9/14 - Florence

The next port of call was Livorno, our first destination in Italy. We debated for a while what we should do and finally decided that we are better off taking a train to Florence instead of going to Pisa. And that was despite the fact that we all have been to Florence before.

The train was cheap, but took over an hour. We arrived on the train station and headed towards Duomo. The Duomo is unforgettable and breathtaking because of its details. When it emerges out of the busy Florence street one is simply stunned by its beauty. Last time we went upstairs to the roof, but this time the line was just too long, and we decided to pass.



After enjoying the Duomo we headed towards the Uffizi gallery. The streets where quite busy, there were a lot of tourists and local 'artists' trying to sell copies of various famous works, like Boticelli's 'Birth of Venus'. We did not go into Uffizi, again, because of the long line. Instead we turned right and headed towards Ponte Vecchio.




Ponte Vecchio is a small bridge covered with tourist-trap-quality jewlerly stores. Naturally, it did not take a long time for us to cross. Once on the other side, we felt hungry. I remembered that 5 years ago we uncovered a small restaurant with amazing food about 5 minutes from the bridge. We were lucky to find the place again.
The food was cheap and delicious. The waiter was friendly and from Albania. To our horror he cited some of his Soviet childhood heroes. But, the best was the house wine. We took 3 liters aboard. The place is called Tratoria 4 Leoni, it is located on Plazza della Passera - Via dei Vellutini.

How un-renaissance of us to say that the restaurant was the highlight of the visit. Well that and the Duomo. After the restaurant we did some more strolling and then headed back to the train station. We were unanimous that there is no need for the third visit.

Finally, this entry has to conclude with the note that you can never guess who can speak Russian around you. Really, you can't. We were in the train and oriental-looking woman was sitting next to us. For the duration of the trip she was pretty absent minded. She just stared at the window and did not even look at us. But when the conductor went through and said that we should have stamped our tickets at the station, she turned and without a trace of an accent explained in Russian where and what we should have done. When we got off the train and grabbed a taxi to the ship, the two women on the back seat who spoke perfect English suddenly switched to perfect Russian.

The moral is: You never know how many Russian speaking people are surrounding you at any given time.

All pictures from this trip