The night before we were to tour Florence, the six of our friends whom we were traveling with let us know that they were enjoying the VRBO so much that they decided to rest there the next day instead of taking our scheduled tours. Everyone was understandably tired, but Bob and I decided we weren’t that tired. This was an interesting part of our trip, as it revealed the level of friendship that we have with these folks. We can tell each other what we want or don’t want to do, and there are no offenses taken. It’s truly wonderful to have that kind of friendship.

The thought that I had to battle was that we possibly broke our friends. Had we been pushing too much? We all recognized going into this trip that Bob and I tend towards more aggressive touring – a FOMO (fear of missing out) mentality. Our friends enjoy a simpler, slower pace that allows more rest and taking in the ambience of the area. Both ways are fine, of course. It’s all what you want out of a trip or what you need any given day. Still, I was sad that they weren’t going to get to see Michaelangelo’s David and the city of Florence. They were fine with it, so we were, too. The next morning, off we went just the two of us.

Before I continue, here’s a teaser. Bob broke two laws on our trip to Florence – hence the Florentine faux pas. In my eyes both counts were totally understandable and fell into the category of doing what you must while observing the intent rather than the letter of the law. I’m thankful he didn’t have to go to Italian jail.

It should have been an hour’s drive, but the traffic was horrendous, so it was double that. As we inched into the city, we were thankful for our friends’ sake that they took a restful day at the VRBO. It was exhausting.

We had mapped our way to a parking garage, and even at the swift pace of about 2 mph, we missed the turn as it was blocked by a panel truck. It took 20 minutes to go back around the block. The light into the garage was green, but we could not activate the gate. There was no one there, so I walked down the ramp and I saw one open space. I reported back to Bob. Having no other way in or out, Bob was forced to back up the steep incline from the garage with me watching from the sidewalk above/behind him to avoid cyclists and pedestrians. There are people and bicycles everywhere in the city.

When I reached my vantage point up the hill, I looked down and noticed that Bob was no longer in the car. This would have been more troubling if I did not know my husband like I do. There was no one around here, and our trip had been twice as long as we reckoned, so I had a feeling that Bob was on the uncomfortable side after having drunk a Coke Zero on the way. When I saw him get back in the car, we were both relieved. We’ll call this Faux Pas Number 1.

We knew that he could not back up and get back on the road from whence we came. That left no choice but to back up and drive down the sidewalk. (Faux Pas Number 2). Have I mentioned that he was driving a standard transmission? He was a pro backing up that incline and turning and driving down the sidewalk like a sluggish Mario Andretti. I walked ahead of him to clear the way of any obstacles. “Aye yai yai.” (Excuse my Spanish!)

Upon our dismount from the sidewalk, an angel in an orange vest appeared. He flagged us down and showed us where to park. It was valet parking, so we handed over the rental car keys not really caring if we ever saw the car again. All of this made us a half an hour late for our appointment at the Galleria del’Accademia. We approached someone in the crowd who looked official, and he helped us to join the next tour. We were grateful.

Our tour guide, Glenda, was lovely. The highlight of the tour was everything by Michelangelo. There is something about walking down the corridor flanked with his unfinished sculptures, which he carved in the 1500s. Michelangelo described these as statues that were within blocks of marble. He claimed he would chip away at the marble to see what emerged. That is a splendid example of how a creative person thinks.

As fascinating and beautiful as all of that was, looking down to the end of the corridor and seeing the Statue of David meant beholding another level of Michelangelo’s artistic genius – a true masterpiece. David is surely the piece de resistance of the Galleria.

Besides seeing David, the main impetus for us to go back to Florence was going inside the duomo – Duomo di Firenze. Our last visit was on a Sunday, and you cannot go inside unless you are there for a service. As you can see by the pictures, the outside is stunning.

The dome is the largest brick dome ever made.

I was surprised at the simplicity of the interior of this Duomo. It is clearly magnificent on the outside, so I figured it would be quite ornate inside. I was wrong. While this duomo could never be described as humble, it was in comparison to the one in Siena.

I was fascinated by these lampstands. People would occasionally approach them and light a candle. It gave a warm glow, as you can see.

While we lingered inside waiting for the rain to stop, I saw a girl of around 12 years old, who was staring at her irritated eye in the bathroom mirror. I offered eyedrops, but she only spoke French. I was hesitant to try to convince her since she was not with her parents.

As Bob and I were going up the stairs to the main floor, she was in front of us. I warned Bob not to touch the hand railing as I was sure she had pink eye. Her parents greeted her at the top of the stairs, and she was quite distressed. I walked over to them and offered eyedrops. Her father was grateful and wanted me to put them in. I told them I wouldn’t touch her just have her open her eye wide and look up. I put a few drops in and handed her a tissue. I only share this because years ago while traveling with these same friends I had a terrible case of pink eye, so I am gun-shy when it comes to being around it. I thought it was cool of God to let me offer relief to someone who was suffering like I had.

The rain faded to a drizzle but with the temperatures dropping, we were not excited about getting wet. We headed for the nearest restaurant and were seated immediately. (Thankful, again.)

Note the restaurant began in 1882!

Our lovely meal began with a starter of bruschetta accompanied by a glass of Chianti, which was recommended by our guide Glenda as the go-to wine of the region. I had risotto with asparagus and salami – easily the best risotto I’ve ever tasted.

The sun came out as we ambled down the street, totally happy with a full tummy and the warmth of the wine as we faced a chill in the air. Bob and I absorbed as much of Florence as we could before going back to our friends in Siena. We were quite tired and happy to find our car right where we left it. That’s a good day.