After a week in the Dolomites, where the nights were chilly and the days ranged from sunny-but-cool to rain, going back to full summer climes was an adjustment. This was readily apparent when we descended out of the mountains onto the flatlands near Verona and stopped for lunch in an autostrada rest area. Finding a picnic table in the shade was slim pickings.
We were now a smidgen past halfway through the trip. Our Italian was becoming more adept (barely). We had the automated tollbooths wired (barely). Terry was fully smitten with the Audi and was doing all the driving. I was full-time navigator—which means I also controlled the music (hypothetically). I had it all dialed in, a killer soundtrack with driving directions. “Vai dritto a Firenze!!” We got this.
~~~~~~~
It's all about the Car
Ernest Hemingway once said, “There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games.” He could be right. As a young teen, before I could drive, my pal, Randy, and I bought a used racing go-kart with our paper route money. We were obsessed with auto racing; followed it closely; went to see the movie Grand Prix at the theater three times. We’d get Randy’s older sister to drive us to the race track, and we’d zip around the course in our screaming kart and pretend we were Dan Gurney or Mario Andretti… Until Randy crashed it. He escaped serious injury, but the kart was a near-complete loss. Our parents flipped out: they had thought we were buying a putt-putt kiddie kart, not a mini-rocket on wheels.
“No more racing,” my mom said firmly. “It’s too dangerous.”
So, I took up mountaineering.
Ter and I were southbound on Autostrada 22 when I pitched the idea of a side trip; something that would break up the all-day drive. The Ferrari factory was coming up soon, not far off the highway. And it had a cool museum. I mean, how could you possibly go to Italy and drive RIGHT BY THE FERRARI FACTORY and not stop? Right? I had to really sell it, because my wife is completely indifferent and practical when it comes to cars. If I gave her a choice between a Ferrari F12 Berlinetta or a Mazda 3 hatchback for her birthday… She’d pick the Mazda. Because it has cup holders. And besides, what do you need 730 horsepower for anyway?
Much to my surprise, she said: “Sure, let's go see it.”
That’s true love.
We turned off the A22 in Modena and drove through industrial parks and vast sunflower fields to the small town of Maranello. The area is renowned for its balsamic vinegar, and the opera maestro, Luciano Pavarotti, grew up not far from here. But Maranello itself is mostly known as the headquarters of Enzo Ferrari’s automotive legacy. The Museo Ferrari resides in a sleek, glass and steel building, just around the corner from the production car factory and racing complex (including their own private race track!). Inside you’ll find a cornucopia of sports cars; race cars; touring cars; old classics... even Enzo’s first office desk. It’s all here; enhanced with photographs and history. Even my wife, the automobile pragmatist, came away impressed. Though I’m confident she still prefers her Mazda 3 hatchback. It has cup holders.
Yeah, baby! |
F12 Berlinetta... Limited production from 2012 thru 2017. Puts out 730 horsepower. The ultimate "date car." Over my price range. (way over) |
The V12 power plant. |
588 GT that competed in 24 Hours of LeMans in 2017. Over the years, Ferrari has won 14 Sports Car World Championships, including 8 victories of the 24 Hours of LeMans. |
Enzo with F1 driver Gilles Villeneuve - 1979 |
Firenze
The Medieval streets of bustling old-town Florence are no wider than an alley and navigating them in a car is taxing, especially when you’re preoccupied with searching for your hotel, half lost, dodging motor scooters and pedestrians. As in Venice, mapping directions via iPhone is next to useless in the slot-canyon streets. And when we at last found the unpretentious Hotel Balcony—a simple blue sign over a glass door—we had fifteen minutes to unload before an attendant whisked our car away to God knows where for the next three days. That said, checking into the hotel was a breeze.
Julius Caesar founded a military garrison here on the Arno River in 59 BC and called the settlement Florentia. In time, the garrison would become a village, and the village became a town, and the town became a vibrant city-state. By the 14th century, the Republic of Florence was printing its own gold coins, called florins, and the Medici Bank was the most prosperous and respected bank in Europe. Medici: you’ll be hearing that name frequently here. That’s because the Medici family pretty much greased the wheels for the Italian Renaissance—and Florence would be its epicenter.
