Straight off our Switzerland high, Natalie and I headed south to Florence on the swankiest train we'd yet to ride.
Upon arriving in Florence, amidst the loud conversation and clothing, we quickly realized we weren't in Switzerland anymore. We hopped on the bus to go to our hostel Ostella Gallo De Oro.
The bus situation was a bit confusing as people seemed to just be getting on the bus - no ticket, no problem. Natalie and I briefly attempted to hand money to the Italian Fran Drescher who was operating the bus, but when she gave us The HAND we figured we better just sit down.
2 stops later two nefarious looking Italian ticket men hopped on the bus and began speaking rapid angry Italian to Natalie and I when we failed to produce the ticket we had been denied access to purchasing from the hairspray queen driving the vehicle (who might I point out was now openly laughing at us with the rest of the bus)
My mind instantly flashed to images from the movie Brokedown Palace and I wondered if Natalie or I would be the one to sacrifice ourselves to a lifetime in prison for the freedom of the other.
The men said we could not buy a ticket but needed to pay them 50 euros.
"Awww I get it". Being from California I understand how Mexico works and clearly these federali Italians wanted a bribe to not take us to an Italian prison where we would be forced to sleep in the same flee infested bed and urinate in front of each other (which was somewhat similar to our hostel experience but it wouldn't be by choice so not cool).
Natalie and I became instantly hysterical. If we were going to be dragged to an Italian prison, we would not go quietly. I opened my wallet and proceeded to give them everything i had - including loose coins and all my dignity which together equaled 48 euros as they has denied Natalie's Swiss francs. I scowled at them and demanded they rip up their piece of notebook paper which was all in Italian gibberish as I had paid their bribe in full (kind of).
The Italian federali ticket man then attempted to have me sign the carbon copy of my prison sentence, but having seen Brokedown palace - I knew better. As did Natalie, who was shouting at the top of her lungs, "DON'T SIGN IT!" and waiving her arms hysterically.
The federali, clearly upset that I had outsmarted him in his attempt to have me sign my lifetime sentence and agreement of guilt, signed it for me, handed it to me, and rolled his eyes as the entire bus mocked us and laughed at us.
Later on, we found out upon checking in at our hostel that it was a violation ticket (not a bribe to a corrupt police force) and they had actually allowed us to only pay half of the actual fine (50 euros per person) and the piece of paper (my believed lifetime sentence) was our receipt for paying.
We also found out at our hostel that unlike in every other country, bus tickets are not purchased from the driver but rather at intuitive places like tobacco shops and bars.
After the incident, we rode the bus for another 30 minutes (afraid to get off and penniless having given our feigned federali everything we owned besides Natalie's worthless Swiss francs) until we finally made it back to the train station. We contemplated hopping back on the train and returning to Switzerland, but decided (in fear of ending up back in France ) to stay.
We took a taxi to our hostel and was greeted warmly by a lovely blond Italian hippy who gave us juice and walked us next door to our room. After a brief decompression, Natalie and I decided to cure our woes with every woman's cure - carbs and wine.
We would like to give a shout out to our virtual friend Lorenzo for this really changed the tune of our time in Florence and set the stage for the rest of our visit. Lorenzo, who lives in Florence. was introduced to me via Facebook by my friend Trish and took the time to send us amazing recommendations for the best food and drink spots. We followed his pizza suggestion (Pizzaria Le Campogne) where we were greeted by the most old delightful Italian man I have ever met. We drank liters of wine and ate the most amazing pizza and delectables I've ever tasted. It was in that moment that we were first able to laugh about our bus incident, realize our idiocy, and fall in love with this beautiful city and the beautiful people that inhabit it. I don't know what we ate outside of the pizza, but it pretty much tasted like edible ecstasy so if you're ever in Florence go there.
Natalie and I may have gone a bit overboard on the $4.50 liters of wine (after Switzerland it was like spending pennies) so we staggered home with our full bellies for a quick siesta which turned into a 12-hour knockout hibernation. Apparently Natalie poked me at some point, but I snorted and grunted my disapproval.
The next morning Natalie and I awoke to the hot Florentine sun beating through our unconditioned room. It was like a scene from every creepy teenage boys fantasy as we both had unwittingly stripped into nothing in our twin bed in at attempt to not to melt into the mattress.
Having awoke to our naked bodies in bed together, we became instantly uncomfortable and set out to see some sites. We weren't entirely sure if we were headed in the right direction for the Michelangelo, but then we saw 200 Asian tourists in a mass exodus from a nearby hill and felt instantly assured.
