While our trail today (Sunday's travel journal) drew out the big moment of walking into Florence by way of a long, east-bearing serpentine path, we hit the outskirts of the city before noon. Almost immediately a certain cool, suave vibe hit the air. Design stores lined the streets, gelato shops turned in scoop-pocked tubs for ice cream sculpture even the graffiti, bikes and street signs seemed to announce: This is Florence. Prepare to be dazzled!
We spent the afternoon familiarizing a bit with Florence (north and south of the river Arno). And after assuring we knew our starting points for tours to come (Monday and Tuesday) took a little down time before striking out to eat late for us, but right on the Italian dinner schedule. Thank you, Karen, for recommending Quattro Leoni. There I truly enjoyed the most magnificent gnocchi of my life -- the most tender, melt in your mouth tiny potato and ricotta pillows of pasta goodness . . .. This pasta alone could make me wish to be a Florentine!!
The dining was perfect -- setting, service and every delightful bite. And about the time we were thinking of how good it would feel to stroll the streets on our way back toward the Duomo, thunder rumbled and the skies broke open in an absolute deluge. After briefly considering a cab (Really? We just walked here from Bologna and now we need a cab?). We ordered an aperitif and settled in to watch the storm from the comfort of our covered sidewalk table. Maybe it was the wine, perhaps the aperitif, but in the end as the rain stretched into its second hour, we asked our waiter for plastic bags, covered our cameras, and ran through the deserted streets of Florence like a couple of kids.
And in the oldest of cities, shortly before midnight the past embraced and celebrated the spontaneity of presence -- urging us to run and hoot and giggle through the rain; for this is our moment -- and we may never pass this way again.
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