A selfie from the Ponte Vecchio. |
“Perseus with Head of Medusa” by Benvenuto Cellini, 1554. Cosimo I de' Medici commissioned the bronze sculpture, as well as many of the other works on display in the Piazza della Signoria. |
Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore on a warm summer night. Magical. |
Ice Cream Espionage
Okay, here’s the scoop. I like ice cream. And by now, we had bellied up to gelato parlors everywhere we went: Venice; Cortina; Canazei… In Venice, there was an ice cream shop on every block. But here in Florence, there’s TWO on every block! What gives? Some scholars (ice-creamologists?) contend that the precursor to ice cream dates back thousands of years to China, and that the recipe was brought to Europe in the Marco Polo days. Maybe. But the first documentation of people making ice cream was in 16th-century Florence—which must’ve been difficult, because there were no electric freezers back then. Clearly it was top secret: If you could make ice cream, you could rule the world. I get it.
Enter Ruggeri, a Florentine butcher and part-time chef who participated in a food contest sponsored by the Medici family. The challenge was simple: Prepare an unconventional dish that had never been tasted before in Florence. The Medici frequently entertained, so they were always looking for something new to amaze their influential guests. Ruggeri prepared a creamy, iced concoction with a fruity taste. He won the contest and was brought onto the Medici court so that he wouldn’t share his yummy dessert with anyone else.
Catherine de’ Medici, Queen of France and gelato junkie. |
Enter Catherine de’ Medici. She was a child when she sampled Ruggeri’s top-secret dessert for the first time, and she was hooked (I can relate to Catherine). In fact, when she married the Duke of Orleans in 1533 and moved to France, she took Ruggeri with her. In this way, ice cream remained the secret dessert for French royalty. Or so she thought.
Enter Bernardo Buontalenti, a brilliant Florentine architect, painter, sculptor… and party planner for the Medici. In 1559, Buontalenti was tasked with preparing a lavish feast and stage performance for Cosimo I de' Medici and his esteemed guests. One of the big surprises of the evening was the dessert: iced cream made from milk, honey, egg yolks, and thin slices of orange and Bergamotto lemon for a burst of flavor. It was a huge hit and the people clamored for more. Meanwhile, Catherine—who by now was Queen of France—was probably thinking: “What the…?” So much for top secrets. You can still get that original ice cream flavor in Florence today. It's called "Buontalenti".
Masters of the Renaissance
Florentines had referred to it as “rinascimento,” which roughly means rebirth or revival. But it wouldn’t be until the 19th century before a French historian used the term “Renaissance” to define the era, and the name stuck. It was that 300-year transition when Western civilization crawled out of the Dark Ages; an awakening of intellect, art, and science. The proto-Renaissance poet and theorist, Dante, stood at the vanguard. He was a citizen of the Florentine republic. So too, Leonardo da Vinci. And Michelangelo. And Galileo... The roster is staggering. From Florence, the “rinascimento” would fan across Italy and most of Europe. As Peter Gabriel once said: "You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire."
But enough of the syrupy history lesson. You get the drift. Each morning, Terry and I would lace up our walking shoes and hoof it all over the old city, visiting museums; cathedrals; piazzas. There was art to marvel everywhere we turned. So, let’s get started…
The Uffizi Gallery. |
GALLERIA UFFIZI
The Uffizi has the largest assemblage of Italian Renaissance art in the world, much of it collected by the House of Medici during the 16th and 17th centuries. The building, completed in 1581, served as offices for government magistrates and Medici businesses, while the top floor functioned as an art gallery and banquet hall for the Medici to entertain guests. Today it is dedicated entirely to art.
My personal Top Five in chronological order…
“Medusa” by Caravaggio - 1597 Cutting-edge art here: a 16th-century personification of Ozzy Osbourne. Caravaggio was a pioneer of the new emerging Baroque style, and he was commissioned to do this work as a gift for Ferdinando I de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany. |
ACADAMIA DI FIRENZE
Founded in 1784, the Academy is smaller than the Uffizi, specializing in Florentine artists. It is also the home of Michelangelo’s iconic “David”. Other sculptures by Michelangelo include the four half-finished works known as “The Four Prisoners”, which are quite extraordinary in the fact that you can see the life-like figures begin to emerge from giant blocks of marble. The man was a genius with a hammer and chisel.
