Rouen - Joan of Arc and the discovery of Nutella Crepes

The Idyllic Backyard of our B&B

What can you say? Rouen is a specacular example of medieval township.

It's a catch up day for us. Laundry. Repacking. Orgainizing a car for our next leg of the journey. (We are seriously over trains at this point and would rather drive!!!)

Liam learns to whittle

The day starts as idyllically as the day before. Our early morning bird friends chirp us awake at five, then we nestle in for another few hours of blissful sleep before awaking to a divine breakfast. Our kids up and dressed and playing in the fairytale garden ahead of us.

Breakfast inside in the art studio this morning. Amazing food!

Downtown Rouen

To work off the pastries and custard of breakfast we decide to hike into the downtown of Rouen for lunch. (How do French women stay slim?) As we are staying in Mont St Aignan on the northern edge of the town its all down hill. The kids are pleased with that. After all these weeks of traveling they have become seasoned walkers, and even I am beginning to relax a bit now that I know that they can be trusted to be sensible when it comes to traffic and staying together. You just don't know how the family dynamics are going to go until you've done it. I'm proud of our tribe for settling in to travel mode so flawlessly.









But back to Rouen!

Rouen was once the most prosperous of medieval cities. And with its position straddling the Seine River and surrounded by fertile planes it has had a long history. Begun in Roman times (but not by the Romans) the city has had so many changes of hands it makes the head spin.
There were the Vikings who devastated the area, and most parts of Europe in the 800's ad. Later Rouen became the capital of the Dukes of Normandy until William the Conqueror moved the capital to be closer to his English holdings. Then it was annexed to the French Kingdom, before the start of the very bloody hundred years war (between England and France over the possession of these lands) in the 1300's. In the 1500's there was the War of Religion that polarized the population. There were terror tactics used on both sides - both Calvanists and Catholics - with many a senseless massacre committed "in the name of god". What a terrifying time to live in. Both sides ready to die and kill for their own version of the same religion. I suppose looking back you tend to look through the filter of time and attempt to pass judgement, but alas, it is hard for me to fathom this bloody era in European history.

One of the many lovely shops in downtown Rouen

After much too-ing and fro-ing, Rouen ended up in French (catholic) rule and stayed that way with brief interludes of Prussian and German occupations during the Franco Prussian war and WWII....

So, that is a history of Rouen in one paragraph. I'm sure there is much that I left out, so much to expand upon, but this isn't the place. I wish I knew a bit more of the positive history so as not to bring light to the negative. But the happy days of farming and afternoon picnics with your family hardly ever make the history books, despite the fact that on the whole the days of happiness out weigh the days of gloom.

As we walk past the ancient Cathedral and through the foot-traffic-only streets the little we know about the town explains some of the buildings that we see, and the feel of staunchness that the town exudes. It has been through a whole lot! There are many half timbered houses that still remain in the city which make you feel as though you have been transported back in time. Buildings that are still standing, looking over squares that would once have been grassy and had peasants carrying their wares and nobles riding horses. If only walls could talk. Well, we may not wish to hear all that they would say!

We buy some baguette sandwiches and a couple fizzy drinks and eat in the lovely wide square - Place du Vieux Marche. There are old taverns and a museum to Joan of Arc. After shopping our way around the square and buying some fresh produce for later snacks we decide to check out the Joan of Arc museum.

While Joan of Arc was not born here, this is where she ended her short life. In fact the same square that we so recently had our lovely picnic was the spot that she was burned alive as a heretic in 1431 - at the age of 19.

Inside the wax museum of Joan of Arc - here she is hearing voices from the saints that instruct her in her mission to save France from the English invaders. She went on to defeat the English army in battle, but was later burned for claiming to hear voices.

I've always had a morbid fascination of the "Maid of Orlean" and the museum turned out to be just the place to spend a hot afternoon. It was a wax museum that portrayed her life in various scenes - from the time as a poor illiterate child when she started hearing voices telling her to take charge of France's armies, to her many victorious battles against the English, to her betrayal and eventual burning at the stake by the English. Who knows how much of her story was factual, and how much was used as medieval propaganda in a war that lasted 100 years between the English and the French. But we do know there was a young girl named Joan who lead the armies of the Dauphin of France in a successful military campaign that kickstarted the return of the French to power in the region. The fact that she was just a young girl and one who died for her belief in her visions had the power to capture the minds of the great playwrights and artists - Shakespeare, Voltaire, Mark Twain, Tchaikovsky, George Bernard Shaw to name a few. So if a few embellishments were made along the way, well, who's to say that the modern era has a monopoly on propaganda?

