Firenze

This morning we left the Cinque Terre to Florence via Pisa.  It is about two hours by train, all connections going smoothly.   It is sunny and warm and we are starting to feel quite smug about train travel.   On the leg of the journey from La Spezia to Pisa we passed the marble quarries of Carrera, where Michelangelo chose his marble for David, and his other marble works.  Still an active quarry, massive chunks of marble are piled in the surrounding land below the quarry, which has the appearance of snowy peaks.  We arrived in Florence and spent the afternoon and evening wandering about a couple of the ancient piazzas and around the beautiful duomo.

The Ponte Vecchio was a delightful viewpoint.  It crosses the same lovely Arno River that winds through Pisa, near the Duomo there. The Duomo dominates the old city and is the centre of urban buzz.  We visit the Loggia.  Originally, this was a place to hold public ceremonies and assemblies, it was built in the 1370's.  It was upgraded to a statuary in the mid 1700's, statues from various places in Italy were moved there, (I know not how) and overlook the piazza.  People sit in the loggia and smoke, eat ice cream, chat...like it isn't surreal to hang out with these glorious works of art.   Lining the square are up scale shops, fining dining, delis, wine shops, street shops, gelaterias, artists and various street sellers.

Leaving the Loggia, we happened across a large chapel with a sign in front, reading:

SILENCIO!
ADORATIOZIONE
EUCARISTICA

Ah.  We stepped inside for a moment of silent prayer, a literal sanctuary in the middle of a bustling city.  We stayed there a little while, offering all of your intentions and ours in front of the Blessed Sacrament.  One of the kids noticed a glove on a bronze hand, encased in glass.  It turns out it is the glove of Blessed Padre Pio, that he used to cover the wounds of Christ, the stigmata, that he bore. Next to the relic was a bronze statue of Padre Pio, kneeling, raising his hands in petition.

So beautiful.

Our apartment is about a two minute walk from the Duomo.  Outside my window, while I write this, is the vibrant chatter and street noise of a hundred Italian voices.