After our hour long hike in our flip flops, Natalie and I reached the infamous naked man statue only to discover that it was closed for the evenings planned fireworks festivities.
We hiked back down (devastated and starving), had a lackluster lunch, and then headed to the Gelateria Vivaldi, a recommendation from Bob. the special friend I had met last year in Vegas whose memory had helped inspire me to bring my desire for travel to fruition. The Gelateria was owned by the father of his close friend Leo (known exclusively throughout Florence as "the ice cream man").
Let me say, having sampled nearly every gelato place in Florence by the end of our trip, the Gelatoria Vivaldi was by far the best. Not only did they have the best gelato (try the coconut - seriously it'll blow your palette), but they have artsy nudey crotch shots (primarily men - heyyy ladies!) all over the sitting area which (fun fact) used to be a church. Natalie and I took a particular liking to the life size black and white portrait of the naked man artistically holding a croissant over his junk. What up
After saturating our palette, we walked outside and realized it was so hot that we should just kill ourselves. We saw a pathetic excuse for a beach across the bridge, but it looked more like incentive suicide by tanning and polluted water. We hitched a cab, headed back to the hostel, and I proceeded to lay face down on the tile floor naked until sundown when I could once again bare the thought of going outside.
Natalie, ever the class act, suffered through on the bed.
Like the nocturnal animals we had become, we arose with the setting sun, bathed, and set out to meet Leo (the ice cream man).
We had yet to actually meet Leo, but Bob had introduced us via Facebook and per the ice cream man's instructions we were to meet him on the street corner by our hostel.
I recognized Leo instantly from his photos on Facebook. In truth, the kid looks more like an Italian prince than an ice cream man with his quad-lingual intellect skills, floofy Disney prince hair, and impeccable taste in clothes. Natalie and I were instantly delighted beyond imagination to discover that Leo and his soon to be arriving comrade Felix would be taking us out via Scooter which was on our both of our Italy to-do lists.
Leo, the Italian prince, and Felix, who we have now nicknamed the German cat due to his German roots and funny name, took us on the backs of their scooters through the busy streets of Florence to see the fireworks display which was happening at 10.
We parked the scooters on a nearby hill overlooking the Michelangelo and, true to his classy Medici roots (or so I can only imagine) floofy haired Leo took off and returned with a bottle of chilled Proseco for us to share and enjoy during the fireworks. (I couldn't make this stuff up)
After the fireworks, the prince and the cat took us to the princes beautiful Italian castle (just kidding it was a Villa, but it was awesome nonetheless) where we drank wine at the foot of his infinity pool alongside his dog Artu (named after King Arthur... obviously)
We then headed out for some Italian nightlife -or we thought as the boys told us they'd be taking us to their favorite bar.
Well the boys favorite bar is actually, is apparently, an Irish pub. Think Deveers circa 2012. Our German and Italian friend may have been the only non-Americans in there. Nonetheless, everyone was warm and welcoming and we had a good time.
Around 2am, Felix, the bright blue eyed blond German who in actuality looked nothing like a cat, offered to walk us home (knowing that were we to walk ourselves we would be lost forever.).
Around 3:30am, an hour and a half into our 15 minute walk home we realized that Felix had no idea where he was going.
That said, Natalie and I hardly noticed how much time or calories had passed because Felix was not only handsome, but entertained us mercilessly.
We told Felix about our encounter with the Russians in London and he beguiled us with such one-liners that we've been repeating ever since. Apparently in Europe, two handed junk grabs are still not cool but "a little tug is ok".
As we wandered the streets we came across a large swinging clock. In our Italian bliss Natalie galloped to the clock wanting to impress our new friend with her agility and grace by swinging on the clock like a magazine cover. What happened next couldn't have been farther from her aspirations as mid stride she smacked into the most well windexed glass wall I've ever seen.
She admitted to me later that she had to tell herself not to cry in front of the foreigner.
As I walked and Natalie wobbled home, we finally found our hostel and bid our new friend goodbye.
The next morning we arose, covered in each other's sweat (air conditioning apparently hasn't made it's way here yet).
We went to a close by restaurant and had probably the worst meal in Italy. (San Marco bar & cafe - AVOID). So bad in fact that Natalie said shortly after finishing the meal I looked at her in a panic. I spent the next 20 minutes back at the hostel vomiting everything I had consumed. Gross
With my now empty and much happier tummy, we made our second and much more successful attempt to leave the city. Shopping in Florence is a blast and I highly recommend it. We shopped, ate gelato, and wandered the city until dinner which is where and when we had our best and most romantic meal in Italy (Florentine steak, wine, and Gorgonzola gnocchi by candlelight ....so so good).