Liam checks out the image of the burning of Joan of Arc

The kids took it all in and as we all emerged from the dark, cool museum blinking in the afternoon heat there were many questions about medieval times and the ideas of religion so strong that one is willing to be burned alive for it. It's a concept that our modern lives don't come across in day to day life. The fact that our ancestors would have believed it and been a part of that type of system is an eye opener. We can applaud just how much progress has been made in the last 500 years.

As we walked out of the square, all but smelling the smoke from the people who burned in the Place du Vieux Marche all those years ago we passed by a small cart selling crepes. And the discovery of the Nutella Crepe happened. Forget history. This made the kid's whole day, week, month, trip.... (well, at least since the last gelato in Italy that is!) Imagine a fresh crepe cooked on a hot plate in front of you, smothered in rich Nutella, rolled up and voila. You eat it as you walk. Smiles galore.

Not a complaint to be had on the walk home, just happy chompers savoring another discovered delight of foreign cuisine. Even when we had to wait at the train station for an hour until the rental car company opened up. The key to happy family traveling is full stomachs - well, in part at least. :)

The look of Bliss when Liana tucks into a desert Crepe!

That night we have a farewell dinner with our lovely friends at another Creperie. Appetizers, main course and desert, all different types of crepes. I love FRANCE!
A wonderful ending to our sojourn in Normandy. Tomorrow we drive from Rouen to the other side of Paris, to visit our friends who live in the not-so-touristy town of Meaux. But first we have to navigate our way there! It should be an adventure!

Goodbye to our wonderful friends, Roland and Francois! You hold a dear place in our hearts. 

A Tootle Around Normandy

What better way to awaken than with the birds!

Quite literally in our case. Our cozy little room on the third floor of the old Norman house that we are staying in is covered in vines. And as the sun rose so did our fine feathered neighbors who chirped away about the beauty of the new day. Randall and I snuggled back under the duvet with smiles on our faces and went back to sleep for another couple hours. (The sunrise is about 5am.)

When we do pull ourselves out of bed the birds are all off about their business and the lovely lady who runs the b&b has breakfast laid out on the patio. Looking down from our window there is a happy little red head singing away waiting for us to join her. Clara has always been our morning girl!









After eating the amazing home made pastries, fresh fruit, yogurt and coffee we are off again to take a tour of the region with our hosts. The day is brilliant. Blue skies and perfect pastoral vistas.

Inside St. George of Boscherville Abbey

We visit several abbeys along the way.

St. George of Boscherville Abbey- a perfect example of Norman workmanship. Light and airy, with beautiful gardens overlooking the Seine Valley; it sets the soul to the devine. Started in the 1200's it stands still as one of the finest Romanesque churches in Normandy.

What is left of the learning center that was Jumiege Abbeye

Then there was Jumiege Abbeye - or what remains of it. The abbey's history runs back to the 600's when it was a center of learning and had 1000 monks living and praying within it's walls. It sustained a high profile in the realm of the spirituality and being the model for all other abbeys of the area for many a century. But not everything lasts. It suffered with the invasion of the English. And the war of religion and the Huguenots. Until it was finally burned and sacked during the French revolution. The shell of the monastery still remains for all to see. Still inspiring thoughts of god, despite the derelict nature of it's remnants.

We had the perfect picnic in the forests above the Abbey of St Wandrille. The kids were as pleased as could be, and again the food was sublime. Francoise taught the girls how to whistle using a blade of grass and the boys explored the rich woods. Meanwhile I stuffed myself with the fresh bread and amazing dressing Francois has supplied us with. So like me.

