Firenze, the girl from the sky, and fire
Part three: Fire
At about 2 pm, fire broke out in a fourth storey flat on Via Dei Rossi in Siena, Toscana. A fire truck and the Carabinieri were present. Firemen were elevated to the floor on the turntable ladder equipped with hoses. While attempting enter the apartment from the outside, a window was pried loose and crashed onto the street below. Smoke was being emitted from the windows as the firemen entered to check for any persons trapped inside. Neighbours and passers by were seen looking on interestedly. No one appeared to have been hurt.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Travels with GG
Firenze, the girl from the sky, and fire
Part two: The girl from the sky
After the awe-struck, sleep deprived day in Firenze, we finally arrived at the Florence Youth Hostel, ate a package meal (asparagus risotto - it was terrible) and slept. The sandman worked overtime that night.
At about 2:30 am, I found myself awake, screaming, my hand covering my mouth to stop me from doing so, and eyes staring at a girl sprawled on the floor next to my bed. I had been woken up by a massive crash involving the girl falling off the top bunk of the bed GG was sleeping in, and hitting her head against the bedside table. I thought she had died.
Soon enough, another girl appeared on the top bunk. Hearts palpitating, we managed to throw the two apologising, drunk English girls out of the room. I shut and locked the door, made sure I had the key with me, pushed the luggage against the door, and then GG and I sat and stared at each other.
What had just happened?
On closer inspection, we realised that they had been in the room for a bit, for the bathroom had been used. We were so dead to the world, we had no clue. How could we take care of ourselves if we were incapable of realising there were noisy intruders in the room. We couldn't sleep. The main worry - what if we slept too soundly again?
Well, there wasn't much that could be done so we tried to go back to bed. As we drifted into unconsciousness, we were alerted by a key rattling in the door again! What audacity. I got up, opened the door and told the girl off. Her excuse for the behaviour was that since her key didn't fit in the room she was assigned to, she simply tried other rooms and decided that she had the right to sleep in there. What cheek!
After having thrown them out for a second time, we found that turning the key halfway in the door would stop it from being pushed out the other side and that would prevent the room from being broken in a third time.
In the light of day, we saw the whole incident from a lighter perspective, but the crash had destroyed my ballpoint pen that lay on that bedside table. I therefore continue my chronicles in pencil.
Part two: The girl from the sky
After the awe-struck, sleep deprived day in Firenze, we finally arrived at the Florence Youth Hostel, ate a package meal (asparagus risotto - it was terrible) and slept. The sandman worked overtime that night.
At about 2:30 am, I found myself awake, screaming, my hand covering my mouth to stop me from doing so, and eyes staring at a girl sprawled on the floor next to my bed. I had been woken up by a massive crash involving the girl falling off the top bunk of the bed GG was sleeping in, and hitting her head against the bedside table. I thought she had died.
Soon enough, another girl appeared on the top bunk. Hearts palpitating, we managed to throw the two apologising, drunk English girls out of the room. I shut and locked the door, made sure I had the key with me, pushed the luggage against the door, and then GG and I sat and stared at each other.
What had just happened?
On closer inspection, we realised that they had been in the room for a bit, for the bathroom had been used. We were so dead to the world, we had no clue. How could we take care of ourselves if we were incapable of realising there were noisy intruders in the room. We couldn't sleep. The main worry - what if we slept too soundly again?
Well, there wasn't much that could be done so we tried to go back to bed. As we drifted into unconsciousness, we were alerted by a key rattling in the door again! What audacity. I got up, opened the door and told the girl off. Her excuse for the behaviour was that since her key didn't fit in the room she was assigned to, she simply tried other rooms and decided that she had the right to sleep in there. What cheek!
After having thrown them out for a second time, we found that turning the key halfway in the door would stop it from being pushed out the other side and that would prevent the room from being broken in a third time.
In the light of day, we saw the whole incident from a lighter perspective, but the crash had destroyed my ballpoint pen that lay on that bedside table. I therefore continue my chronicles in pencil.
Travels with GG
Firenze, the girl from the sky, and fire
Part one: Firenze, Toscana
We arrived sleep deprived and exhausted at 8 am at the Florence Youth Hostel, only to be told that we couldn't check in till 2 pm. There goes the long awaited nap, we thought. But, this is Firenze, and we have to make the most of it. So up Jack got, and home did trot (i.e.
we gathered forces, and marched forth after dumping the luggage).
We had hoped to catch some Zs on the bus from I'll Ciocco, but instead had a very interesting discussion on the unique properties of the brain transport proteins with a Stanford professor at 4 am.
