A Florentine romance begins

We arrive by train into a bustling station full of movement, people of all ages and ethnicities, and it’s school holidays so there are lots of families. Well dressed families, Italian I’m guessing, coming for a shopping trip. Wise choice, as Florence has a very posh shopping district. We trundle our suitcases through the busy streets to our hotel. This accommodation choice is another Phillippian marvel, close to the action, beautiful, and makes me feel like I’m in another world. The room we get is really stunning with twin beds and a marble tiled bathroom. Two red chairs where we sit back and feel like queens.

Phil has booked tickets to the major museum. Our next two hours will be devoted to the older art, and it doesn’t disappoint. But it does start to become familiar - there are many versions of the same biblical scenes, stories, Greek myths and horrors. 


I’ll speak for myself and say that I found the tourist style of sightseeing rather annoying. We went to this museum at 3pm with the intention of getting one of three museum areas done (older art) while we save time tomorrow morning for the others (Modern art and costumes). But the queues are long and wearisome. On entry we meet with three flights of stairs. Older people stare up them with great trepidation. If they make it up, they might last another ten minutes before needing an ambulance.


I’ll post some art photos to avoid sounding ungrateful. I’m truly not!








Highlights for me are the beginnings of a next phase - a Da Vinci painting, unfinished, but with a new gaze, centre of interest, and facial expression. A couple of portraits that look photographic. A particular highlight was the Raffaello ‘Madonna of the Goldfinch’ - a cropped, tiled, framed version of which I have had since age 11, a gift from mum, and has always been a treasure. Another, that is difficult to view and photograph because of the spotlight above it, speaks of a new dawn and a new world of revolution as the man/child raises his arm and avoids the audience’s gaze because what’s about to happen is too important for fanfare. Which the artist attempts to correct in history.


Art done for the day, we choose to try the sister hotel around the corner for the evening dinner because it has a rooftop terrace. We dress up, I wear my silk scarf to cover my mess of a hairdo and we enjoy each other’s company, discussing years’ worth of memories and laughs.


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