The Abbey of St. Wandrille is a wonderful mixture of ruined Norman Abbey, current monastery and of wooden church. Again started in the 600's the church was sacked and ruined and rebuilt many times over the years. We were very quiet while walking through the grounds as this is still a working monastery with many monks taking a vow of silence.
Going past the ruins of the giant stone monastery that was sacked during the French revolution, you come across two smaller chapels made of wood. This comes from the ancient days when the buildings were put together using only the wood - metal was a precious commodity. In fact one of these buildings was once a royal stable and was dismantled and brought across part of Normandy by the monks to become their new chapel and it is still here today. Pretty clever, I'll say! Lucky for us one of the monks was practicing his organ playing and the entire chapel reverberated with the haunting strains of the organ. Clara took the time to pray and Juliet felt the need to dance. It is humbling to be in the presence of such faith.

inside the all wood chapel of St. Wadrille

On the grounds of the Abbey of St. Wandrille

Ruined Abbey of St. Wandrille

Everything is idyllic, but with all the contentedness I feel I am still searching for what makes Normandy different; a place all its own.
You cannot help but feel the contrast here from the other places we've traveled in, however I can't quite put my finger on it. It's peaceful — in a watchful sort of way. Probably because there has been such strife here. Armies and leaders - coming and going. But the land is still restful despite the blood spilled here. Maybe it's a good testament to the common people. Life goes on, despite the crazy politics of any time...

We end our day in a tiny resort town called Veules-les-Roses, on the French coast facing onto the English channel. It is resort village and as we walk past the ancient water wheels it feels so restful. Many of the buildings are built in the traditional way with thatched roofs. Oh so very, very charming. The kids run ferrel on the grassy hillside and we end up on the stony beach to have a cup of tea before heading back into Rouen.

Thatched roofs in the town of Veules-les-Roses

The whole idyl was marred only slightly by Juliet throwing a stone and very nearly blinding Clara (on accident of course). A bloody towel later Clara's fine, with only a gashed eyebrow to show for Mum and Dad's shattered nerves. Thank goodness we don't have to decamp to the hospital. Ahhh, the joys of traveling with kids.

On the beach of Veules-les-Roses

What a lovely part of the world, with lots and lots of history. It has a very permanent feel to it, but not old fashioned. So much life has happened here that it just seems right that life will always continue here. I'm so glad we had the chance to enjoy it with our lovely host family.

And to enjoy another night in our bird house perch. I can't wait to go to bed so that I can wake up with the birds again!

Bon nuit mes amies!

Bonjour Normandy!

The train rolls into Paris early in the morning. We do the reverse shuffle off the train herding sleepy kids and luggage out of the train station and to the taxi stands. In the infinite wisdom of the railway lines we must disembark our train and change stations to meet up with the train that will take us from Paris to Normandy -the train station is on the opposite side of Paris. So into a taxi van we go.

Rouen Cathedral

The city is still waking up, and it seems like a surreal dream. Finally we are on the regional train from Paris to Rouen - the capital of Normandy - final destination for today.

Why Rouen, we keep getting asked?
Because we have some very dear friends who live there. Forty years ago when Randall and his family were doing one of their year long voyages around the world they met the a French family, who were doing the same thing. And with such likeminded people the family friendship has stayed in place through all the years. So, we have come to reconnect with Francoise and Roland and visit their little slice of French countryside in person.

Always the happy traveler!

They meet us at the station, and all I can think is how much I must SMELL after all the sweaty trains. I mean I am wearing the same clothes from 24 hours ago. I've carried bags out of hotels, into taxis, on and off trains, slept in them and to add insult to injury my toothpaste is buried god knows where. What a way to make a first impression! But our friends don't bat an eyelid and welcome us with open arms and drive us to their house for a light lunch, which turns out to be a delicious feast. Lucky us to be visiting one of the best chefs in Normandy. All the weight I've lost with the illness' on the earlier part of the trip will certainly be rectified in our three day stay.

Afterwards we get dropped off in a beautiful park near the heart of Rouen, while we wait for our B&B to be ready, and do a brief exploration of this fantastic medieval city. To be honest we are far too shellshocked from our train journey to take in most of it. There is so much to see here, a city that is the burial place of Richard the Lionhearted, saw the burning of Joan of Arc and was passed back and forth between the English and French and Dukes of Normandy for hundreds of years. Too tired today to make much of all this history - but we do make it to the fantastic cathedral.