The prospect of sleep on the train went out the window when Professor Clifford Slayman decided he had to tell us all the secrets to Firenze. He was so kind to recommend a restaurant where you get the best food in town. Across the river Arno from the Uffizzi Gallery, with an English-sounding name (erm..... English -sounding??? Food.....good???). Thank you very much, but me poor postdoc, I eat standing una slice pizza
Anyway, we were on the tourist route, so the first thing do do was look for a coffee. Boy, either I was too exhausted, or the cappuccino too good. I had to stop at two.
We then proceeded to the Duomo, Santa Maria Del Fiore, commissioned simply to show off. The Florentines were always competing with major cities for power, wealth, grandeur. Well, they sure don't have to worry about grandeur.
In general, you walk around the city gaping at the architecture, occassionally closing your mouth if you remember to.
Florence cannot be described easily.
Travels with GG
Il Ciocco, Toscana
Ditto as previous day. However, the perfect afternoon was somewhat dampened by the unwillingness to leave Il Ciocco the next night. Looking forward to the Gala Dinner tonight!
Ditto as previous day. However, the perfect afternoon was somewhat dampened by the unwillingness to leave Il Ciocco the next night. Looking forward to the Gala Dinner tonight!
Travels with GG
Il Ciocco, Toscana
After briefly considering options, we decided on doing nothing. Sunglasses, a book, a deck chair, the pool behind, a view of the Media Valle before us, and a light breeze to cool us off. Some attempts were made to capture the scene in watercolour. Spent most of the time looking over the towns, the mountains and thinking of nothing. A perfect afternoon well spent.
After briefly considering options, we decided on doing nothing. Sunglasses, a book, a deck chair, the pool behind, a view of the Media Valle before us, and a light breeze to cool us off. Some attempts were made to capture the scene in watercolour. Spent most of the time looking over the towns, the mountains and thinking of nothing. A perfect afternoon well spent.
Travels with GG
Barga, Toscana
It was a long hike via overgrown paths, through a sleepy town, over a brook, past ruins of an abandoned house and finally up a steep cobbled path that brought us to Barga. A small walled city, of course most everything was shut for the afternoon, and as we walked up and down the steep streets, we realised that we were crossed some piazzas more than once. No, we weren't lost, Barga was a small town. One of the loveliest places I have seen, and the ''most Scottish town in Italy''. Ice cream on the hot afternoon in the piazza by ''La Gelateria'' was well deserved. We moseyed back to the centre to find the waiting taxi and were driven back to Il Ciocco.
It was a long hike via overgrown paths, through a sleepy town, over a brook, past ruins of an abandoned house and finally up a steep cobbled path that brought us to Barga. A small walled city, of course most everything was shut for the afternoon, and as we walked up and down the steep streets, we realised that we were crossed some piazzas more than once. No, we weren't lost, Barga was a small town. One of the loveliest places I have seen, and the ''most Scottish town in Italy''. Ice cream on the hot afternoon in the piazza by ''La Gelateria'' was well deserved. We moseyed back to the centre to find the waiting taxi and were driven back to Il Ciocco.
Travels with GG
Treppignana, Toscana
A short hike from I'll Ciocco, no map, but a set of written directions. Debating between the well worn path and the shortcut behind the tree stump, we decided on the short cut which led us to the sleepy hamlet of Treppignana. The only sign of habitation - freshly washed laundry drying in the Tuscan sun.
Walking up the narrow streets making unexpected turns we felt we were intruders in this quiet village. A red vespa parked against a window, shutters closed for the afternoon siesta, completed the picture of a lazy Tuscan afternoon. My attempt to capture the scene on film (okay, digitally) resulted in angry looks from a grey haired septugenerian who appeared out of nowhere, pretending to check on the drying laundry.
It was perfect!
A short hike from I'll Ciocco, no map, but a set of written directions. Debating between the well worn path and the shortcut behind the tree stump, we decided on the short cut which led us to the sleepy hamlet of Treppignana. The only sign of habitation - freshly washed laundry drying in the Tuscan sun.
Walking up the narrow streets making unexpected turns we felt we were intruders in this quiet village. A red vespa parked against a window, shutters closed for the afternoon siesta, completed the picture of a lazy Tuscan afternoon. My attempt to capture the scene on film (okay, digitally) resulted in angry looks from a grey haired septugenerian who appeared out of nowhere, pretending to check on the drying laundry.
It was perfect!
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