Traveling by train in Italy is an experience of contrasts.  We got to the station early in the morning, for the direct train to Florence via Pisa and discovered a huge line at the ticket counter.  While Audrey and I inched our way forward by millimeters, Tom and Rob tried ticket machine after ticket machine, in a vain attempt to get us out of the line.  No go.

Two agents were working the booth.  The man on the right was serving a woman and her sons, and seemed totally confused by his computer, and what he was supposed to do.  His colleague, a woman at the window on the left, got up continually, in slow motion, to go over to his chair, stare at his computer, bang a few keys, and sloooowly make her way back to her own chair.  Only to get up again a moment later.  Five or six people in front of us were served in this desultory manner, until we finally got our tickets and walked briskly down the stairs to find our binario, or platform.

Once you’re on the train, the ride is fast, comfortable, and delightful.  The Tuscan landscape sped by, and within about an hour and a half, we were in Florence.   We couldn’t get into our hotel rooms yet, but the hotel promised to store our bags and put them into our rooms before we returned from visiting La Galleria dell’Accademia.

Since it wasn’t quite time to go to the Gallery, we walked about,  took a short walk across the Ponte Vecchio, had lunch in the square of the Duomo, and walked over to wonder at the fantastic bronze doors of the Baptistry, unfortunately covered by a cloth to hide the renovations being done on the exterior.  The Duomo is so fabulously complex in its design, you really wonder at the skill in inserting all those thousands of multicolored pieces of marble into its light and airy facade.

But now it was time to see the David.  Lines are long, even with pre-reserved tickets, but at least with our voucher, we could get our tickets for our timed entry, and we did indeed get in on time.  None of us could figure out why, having bought the tickets, we just didn’t get the tickets themselves.

It was hot (this is in the second week of September), and the crowds were merciless, but the David is so perfect, every line of his marble body full of grace and power, the frank and open beauty of his humanity.  Perhaps this is one of the gifts of art – the insight of the artist into the nature of beauty is made clear to the rest of us.

One of my own personal wishes was to buy, if I could, a leather jacket, and we managed that at Peruzzi’s, one of the landmark leather shops in the city.  The quality of the leather goods was very fine, the finishes perfect, another facet of artistry in Florence.

Finally, feeling the need to get off our feet for a bit, we walked back to the hotel, Hotel Albani, very close to the train station, and found our luggage, as promised, already in our rooms.  My jacket had needed an alteration, and showed up, perfectly done, delivered to the hotel that evening.