The Rouen Cathedral is truly magnificent. There was a church built on this site from at least the 4th century AD, although the Viking raids of the 9th century (Rouen straddles the Seine river giving them easy access with their long boats) destroyed most of the buildings in the area.
The cathedral that stands here today is a living testament to gothic architecture. It was started in the 12th century and looms over the town like a dark and airy reminder of the power of church and god. It has been added on to over the centuries, but always keeping with the same flavor of grandeur. In fact it was named the tallest building in the world in the 1870's with the addition of the cast iron spire of the lantern tower. It was partially destroyed in the WWII bombings but was lovingly restored by residents of the town and still stands today, not as a reminder of the past - the entire old city of Rouen is a testament of the cities varied past - but of the religious and communal strength of the city.

Inside it is deliciously cool. A welcome reprieve from the sunny heat of the mid afternoon sun. The ceiling is so high above us you can't help but look up, and looking up is good for the soul! The kids and I go on a hunt to find the tomb of Richard the Lionhearted who's heart is buried here amongst the countless other tombs of crusaders, kings and notables. Eventually we find his tomb, no great distinction from the other ones around him, simply a crusader who died after a wound from a cross bow became septic; not a way I'd want to die, but back then it was pretty common. He ruled England, Normandy, Aquitaine (courtesy of his famous mother Eleanor) and various other lands for a mere ten years, but still lives on in legends.

Knights of the Crusades

The kids take a rest, pretending to be knights of the third crusades while I marvel at the huge organs of the cathedral. I would so love to hear these played! Imagine the acoustics in this giant shell of stone. I can only imagine that it would be awe inspiring!



Back outside we finally check in to our little B&B (which is just around the corner from our friends) and are delighted by the surprise find! Le Chambre Avec Vue - an apt name for this delightful gem of a B&B! Despite the fact that we have to climb three flights of creaky wooden stairs we have the entire top floor to ourselves - three bed rooms, two bathrooms and a view over the gardens to the entire old city below. A dream come true!

After a shower (oh yes, a blessed shower!!) we walk back to our friends house for an evening of divine food and laughter and comfort. Bonjour France, what a way to welcome us!

Le Chambre Avec Vue

Our friends have offered to take us on a tour of local Normandy tomorrow. I can't wait to dive into a new place and history. As we walk back through the twilight streets of ancient Normandy a wonderful feeling of peace comes over me. The family is happy, we are surrounded by friends and good food. Love is abundant. Bring on tomorrow, life is good.

Ahhh, goodbye beautiful Florence (and the night train from hell to Paris)

Goodbye beautiful Florence and Italy....

It's the morning of our last day in Italy. Tonight we board the overnight train from Florence to Paris.

But there is a bit of housekeeping to tend to before any pursuit of happiness can begin. With our Eurail passes being stolen I must make my way to the carbinierri station in Florence to have a report made for our insurance. Ooooo, this is so how I want to spend my last morning in Italy!

Not.

Just in case you didn't believe me!

I leave the kids with Randall and head out in search of the Police station. It's a long, long wait. Stuck in a room with fake leather seats, one newspaper and lots of people waiting their turn. But you know the old saying, if you can't get out of something, get into it! So I embraced my little adventure. There was the couple, obviously lovers - need I say more. Then there was the old man who didn't speak a word of English but insisted on talking to me nonstop. I felt quite proud (and exhausted) that I was able to keep up with the conversation and we were able to "chat" about our trip and his dog. All the while I was fascinated by the dress code here. Italians love their clothes, and wear some amazing creations! The top pick for me this morning was the man in the purple pants wearing lime green shoes and a plaid blazer that matched. Wowzers. I snuck a photo in on my iphone just to prove it was indeed the truth.

After a two hour wait I am ushered into a little room with a very nice police man. Unfortunately he does not speak English at all. I try my best, but he doesn't want to put anything in a report that he is not completely sure of. I try the translation ap for my iphone. We get slightly further. After half an hour he calls in another officer who speaks a little English (why didn't we do this 30 minutes ago?) and finally I have a police report. Hallelujah! Let's just hope the travel insurance keeps their end of the bargain.

As I walk through the lovely old streets of Florence I realize I am feeling a bit sad. Even though we have been traveling for weeks I feel like it's going too fast. There has been such an immense amount of history, culture and life to assimilate; but it's almost like a drug addiction, I don't want it to end. Luckily we still have nearly two weeks, but that will fly by.....

