us a false sense of hope that maybe the arrangement from Milan to Florence wouldn’t be that bad after all. Well…fool’s gold. We boarded the train in Milan and found every last seat taken. We split up into groups with Will, Alex, and I in one group - I guess we were still sitting in certain carts according to our ticket class – while the others split off in respective groups.
I can’t remember if the others might’ve eventually found a place to sit, but our little triumvirate didn’t. We huddled closely together, alternately standing up and sitting on the cold stairwell of the exit door. When you didn’t feel like standing any longer, you sat down. When the cold steel eventually numbed your bottom, you stood back up. Every now and then we’d have to make way for passengers or attendants moving from cart to cart, and how sad we must have looked, like traveling vagabonds stowing away in the bowels of Italy’s Eurail System while all (or most) around us traveled in relative comfort. It was a rare foggy day in Italy as well, so there was not much scenery to act as a visual release. I seem to vaguely recall getting a good look at Bologna as we traveled through the town, but not much else stood out. Or rather, we couldn’t see much else as I’m sure it’s a scenic ride through the Northern Italy hill country.
Numbed and shivering bottoms aside, we made it to Florence in one piece, headed to the hotel, dropped off the luggage, and made our way towards a pizzeria chain called Yellow Bar for some lunch. Hmm…pizza…Italy…good, even from a chain that’s present throughout the city. It had been two years, but as I gained my bearings, I found Florence was still imbued with that unmistakable quality of simple sophistication. For a modestly populated city, Florence is an immensely popular tourist destination, befitting its history in general, but especially its relationship with the Renaissance. Its present day connection to fashion as well as it acting as a bridgehead to the rest of the iconic Tuscan countryside only further enhance its reputation. Yet despite its revered status, there’s a small town, refined elegance that you don’t often get. It’s not shocking to discover this given the city’s historical roots, yet it takes you by surprise all the same.
After lunch, we all headed over to the Galleria dell’ Accademia to check out Michelangelo’s “David”. We weren’t the only ones with that idea, however, and the line stretched around a few blocks. Some of us passed the time by writing clever messages on all old graffiti filled wall. Nearly a week on from a mostly unpopular, yet memorable dining experience in Interlaken, there were those amongst our party who still couldn’t quite get the experience out of their system. “While there are some that fondue, we fondont” was our one notable contribution to Florentine architecture. While this was going on, myself and a few others discovered the one thing that a McDonald’s in Florence (and Italy in general) is good for…a bathroom that’s open to the public.
Once inside the museum, everyone put on a pretty good front of pretending to care about the other pieces of art nearby, but given the relative weakness of this gallery compared to the more illustrious Uffizi, most people come here to see one thing and one thing alone…Michelangelo’s “David”. And to be fair, this one hit wonder approach doesn’t disappoint. One of, if not the most famous sculpture in the world, and the first thing that stands out, as it did for me, Ryan, and Will two years later, is that the statue itself is huge. But it’s up close that the Michelangelo’s work really stands out, where you can see the detailed definition in David’s muscles and veins, and that’s when you really begin to marvel at Michelangelo’s genius. At least that’s when I did, with my admittedly untrained eye in art.
Having had our fill of David in all his masculine, unclothed glory, we exited the Accademia into the cool night air with nothing but dinner plans. This allowed for an hour or so of free time for everyone to do what they wanted with that time. Most decided to stay in and rest up a little before dinner. I wanted to take a walk around the city beforehand, and Beth joined me as we wondered the streets of Florence a bit. Walked down to the Duomo, and to my complete and utter surprise, we found a Native American band playing the theme music from one of my favorite films, The Last of the Mohicans. Last thing I expected to hear as I made way around the historic alleyways of this famous city. Walked up to the Ponte Vecchio from here and did some window shopping only. I was more interested in the view of the city across the Arno River. Dinner reservations were coming up soon, though, so we went to meet back up with everyone else at the hotel.
Dinner reservations were at a place called Paoli. I had some Carbonera and Veal Scallopine, and to be honest, was underwhelmed by it. But I think this was just one of those rare, freak occurrences where things didn’t line up for me, because just about everyone else from the group remembers it as one of the best meals of the entire trip. Win some you lose some I guess. It was still a good experience though; a pleasant end to a day that began so inauspiciously
Once inside the museum, everyone put on a pretty good front of pretending to care about the other pieces of art nearby, but given the relative weakness of this gallery compared to the more illustrious Uffizi, most people come here to see one thing and one thing alone…Michelangelo’s “David”. And to be fair, this one hit wonder approach doesn’t disappoint. One of, if not the most famous sculpture in the world, and the first thing that stands out, as it did for me, Ryan, and Will two years later, is that the statue itself is huge. But it’s up close that the Michelangelo’s work really stands out, where you can see the detailed definition in David’s muscles and veins, and that’s when you really begin to marvel at Michelangelo’s genius. At least that’s when I did, with my admittedly untrained eye in art.
Having had our fill of David in all his masculine, unclothed glory, we exited the Accademia into the cool night air with nothing but dinner plans. This allowed for an hour or so of free time for everyone to do what they wanted with that time. Most decided to stay in and rest up a little before dinner. I wanted to take a walk around the city beforehand, and Beth joined me as we wondered the streets of Florence a bit. Walked down to the Duomo, and to my complete and utter surprise, we found a Native American band playing the theme music from one of my favorite films, The Last of the Mohicans. Last thing I expected to hear as I made way around the historic alleyways of this famous city. Walked up to the Ponte Vecchio from here and did some window shopping only. I was more interested in the view of the city across the Arno River. Dinner reservations were coming up soon, though, so we went to meet back up with everyone else at the hotel.
Dinner reservations were at a place called Paoli. I had some Carbonera and Veal Scallopine, and to be honest, was underwhelmed by it. But I think this was just one of those rare, freak occurrences where things didn’t line up for me, because just about everyone else from the group remembers it as one of the best meals of the entire trip. Win some you lose some I guess. It was still a good experience though; a pleasant end to a day that began so inauspiciously
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