As this was our last evening in Florence, we opted to have a lavish meal and an even more lavish evening at the nightclub Flo' which overlooks the city and is right next to the statue. Felix, our new German friend, offered to accompany us.
When we got to Flo' it was exactly what you would imagine a posh Italian nightclub would look like - and by that I mean classy with a serious Guido twist. The age range was 18-22 and 40-70, (no in between) the dress code was bedazzled jeans, white t-shirts, and scarves. Hair gel was mandatory- extra points for extra inches of hair. As this was a Wednesday night, Felix was also quick to inform us that everyone here was undoubtedly unemployed. I quickly began to understand why this was the hot spot for the cast of jersey shore when they did that one random season in Italy.
Nevertheless, the club was actually a blast and I would highly recommend it. I imagine if you have the opportunity to go during the weekend that it's filled with much more amiable men too.
Felix, after seeing our comical expressions from the man crop, immediately began graciously plowing us with drinks. After a few martinis, I spotted a young Venezuelan/Italian version of Scott Foley and trotted off to the dance floor with him. The kid didn't speak any English, so we had to converse solely in Spanish where I learned he was a legitimate child (22), enjoyed dancing, thought I was very attractive, and was visiting from another town an hour away (yet another nod to my Christian brothers education which was now helping me drunkedly pick up men in foreign languages)
Though the beautiful young Scott Foley was (as I later referred to him) "un niño" and we could only converse in elementary Spanish, he was also the only attractive man in the entire nightclub save Felix so I decided to continue entertaining myself with his company until we decided to leave.
Meanwhile Felix was entertaining Natalie with every 6-year old girls dream which is of course to be twirled nonstop like a ballerina. God bless martinis.
After Natalie finally got dizzy from her 200 twirls, I bid a quick ciao to my dancing partner and flo' and headed home.
The next morning we left Florence to head coastal for some beach at cinque terre, but Florence is not the type of city you say goodbye to easily. It is the type of city that is so full of beauty, delightful satiation, and charm that anything could happen. It is the type of city you fall in love with instantly so...
Chill the Prosecco, gas up the Vespas, and check the blog next week... As there may be surprises in store.
In the words of the great Robert Frost..."we've got promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep".
Ciao for now lovely Florence! Until next time!
Upon arriving in Florence, amidst the loud conversation and clothing, we quickly realized we weren't in Switzerland anymore. We hopped on the bus to go to our hostel Ostella Gallo De Oro.
The bus situation was a bit confusing as people seemed to just be getting on the bus - no ticket, no problem. Natalie and I briefly attempted to hand money to the Italian Fran Drescher who was operating the bus, but when she gave us The HAND we figured we better just sit down.
2 stops later two nefarious looking Italian ticket men hopped on the bus and began speaking rapid angry Italian to Natalie and I when we failed to produce the ticket we had been denied access to purchasing from the hairspray queen driving the vehicle (who might I point out was now openly laughing at us with the rest of the bus)
My mind instantly flashed to images from the movie Brokedown Palace and I wondered if Natalie or I would be the one to sacrifice ourselves to a lifetime in prison for the freedom of the other.
The men said we could not buy a ticket but needed to pay them 50 euros.
"Awww I get it". Being from California I understand how Mexico works and clearly these federali Italians wanted a bribe to not take us to an Italian prison where we would be forced to sleep in the same flee infested bed and urinate in front of each other (which was somewhat similar to our hostel experience but it wouldn't be by choice so not cool).
Natalie and I became instantly hysterical. If we were going to be dragged to an Italian prison, we would not go quietly. I opened my wallet and proceeded to give them everything i had - including loose coins and all my dignity which together equaled 48 euros as they has denied Natalie's Swiss francs. I scowled at them and demanded they rip up their piece of notebook paper which was all in Italian gibberish as I had paid their bribe in full (kind of).
The Italian federali ticket man then attempted to have me sign the carbon copy of my prison sentence, but having seen Brokedown palace - I knew better. As did Natalie, who was shouting at the top of her lungs, "DON'T SIGN IT!" and waiving her arms hysterically.
The federali, clearly upset that I had outsmarted him in his attempt to have me sign my lifetime sentence and agreement of guilt, signed it for me, handed it to me, and rolled his eyes as the entire bus mocked us and laughed at us.
Later on, we found out upon checking in at our hostel that it was a violation ticket (not a bribe to a corrupt police force) and they had actually allowed us to only pay half of the actual fine (50 euros per person) and the piece of paper (my believed lifetime sentence) was our receipt for paying.
We also found out at our hostel that unlike in every other country, bus tickets are not purchased from the driver but rather at intuitive places like tobacco shops and bars.