Beautiful Florence

I get back to the hotel just before the troops arrive home from their morning out. They've been shopping and eating and checking out more of Florence.

I am very keen to hike up to the Piazzale Michelangelo to see some views over the city and get a perspective of the city from on high... The kids are troopers and hike up past the old medieval walls to the gardens without too much fuss.

The gardens that we hike through are lovely, roses and lilies and other beautiful flowers. Even in a city their is always room for beauty.

There are many interesting things to be seen in the gardens of Florence

View from the Piazzale Michelangelo

For me to get a glimpse of the ancient medieval walls that once surrounded all of Florence was a highlight. Just imagine five hundred years ago, these stone walls would have completely surrounded the city, protecting it from outside invaders and keeping the citizens safe. Most European cities would have been constructed like this and I wonder what it looked like back in the day, a city completely ringed by these walls. (Oh wait, Dubrovnik, it hasn't been that long since we've seen a complete medieval town with walls in tact.) I am not sure if it would have made me feel claustrophobic living within walls that can keep me in, or shut me out; but back then people would have had a very real and intense need for this kind of safely, and hopefully a trust of their government that would be something like a child to a parent. If the art and architecture of this medieval city are a gage on the atmosphere of a city, then you could reason the people would not have been feeling trapped, but soaring.

Looking down on Ponte Vecchio and the Arno river

The views are amazing from the Piazzale Michelangelo. Built on one of the highest hills in Florence the grand Piazzale offers views all around. Dedicated to Florence's favoured son, Michelangelo, it was built in the 1800's and has replica statues of the David and others to commemorate Michelangelo's contribution to the art world.

meditating

It's the first day that it feels really hot, at least the first since we have been in Europe. Before heading back down we take refuge in the cool, cool church of San Minioto al Monte. This church is dedicated to St. Minus who was beheaded on the banks of the Arno by the Roman Emperor Diocletian for being a christian - apparently once beheaded he picked up his head and marched up this hill before dying on the spot that the church is built on. Consecration of this church began in the 10th century (there was a humble chapel before it) and the inside has incredible mosaics from the 13th century. It's a cool calming place. The kids are happy to sit on the old wooden benches and meditate for a while, while Randall and I take in the history of the ancient art work. But we must keep moving.

San Minioto al Monte

coming out the door of the San Minioto al Monte Church

To come out of the delicious coolness of the church into the bright light with all of Florence at your feet is quite sensory overload. Florence is spread out like a delicious table cloth of red tiled roofs and gardens. The hills of Tuscany are green in the distance. It's like being in a painting yourself.

Post fruit slushy, the amazing light is so beautiful.

Rape of the Sabine

After trailing around the tombs and crypts of the church we rewards the kids (big and small alike!) with some fruit slushy to keep us cool on our way back down into the city. One last stroll through the old town of Florence. A little shopping - the kids all spent their money on some amazing looking feather pens with calligraphy tips and proper ink - and we walk through the Piazza della Signoria one last time. A last viewing of the the loggia with it's amazing statues, and an early dinner for us. Lasagna, pizza and a cold beer. Mmmm, the perfect ending to our day. We're ready to haul our baggage down the labyrinthine hotel to the waiting taxis and train station.

Piazza della Signoria

one last pet of their favorite statue!

This time we have seats together (courtesy of the mental train italia worker from the night before). I'm still not a big fan of train travel but so far so good.

We get to Milan and have an hours lay over. Bad planning on my part - we arrive at 10pm and everything is closed. So sitting in a cafe having a late night snack with the kiddos to pass the time didn't work out at all. Instead we create a medieval fortress wall using our luggage. (How did we end up with this much luggage? I worked so hard to keep it down!)

