Every now and again a place bewitches you. It has happened to us a few times on our travels, and it always takes us by surprise.
The first time an unexpected city tugged at us and stole our hearts was Paris. From the very first moment, in a terrifying taxi ride from Gare du Nord to our rented apartment we knew we would be back at any given opportunity, and since that first visit in 2005 we have been back six times. It’s noisy, dirty, fast-paced, crowded, expensive, did I say dirty and loud, and filled with unexpected beauty and treasures galore. Paris demands passion.
We were bewitched twice on this trip. By Firenze (Florence) and Bruges (Belgium).
Firenze has been tantalizingly within reach a couple of times but circumstances didn’t allow a visit. This time, after years of reading about it and hearing about it from other travellers, we decided we were going to Firenze come what may. Given the rain we experienced in Tuscany the high water part of the cliche nearly ruled.
We were in Tuscany for three weeks this time, and that gave us ample opportunity to explore Firenze, and we did. We said a temporary adieu to our home in Ponte agli stolle and spent three nights in Fiosole, one of Firenze’s bedroom communities. (see photos of our terrifying ride on ridiculously narrow streets in the Getting Around blog.) From our hotel room veranda we watched the sun set and Firenze light up in her nighttime glory. The city spread at our feet like a huge gourmet buffet, just begging us to join in the feast of its wonders.
All the guide books and web sites wax ecstatic about the duomo and it warrants every word written about it. Travel writers and visitors alike fall into one of two camps about the place. They either rave about it or describe it as an over the top wedding cake. I loved it, but then, I have a heart made up of ticky tacky. I love over the top. And it really did look like that over-decorated, lacy, frothy, cake with icing dripping from the edges and sculptures decorating every nook and cranny. Stir a little Disney into a fantasy wedding cake and you have an idea of what the place looked like.
You can’t get the whole duomo into a single picture. A couple of reasons…. it’s huge, and it’s crowded in.
In Paris, Notre Dame is surrounded by open space. In Chartres, the cathedral is surrounded by open spaces. Versailles. . . surrounded by open spaces. You get the drift. With big open spaces surrounding them, these iconic locations are easy to get full photos of. Not so in Firenze.
Stores, restaurants, and other buildings fill what would be the open space around the duomo. So the photos even in tourism magazines tend to be a collage of jigsaw puzzle pieces. But the bits and bites of views you get are splendid and worth the effort of wandering around through the spoked wheel of streets that lead to the duomo. The marble is beautiful — striped black and white in layers, again like a layer cake.
The line ups testify to how the people feel about their cathedral. We went into Firenze daily with the intention of getting inside and seeing the various pieces of art the duomo is famous for. And every day, we looked at the line up and said not today. The shortest we ever saw it, the line up represented a six hour wait. We don’t do line ups well, so ended up never getting inside. Who knew that even in December the line ups would be that long. Obviously not us.
Instead we wandered the streets, discovering the leather market, several street markets and interesting sights. One bridge (the Ponte Vecchio) spanning the Arno river was filled with stores, just like the bridge in Venice. And just as the Venice bridge of stores (the Rialto), the Veccchio bridge merchandise is pricey. In Firenze it is exclusively gold and dimonds. If you have to ask, you can’t afford. But still fun to look at – the French don’t window shop, they “lick windows”. That’s an appropriate phrase describing the shopping in Firenze generally, but specifically on the bridge.
We were there two weeks before Christmas, so the streets were decorated, and children home from school. Shoppers and their families filled the streets, especially around the duomo. Santa was there, horse drawn carriages conveyed passengers around the sights and the crowds’ energy and excitement were contagious.
Three days later there was a general strike over the economic crisis, but in Firenze the days we were there, we saw no sign of an economy in near ruins.
We ate, we drank, we explored back streets, we walked miles, we rode buses, we looked for hearing aid batteries. AAAHHH Firenze has justly joined ranks with AAAHHH Paris.
And Bruges…..ahhhh Bruges. We stayed in Bruges because we wanted to explore the World War I memorials, battle sights and graveyards, and we did indeed do that, but under any circumstances, in any weather, in any season, Bruges is beautiful and worth a visit. I mean where else can you visit a french fry museum then a chocolate museum in one afternoon, then have dinner in one of several Michelin starred restaurants. Those attractions alone make the place worthy of a visit.
But there’s so much more to Bruges. The food is amazing (according to Belgians, they invented not just the French fry, but moules — mussels and they serve that delicious little crustacean [– I don’t know — is it a crustacean, it has a shell?– ] in a multitude of ways).
The town site is beautiful, filled with canals and rivers, with beautiful architecture and lovely homes, swans wander the canal and river sides, and the belgian lace, is beyond describing. Much of the lace you see these days is made in China, but occasional stores still sell the real Belgian lace, one such store employing 12 (I’m sure the nice lady said 12) lace makers. And of course having sworn I would not buy another table cloth, I bought a table cloth from that store featuring elements from the Bruges Coat of Arms.
And of real interest, well, at least to me, was the doorway we passed on one of our many walks. A crowd was gathered around this doorway and we couldn’t figure out why but as we got close, it was evident. A little old lady — well, she was older than me anyway — was sitting in her doorway making bobbin lace. The bobbins were flying and clicking in a musical way. I could have watched for hours to see what was going to emerge. A little bowl at the side of her doorway table was filling with coins.
(Side trip, Halifax 2001, I was there on business, and was overcome with a need to create, seeing stores filled with cottage crafts, including lace work. I went home and thanks to the now extinct Crafts Canada found a bobbin lace kit for beginners, which I bought, and which has resided in my loom room ever since, waiting for retirement. The time is now!!! Or rather, the time will come on arrival home!)
And the history. Original town ramparts still exist. One of the gates through those ramparts bears witness to war, with bullet holes from World War II, deliberately not repaired, left as a reminder of war. Four original windmills still stand, one in its original spot, the other moved from other locations. The brave can climb to the top. We aren’t brave when it comes to heights.
Beautiful churches…the cathedral has Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child statue, the only statue of his to leave Italy in his lifetime. It is a beautiful statue, showing Jesus as a toddler standing at Mary’s knee, and Mary looking pensively off to the side, according to the literature, contemplating His future.
A music festival was underway while we were in Bruges, and street corners were venues for impromptu choir concerts. One day an entire orchestra walked out onto the square and started playing. People from the audience were invited to conduct. It was lovely.
Of course we did the canal cruise. Of course we ate moules et frites. Of course we tried the world famous belgian chocolate.
Of course we’d go back to either of these places in a heart beat.
Bruges
Firenze’s duomo