MUSEO GALILEO
The heart of the museum is Galileo Galilei, father of observational astronomy, modern physics, and the scientific method. The first floor is devoted to the Medici collection of instruments that had belonged to Galileo and others, reiterating the crucial role that the House of Medici played in supporting the advancement of early science. Galileo’s first telescopes are here, as well as some of his original thermometers and experiments in acceleration and motion. The most bizarre item on display was Galileo’s right middle finger—the same middle finger, I imagine, that he used for gesturing at the Inquisition priests when they demanded he recant his belief in a heliocentric model of the solar system. The most brilliant man of his day would spend the last nine years of his life under house arrest for heresy.
Galileo Galilei |
A fine collection of 17th-century telescopes. Dutchman Hans Lippershey built the first one in 1608. Galileo heard about it, and he was promptly making his own the following year. |
BASILICA DI SANTA CROCE
The Church of the Holy Cross is the largest Franciscan church in the world. Construction began in 1294, though additions and renovations would continue for centuries. Its design reflects the austere approach of the Franciscans, though many of the sixteen chapels inside are decorated elaborately with frescoes by Giotto. Michelangelo is entombed here, as well as Galileo, Rossini, and Machiavelli. There are also ornate memorial plaques for Leonardo and Dante, though they are not interned here.
Basilica di Santa Croce |
Tomb of Michelangelo (1475-1564) |
Tomb of Galileo (1564-1642) Note of interest here: Galileo was born the same year that Michelangelo passed away. |
Brunelleschi's Dome
You must ascend 463 stone steps to reach the top of the tallest building in Florence. That would be the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, more commonly known as the Church of Florence, or Duomo di Firenze, or as the locals call it: “the Duomo.” It was a hot afternoon—so hot, pigeons were grounded—but we were up for making the climb.
“Are you afraid of heights?” our tour guide, Valentina, asked before we started.
Ummm… No.
Soon we were following her up dim, narrow passageways to the top—only we didn’t quite make it halfway before one of the four people in our group remembered that he suffered from acrophobia. From our airy vantage point on the catwalk around the base of the dome, the tiled floor of the nave was 170 feet directly below. The guy turned back, and his wife continued on up with us.
The Duomo is not the oldest church in the city, but at 500 feet long and 376 feet high, it is by far the grandest. Construction commenced in 1296 and would continue in fits and starts for 140 years. The colossal dome was the final feature to be built—and nobody had a clue how to do it. The diameter at the base would be 144 feet: larger than any prior dome, other than the one on the Pantheon in Rome, which had been erected a thousand years earlier using coffered slabs of concrete (technology lost with the fall of the Roman Empire). The task to solve this problem was awarded to Filippo Brunelleschi, a talented Florentine goldsmith who was also an architect/engineer and the father of linear perspective drawing. His innovative design began with the egg shape of the dome, but just as crucial was the interlocking herringbone pattern for laying the bricks (check out this cool Nat Geo video clip). He had many detractors who said it would never work… But it did. Today, it is still the largest non-reinforced brick dome ever built.
The panoramic view from the top was magnificent. Valentina pointed out several landmarks and shared some of the history. People have been clambering up here for almost six centuries now, casting their eye upon the terracotta-roofed city and the Tuscan hills beyond. As for Brunelleschi: his tomb lies in a crypt under the church nave, with an epitaph that reads: “Here lies the body of the great ingenious man, Filippo Brunelleschi of Florence.” I’m sure he’s still smiling today. Because his dome still stands.
The Duomo di Firenze with Brunelleschi’s dome in the background. |
Looking down into the nave from the base of the dome. |
The passageway that leads to the top of the dome. The inner dome shell is on the left, and the outer shell is on the right. |
The view from the top. |
Navigation to...
PART ONE PART TWO PART FOUR
No comments:
Post a Comment