Finally the train arrives. Late by half an hour. And the mad rush is on. People start rushing towards the train. Pushing and shoving to get on. Jeeze. Will it really leave without us, or are all these people used to the trains in Africa that do leave while people are still climbing on board. After being told to get into the wrong side of the train we manage to get all bags/kids on board and haul them to our room. We'll say room, although sardine can is more like it. And given Juliet's age is less than five they have not assigned her a bunk. So even though we have a six berth room, there are actually seven people sleeping here. We discover that we are sharing with a very large man from North Africa. The poor man must have been seriously sad when he saw us coming with all our bags and children. What luck on his part to get stuck with us! He was very nice and helped us store our bags in what little room we could manage. I so wish we had a picture, as this is by far the most crammed we have ever spent a night, ever. Bar none. By the time the kids and bags were stowed (Clara and Juliet crammed into a bunk that could only fold down part way due to the suitcase) Randall and I are soaked through in sweat and both a bit grumpy. This is going to be a long, long night. So what are a pair of travelers to do, we pull out the last of the lemoncello and stand in the train hallway and toast to the adventures of travel. Good, bad and sweaty.

Arrivederci beautiful Italy. It's been wonderful.

As the night landscape passes us by sometime in the night we cross into France....

Florence - Renaissance city of the Medici's

Florence - Renaissance city of the Medici's

Can we have breakfast here?

Teeheeheee...... We giggle our way through Florence. The girls think it is just hilarious how all the statues are in the nude. Oh mummy, I see another willy! Teeheehee.....

Ah yes, we must be in Florence!

After sleeping off all the rich food and gelato from the night before we get off to a bit of a slow start in the morning. We are booked on the last of our Context Travel tours for children of the trip, but we are not meant to meet our guide Monica until late afternoon. We have what's left of the morning and midday to explore Florence on our own and decide to wander into the old town of Florence and see what we can see on foot, and maybe buy a suitcase to hold all the extra "stuff" we have accumulated during the last six weeks of travel!

Florence, the heart of Tuscany, famous for it's rich history and culture, does not disappoint, it was one of the wealthiest cities of medieval times. Straddling the banks of the Arno River, it was originally founded by the Romans in the century before Christ, but didn’t really come into its full swing until the 1000’s ad when Florence’s very powerful rival Pisa was crushed by their other rival Genoa, and the Florentine people rose up in an anti aristocratic movement and were able to establish a republic of sorts.  Being a strong mercantile city-state the guilds of each profession rose up around the city wielding much power. The wool guild in particular.

the Naked Man from the Piazza

Walking from our hotel by the Pitti Palace, across the Arno River on the Ponte Vecchio, “the old bridge” it was quite easy to simply meander into the heart of the city. We found ourselves in the main square of Piazza della Signoria. “A massive holding tank for tourists”, is how the Lonely Planet guide describes it, and right they are. It’s hard to believe, but the crowds of American tourists seem to be even greater than Venice during the America’s cup. Holy moly, that’s crowded, but still worth it for the splendor of the scene! Created in the 13^th century, the Piazza may be a swarming tourist nest now, but back in the high times of the Florentine renaissance this was the hub of all political activity. The public would be summoned here to vote on critical matters, and listen to political orators.

As we start making our way through the crowd to get a closer look at the statues lining the piazza I catch my first giggle glimpse. Standing in a third story open window was a completely nude man, posing and flexing his naked body for the entire piazza to see. I couldn’t stop giggling, certainly not the norm when it comes for views. Too bad I had my iphone and not the telephoto camera that Randall uses - sorry girls!

In front of "Perseus and Medusa"

Once I had overcome my little fit of giggles, and was able to focus on navigating the crowd, I caught up with Randall and the big kids who had made it safely across the piazza without getting trampled by the herd of tourists and were admiring the statues in the Loggia della Signoria. Originally a platform for public ceremonies, the Loggia is home to the more famous of the statues on the Piazza. It was hard to decide which was more moving. Having read so much history and heard so many stories about mythology over the past few months the kids were completely cued in on the stories behind the statues. Look, there’s Perseus and Medusa! That must be Hercules and centaur! A few stumped them, but that’s why we have a guide later on in the day.

The amazing artistry that went into these statues is incredible. The attention to detail, the facial expressions, even the sense that the clothing (where there is clothing) is moving in the breeze is what makes it so lifelike.

When I was a little girl my dad used to tell me the story of "Michelangelo and perfection". I don’t know if it’s true or not, but looking at these statues I feel compelled to share it!

The story goes that Michelangelo was hard at work on one of his magnificent marble statues and three young statesmen came to visit him.