After the incident, we rode the bus for another 30 minutes (afraid to get off and penniless having given our feigned federali everything we owned besides Natalie's worthless Swiss francs) until we finally made it back to the train station. We contemplated hopping back on the train and returning to Switzerland, but decided (in fear of ending up back in France ) to stay.
We took a taxi to our hostel and was greeted warmly by a lovely blond Italian hippy who gave us juice and walked us next door to our room. After a brief decompression, Natalie and I decided to cure our woes with every woman's cure - carbs and wine.
We would like to give a shout out to our virtual friend Lorenzo for this really changed the tune of our time in Florence and set the stage for the rest of our visit. Lorenzo, who lives in Florence. was introduced to me via Facebook by my friend Trish and took the time to send us amazing recommendations for the best food and drink spots. We followed his pizza suggestion (Pizzaria Le Campogne) where we were greeted by the most old delightful Italian man I have ever met. We drank liters of wine and ate the most amazing pizza and delectables I've ever tasted. It was in that moment that we were first able to laugh about our bus incident, realize our idiocy, and fall in love with this beautiful city and the beautiful people that inhabit it. I don't know what we ate outside of the pizza, but it pretty much tasted like edible ecstasy so if you're ever in Florence go there.
Natalie and I may have gone a bit overboard on the $4.50 liters of wine (after Switzerland it was like spending pennies) so we staggered home with our full bellies for a quick siesta which turned into a 12-hour knockout hibernation. Apparently Natalie poked me at some point, but I snorted and grunted my disapproval.
The next morning Natalie and I awoke to the hot Florentine sun beating through our unconditioned room. It was like a scene from every creepy teenage boys fantasy as we both had unwittingly stripped into nothing in our twin bed in at attempt to not to melt into the mattress.
Having awoke to our naked bodies in bed together, we became instantly uncomfortable and set out to see some sites. We weren't entirely sure if we were headed in the right direction for the Michelangelo, but then we saw 200 Asian tourists in a mass exodus from a nearby hill and felt instantly assured.
After our hour long hike in our flip flops, Natalie and I reached the infamous naked man statue only to discover that it was closed for the evenings planned fireworks festivities.
We hiked back down (devastated and starving), had a lackluster lunch, and then headed to the Gelateria Vivaldi, a recommendation from Bob. the special friend I had met last year in Vegas whose memory had helped inspire me to bring my desire for travel to fruition. The Gelateria was owned by the father of his close friend Leo (known exclusively throughout Florence as "the ice cream man").
Let me say, having sampled nearly every gelato place in Florence by the end of our trip, the Gelatoria Vivaldi was by far the best. Not only did they have the best gelato (try the coconut - seriously it'll blow your palette), but they have artsy nudey crotch shots (primarily men - heyyy ladies!) all over the sitting area which (fun fact) used to be a church. Natalie and I took a particular liking to the life size black and white portrait of the naked man artistically holding a croissant over his junk. What up
(Gelato and male frontals...two of the main reasons to visit this place)
After saturating our palette, we walked outside and realized it was so hot that we should just kill ourselves. We saw a pathetic excuse for a beach across the bridge, but it looked more like incentive suicide by tanning and polluted water. We hitched a cab, headed back to the hostel, and I proceeded to lay face down on the tile floor naked until sundown when I could once again bare the thought of going outside.
Natalie, ever the class act, suffered through on the bed.
Like the nocturnal animals we had become, we arose with the setting sun, bathed, and set out to meet Leo (the ice cream man).
We had yet to actually meet Leo, but Bob had introduced us via Facebook and per the ice cream man's instructions we were to meet him on the street corner by our hostel.
I recognized Leo instantly from his photos on Facebook. In truth, the kid looks more like an Italian prince than an ice cream man with his quad-lingual intellect skills, floofy Disney prince hair, and impeccable taste in clothes. Natalie and I were instantly delighted beyond imagination to discover that Leo and his soon to be arriving comrade Felix would be taking us out via Scooter which was on our both of our Italy to-do lists.
Leo, the Italian prince, and Felix, who we have now nicknamed the German cat due to his German roots and funny name, took us on the backs of their scooters through the busy streets of Florence to see the fireworks display which was happening at 10.
We parked the scooters on a nearby hill overlooking the Michelangelo and, true to his classy Medici roots (or so I can only imagine) floofy haired Leo took off and returned with a bottle of chilled Proseco for us to share and enjoy during the fireworks. (I couldn't make this stuff up)
(Here's Natalie ...clearly a little drunk and extremely happy)
After the fireworks, the prince and the cat took us to the princes beautiful Italian castle (just kidding it was a Villa, but it was awesome nonetheless) where we drank wine at the foot of his infinity pool alongside his dog Artu (named after King Arthur... obviously)
We then headed out for some Italian nightlife -or we thought as the boys told us they'd be taking us to their favorite bar.
