Day 8 - 23 April, 2005: Florence, Siena

We slept in a bit this morning; knowing that our schedule wasn't going to be so hectic. Breakfast in the hotel's dining room was a surprise. They had quite a spread of scrambled eggs, sausage, the customary breads and pastries, cold cuts and cheese. I was very thankful to be able to eat a "normal" breakfast.

After the bumpy bus ride into town, we got off at the Accademia stop and saw the super long line to get in. We decided that we would rather not spend so much time in line, so we headed to Santa Croce to find its famous Leather School that's been making fine leather goods since the post-war period. We went to two different tourist information offices looking for directions, and finally found it after spending the better part of 30 minutes looking for it. Once we got there, the monastery situated behind the church was quite the tranquil setting amidst the hustle and bustle of downtown Florence. The actual leather school was an impressive array of jackets, coats, purses, belts, pants, everything leather. Surprisingly, Angela couldn't find anything that caught her eye. I must admit, it was a bit of a relief for me. ;)

Angela wasn't too keen on it, but I insisted that we go inside the main church building. It's the burial place of such Italian notables as Michelangelo Buonarrati, Galileo Galilei, and Niccolo Macchiavelli. Michelangelo's tomb was, predictably, ornate; Macchiavelli's tomb was fairly plain; and Galileo's tomb was, unfortunately, shrouded in scaffolding and tarpaulins while the art restoration specialists work on the frescoes surrounding it.

After we had our fill of Santa Croce, we strolled back towards the Uffizi and the Palazzo Vecchio. We decided that we wanted to see what the Palazzo Vecchio had to offer, so we got in line and went through the security screening. The signs outside indicated that this museum was free of charge, but when we got to the entrance to the galleries, we were politely, but sternly, informed that we had to purchase a ticket. Instead, we just took some pictures of the incredibly ornate inner courtyard and went to find the bus back to Fiesole. On the way back to the bus, Angela decided that she needed to get her "shop" on, so I got to enjoy my least favorite marital activity. Fortunately, she found the Furla store fairly quickly and got her fill in short order.

Back in Fiesole, we took a quick break and got ready for our day-trip down to Siena. The drive was pleasant, and we got to Siena around 3:30 or so. The skies were very heavy when we got there, and the town was fairly crowded. Strolling around the town, we were struck by how it was not at all what we expected. As walled cities go, Siena is pretty big. We found Piazza del Campo and were summarily unimpressed. It was a bustle of activity, no doubt, but so far none of the piazzas we've seen on this trip can remotely compare with the piazzas like Piazza Navona and Piazza d'Espagne in Rome. We meandered around the town and found ourselves at the foot of the Duomo. It was very impressive. The facade was, dare I say, more ornately decorated than the Duomo in Florence. One very interesting thing that we discovered about Siena had to do with its neighborhoods. They are all marked with various crests painted on tiles mounted in the walls of buildings. Every year, there is a huge competition among the various districts for bragging rights throughout the city.

Around 5:30, we decided that we didn't want to hang around until the dinner hour, so we left Siena and took the Chianti Road (S222) with the intention of having dinner in one of the small towns on the way back to Florence. Angela was reading our Fodors guide to Italy and had picked out an "out of the way" restaurant called "Ristoro di Lamole" in a town called Lamole. According to the book; it had a commanding view of the vineyards in the valley below the town. Great! We decided to try to find this place. We turned off of the 222 on the road to Lamole and went for several kilometers without finding the restaurant. The signs were sparse, and finally we pulled off into the parking lot of a vineyard/B&B called Vignamaggio. As an aside, this place looked awesome! We definitely want to come back here. Anyway, we called the restaurant from our cell phone to get directions. We were able to get a hold of an English speaking waitress who politely told us that we had not gone far enough down the road.

With good directions in hand, we finally found the restaurant. Sure enough, the view was spectacular. Dinner was exquisite. We partook of a local aperitif called limoncella, and had a wonderful conversation with the proprietor on our way out the door. I asked him about the new no-smoking laws in Italy, and he allowed as how his establishment went no-smoking 2 years ago. He recommended some very locally produced Chianti and olive oil, which we bought, and we were on our way.

Now, it was already 9:30 or so by the time we started back to Florence. There was no moon; it was cloudy, and it had been sprinkling rain on and off. On the road back to the 222, we were essentially forced off the road by a maniacal Italian driver with one light out, driving right smack in the middle of the road. Usually this would not be a huge problem, but tonight, I struck a large rock that shook the whole vehicle. Back on the main road, my tire pressure warning light came on, and the trucklet started pulling hard to the right. I told Angela "I think we have a flat tire." She didn't believe me until I showed her, by letting go of the wheel.

Now, part of our European Delivery experience includes 24 hour roadside assistance. Of course, I left that information in the hotel. D'Oh! I'd have to change the tire myself. Not a huge deal, but it was late, and wet, and dark.

First task, find a flat spot to park; check. I found a public parking lot just off the road.
Second, find the lug wrench and jack; check. Third, jack up the car and remove the flat; check. Well, not so fast. The jack seemed barely capable of supporting the weight of the car. And it didn't help that I missed the jack point on my first try. Compounding the problem is that the action of the jack handle was very awkward. After some consternation; cursing; Angela laughing; offers of assistance from Italian teenagers; I got the wheel replaced and we made it back to Florence. It was a nervous drive back, since I had nothing if we blew out the spare, too.

I just got off the phone with the Roadside Assistance people who were very helpful, although apologetic that they wouldn't be able to help me until Tuesday. See, nothing in Italy, save restaurants and museums, is open on Sunday, and Monday is a national holiday. Thankfully, our plans don't require the use of our car until then, anyway.

Tomorrow's the big day! The Grand Prix of Imola. I think it's going to be a long day.