Florence or is it Firenze?

Summary

The author recounts a day trip to Florence, Italy, experiencing challenges with the city's Italian name, 'Firenze,' and visiting local attractions despite back pain.

Abstract

The author, initially confused by the Italian name 'Firenze' for Florence, embarks on an early morning journey from Riomaggiore to Florence. Despite battling severe back pain, the author visits several attractions, including the Pont Vecchio, Museum of Costumes, Museum of Modern Art, Silver Museum, and Boboli Gardens. The museums are described as disappointing, with poor layouts and minimal explanations, although the buildings' ceilings are noted for their beauty. The author finds solace in the Boboli Gardens, resting on a bench overlooking the city and the Duomo. The day ends with a return to Riomaggiore, a meal of gnocchi, and plans for the next day's travel to San Gimignano.

Opinions

The author finds the Italian practice of naming cities differently from their English counterparts, such as 'Firenze' for Florence, to be initially confusing.
The author is critical of the museums visited in Florence, describing them as poorly planned and uninformative, with overly protective guards.
The author appreciates the aesthetic beauty of the museum buildings' ceilings but is frustrated by the prohibition of photography within the museums.
The Boboli Gardens are seen as a peaceful retreat, providing a space for the author to rest and enjoy the scenery despite physical discomfort.
The author expresses a pragmatic approach to dining while traveling, opting for the familiarity and convenience of McDonald's when in a hurry and low on cash.
There is a sense of disappointment in not being able to visit the Uffizi Gallery or see the statue of David due to time constraints and physical pain.
The author looks forward to the next day's travel, indicating a positive outlook despite the day's challenges.

I was confused.

For some unknown reason, Florence is called Firenze here in Italy. Tuscany is Toscano, Genoa is Genova, Rome is Roma, Milan is Milano, Turin is Torino, Venice is Venezia, and Naples is Napoli to name a few. Most are recognizable — but not Firenze, especially if you pronounce it like an Australian — Fire-Ends — sounds nothing like Florence. Of course, this was when we were in Australia planning our trip from the Eurail map.

Why did the English decide to Anglicize Italian names? Surely they are not too difficult to pronounce? Unlike San Gimignano (Giminyano) which I have only just managed to get my tongue around, but which we have affectionately named San Jim.

I woke up at the crack of dawn (actually way before dawn — it was still pitch black walking down to the station in Riomaggiore), had a quick cuppa and headed off to Florence. Changing trains at La Spezia and Pisa, I arrived in Florence just after 9.30 am. Just as well I had an early start. I grabbed a ham and egg McMuffin and a cappuccino shake which were delicious. I generally don’t eat McDonald’s when I’m travelling but good ol’ Maccas hits the spot when you’re in a hurry and don’t have cash.

The Pont Vecchio

I walked over the Arno River via the Pont Vecchio which was just a string of gold jewellery shops in whose windows I wasn’t keen to look as I am not a good window-shopper. It’s just encouragement for me to spend thousands, which I really don’t want to do, nor do I have, for that matter.

Of all days, my back decided it had had enough — the worst back pain I’ve had this trip — but I managed to soldier on as I’m only here for one day. I dragged myself through the Museum of Costumes, the Museum of Modern Art, and the Silver Museum.

Well, maybe my opinion was tinged by my pain, but they were the crappiest museums I have ever seen — no plan, guards in every room, who picked me up every time I leaned on the wall to straighten my back, dead-end rooms, and very little explanation of anything.

I thought maybe it was a collection of precious but extremely ugly objets d’art that had been given to the museum by Florentine families because the younger generation could not stand looking at them in their house any longer! The best thing about all of these museums was the building itself — the ceilings were truly beautiful, but no one was allowed to take photos so I don’t have any images to show you.

Boboli Gardens

Another plus was the ticket also gave me entry to the Boboli Gardens which were a lovely open space with statues and trees lining the pathways. I could walk no longer so collapsed on a bench seat overlooking Florence and the Duomo. I wanted to lie down to straighten my back but thought if I did, I wouldn’t be able to move from that position. I did want to see the grottoes though, but only managed one. It was closed but I could see in and take photos — very pretty.

I headed back to the station to Maccas as I know they take credit card. I thought food might cure my pain, or at least take the edge off it, so I ordered a chicken wrap, a salad, chips and a cappuccino shake. The salad turned out to be a Caesar salad with a huge breast of chicken so to say I was full would be an understatement.

I didn’t see the Uffizi Gallery or the famous statue of David — there’s only so much you can do in a day.

The train home was longer than the train there, or maybe it just felt like that, but I arrived home to a lovely meal of gnocchi that Stacey had cooked. And of course, more red wine!

Planning to catch the early train (again) to San Gimignano tomorrow