Well the boys favorite bar is actually, is apparently, an Irish pub. Think Deveers circa 2012. Our German and Italian friend may have been the only non-Americans in there. Nonetheless, everyone was warm and welcoming and we had a good time.
Around 2am, Felix, the bright blue eyed blond German who in actuality looked nothing like a cat, offered to walk us home (knowing that were we to walk ourselves we would be lost forever.).
Around 3:30am, an hour and a half into our 15 minute walk home we realized that Felix had no idea where he was going.
That said, Natalie and I hardly noticed how much time or calories had passed because Felix was not only handsome, but entertained us mercilessly.
We told Felix about our encounter with the Russians in London and he beguiled us with such one-liners that we've been repeating ever since. Apparently in Europe, two handed junk grabs are still not cool but "a little tug is ok".
As we wandered the streets we came across a large swinging clock. In our Italian bliss Natalie galloped to the clock wanting to impress our new friend with her agility and grace by swinging on the clock like a magazine cover. What happened next couldn't have been farther from her aspirations as mid stride she smacked into the most well windexed glass wall I've ever seen.
She admitted to me later that she had to tell herself not to cry in front of the foreigner.
As I walked and Natalie wobbled home, we finally found our hostel and bid our new friend goodbye.
The next morning we arose, covered in each other's sweat (air conditioning apparently hasn't made it's way here yet).
We went to a close by restaurant and had probably the worst meal in Italy. (San Marco bar & cafe - AVOID). So bad in fact that Natalie said shortly after finishing the meal I looked at her in a panic. I spent the next 20 minutes back at the hostel vomiting everything I had consumed. Gross
With my now empty and much happier tummy, we made our second and much more successful attempt to leave the city. Shopping in Florence is a blast and I highly recommend it. We shopped, ate gelato, and wandered the city until dinner which is where and when we had our best and most romantic meal in Italy (Florentine steak, wine, and Gorgonzola gnocchi by candlelight ....so so good).
As this was our last evening in Florence, we opted to have a lavish meal and an even more lavish evening at the nightclub Flo' which overlooks the city and is right next to the statue. Felix, our new German friend, offered to accompany us.
(Our awesome friend Felix aka our German Cat)
When we got to Flo' it was exactly what you would imagine a posh Italian nightclub would look like - and by that I mean classy with a serious Guido twist. The age range was 18-22 and 40-70, (no in between) the dress code was bedazzled jeans, white t-shirts, and scarves. Hair gel was mandatory- extra points for extra inches of hair. As this was a Wednesday night, Felix was also quick to inform us that everyone here was undoubtedly unemployed. I quickly began to understand why this was the hot spot for the cast of jersey shore when they did that one random season in Italy.
(Us getting our Flo' On)
Nevertheless, the club was actually a blast and I would highly recommend it. I imagine if you have the opportunity to go during the weekend that it's filled with much more amiable men too.
Felix, after seeing our comical expressions from the man crop, immediately began graciously plowing us with drinks. After a few martinis, I spotted a young Venezuelan/Italian version of Scott Foley and trotted off to the dance floor with him. The kid didn't speak any English, so we had to converse solely in Spanish where I learned he was a legitimate child (22), enjoyed dancing, thought I was very attractive, and was visiting from another town an hour away (yet another nod to my Christian brothers education which was now helping me drunkedly pick up men in foreign languages)
Though the beautiful young Scott Foley was (as I later referred to him) "un niño" and we could only converse in elementary Spanish, he was also the only attractive man in the entire nightclub save Felix so I decided to continue entertaining myself with his company until we decided to leave.
Meanwhile Felix was entertaining Natalie with every 6-year old girls dream which is of course to be twirled nonstop like a ballerina. God bless martinis.
After Natalie finally got dizzy from her 200 twirls, I bid a quick ciao to my dancing partner and flo' and headed home.
The next morning we left Florence to head coastal for some beach at cinque terre, but Florence is not the type of city you say goodbye to easily. It is the type of city that is so full of beauty, delightful satiation, and charm that anything could happen. It is the type of city you fall in love with instantly so...
Chill the Prosecco, gas up the Vespas, and check the blog next week... As there may be surprises in store.
In the words of the great Robert Frost..."we've got promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep".
Ciao for now lovely Florence! Until next time!
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