We’re back home for an afternoon siesta to avoid the crowds and the heat. The heat really is not that bad today and we do not know about the crowds. Visiting the Uffizi early was great, though Ellen and I both like to take our time with paints and sculptures that speak to us. At first there were one and two and small groups of people shuffling by as we pondered, examined, oooh and ahh’d at paintings and sculptures. I’m not big on religious art, but the craftsmanship and artistry that went into some works stopped me in my tracks on a number of occasions. What brought me to tears was Boticelli’s gallery. The Birth of Venus and La Primavera are exquisite. The workmanship on the religious pieces in his gallery do project the love and joy that these two paintings do. Like most artisans and artists of the day, Boticelli made his living creating religious works for wealthy patrons. His two pagan themed works are masterpieces; I stood transfixed seemingly forever.

Later in the morning the occasional small group became mid-sized tours shuffling by. Clearly it was time for us to boogie, which we did pretty much all the way to gallery 90: Carravaggio. His work marked a shift in the craft and his use of light is remarkable. The pieces are displayed in a very low light condition. They are dark and emphasize the light falling on faces, hands, and clothing. The shadows fade into his dark borders. Photographed with moderately high ISO, these paintings POP. They are quite dramatic.

With the Firenze Pass, we can return tomorrow and pickup where we left off, thought I expect we will linger in the Boticelli Gallery once again.

The Uffizi is enormous. The rooms are art treasures in their own right. Some corridors are long, wide, high, and festooned with sculptures. It is impossible to take in everything the museum has on display in a week. As I wanted to see the Carravaggio exhibit, I asked a guard in Italian, “Scuzi, dove eh Carravagio, por favore?” And much to my surprise I heard a staccato of Italian in reply! Seeing my blank expression, the guard answered in English, whew. It is near the end of the exhibit, room 90. Boticelli was in room 20. After just a few hours of walking rooms filled with priceless art, I was reeling on overload and we made a bee line for the exit. We will go back tomorrow and perhaps the following day.

Leaving the Uffizi, we wandered side streets looking for an appealing trattoria for lunch. We skipped several, choosing “Il Barroccio”. It was nearly empty, but the menu appealed. Ellen chose to sit inside where it was a bit cooler. Our waiter spoke quite good English, and described two specials that appealed to both of us except for the muscles. I asked if one could be prepared without muscles. With Italian waiter’s typical knack for misunderstanding, the water assumed I had ordered the dish without muscles. We straightened that out: yes the chef can prepare the meal without muscles, no: I do not want that meal for lunch. I ordered in quite bad Italian as best I could. Ellen ordered a salad, she wanted something crisp and light. I ordered a plate of Tuscan sliced meats followed by vegetarian lasagna and a Morretti. The lasagna was excellent. We may make reservations at that restaurant for dinner tomorrow.

Ellen wanted to visit San Croce Basilica after lunch. I was pretty much “museum’d out” for the day, but agreed to go and was very pleasantly surprised. The basilica is enormous, ornate as you would expect for an Italian basilica, and it houses the remains of some very famous personages: Michelangelo, Galileo, Rossini, Machiavelli, and Dante! Well not Dante actually. Florence has been quarrelling with Ravenna over Dante’s remains. Dante died in Ravenna and the city refuses to give him up.

We headed home around 3pm for siesta ahead of our climb up the hill behind us to see what we see. On the way home we stopped for laundry detergent, some more fantabulous bread, and I splurged on a second bottle of wine, not sangiovese as before, but a brunello. The sangiovese was as good as from Napa and Sonoma that I’ve tasted. In Florence, boutique wine shops with wine tasting are as common as gelaterias. Wine is a very big thing in Florence, and unlike Napa or Sonoma, the wines are not expensive. Sure you can pay whatever you want for a bottle, but the everyday drinking wines are between $8e and $25e and appear to be excellent quality. Were did the US get the idea that French wines were the bees knees (aside from Napa/Sonoma)?

We will look for a live performance this weekend.

Ron