“Ah, Michelangelo, what an artist you are!”

“Brilliant, genius!” they exclaim.

Michelangelo acknowledges them and goes back to his sweaty work.

A month passes and once again the same three young men come to visit Michelangelo in his workshop and this time they are irate to find that the great artist is still slaving away on the same statue.

“What have you been doing Michelangelo? The statue is nearly the same as it was before, why do you waste your time when you could be making the next masterpiece?” exclaims one of the men.

Michelangelo stops and dusts off his hands and walks over the young men.

“Do you see the angle of the chin? Does it not look more lifelike? Or the fold in the robe, does that not look more fluid? And the veins in the arms?”

“Ah, these are mere trifles!” sputtered the youth.

“Yes, these are but trifles!” shouted Michelangelo, “but these trifles added up make up perfection, and perfection is no trifle!”

Upon which he went back to his work and became one of the greatest artist ever to live.

Whether it's true or not, looking at these statues in front of me, makes that story come to life and happen before my eyes. It takes that dedication to detail - to spend a month sweating over a jawline - to achieve this level of artistry. It is probably why tourists from all over are so drawn to it, especially in today’s throw away, next please, society.

And so we pass out of the Piazza, we’ll be back later with the guide, and head for a little shopping. All the purchases have strained our four suitcases to the breaking point, so I relent on my four-bag policy and we buy a shiny new suitcase. Liam gets the honors of carrying it back through Florence to our hotel. A lesson Randall tells him about how easy travel is these days. Liam enjoys his Sherpa status and soon we are repacked and ready to meet our guide.

Rape of the Sabine

We meet the guide back at the Piazza del Signoria, most specifically the Loggia, where we get an overview of the Florentine history and the kids get to ask her all sorts of questions about the statues and the meaning behind them. Our guide Monica, at first seemed like she’d been hit by a steamroller. But then, the kids can have that effect, especially when they have the bit between their teeth. “But what is the story behind the “Rape of the Sabine?” asks Clara. We are all blushing. That is one thing about learning history and art at a young age. You discover some of the less Disney-like aspects of life. But Monica pulled it off and was able to tell the story of the statue so that we were all happy! Again, so happy to have a guide! (The Sabine’s were a neighboring tribe to the ancient Romans, and when they ancient Romans had a shortage of women they threw a huge party, got the Sabine men drunk and carried off their women.) It’s a stunning statue, with three figures all carved out of the same piece of marble.

Ponte Vecchio

Moving along we head by the to-scale replica of Michelangelo’s David outside the Uffuzi gallery. The kids get the story of David and Goliath and want to go inside to see the real one, but alas, with time limited standing in line for hours is not going to be on our agenda. We’ll save it for the next time we visit Florence, and also when the kids are older. 

We head down to the Arno river to view the Ponte Vecchio, the bridge we’ve been crossing each time we walk into the historical center of Florence. It was originally a Roman bridge and had been swept away a few times by floods before this bridge was constructed out of solid stone in 1345 and has been Florence’s main bridge ever since.
Just as in medieval times the bridge still has stores open in it. Originally lined with the town’s butchers (so they could throw their offal into the Arno) but when Cosimo D’Medici built his famous Vasari Corridor (a private Corridor that crosses half of medieval Florence which allowed him access from his Palace on the other side of the Arno directly to government buildings without going out in public) he forbade the butchers to sell on the bridge anymore and invited the goldsmiths to inhabit the stalls, upping the prestige of the bridge, and of course himself.  And it is such an unspoiled, beautiful reminder of life in the renaissance, that when the Nazi troops were pulling out of Florence in their big retreat they blew up all the bridges along the Arno - but Hitler gave express orders that the Ponte Vecchio would be saved. Thank goodness for that!

guild of the stone masons

Il Porcellino

We wind back down into Florence, to a side we haven’t seen yet. Moving through the older part of town we pass the Mercato Nuovo, a covered market dating back from the 12^th century that merchants originally sold luxury items at, but now houses all sorts leather, t shirts and other touristy stuff. The best part is the statue of Il Porcellino, the wild boar of Florence. As legend goes if you put a coin in the snout of the boar and give it a good rub you will be guaranteed to return to Florence. Needless to say the kids were all over that; Liam even parting with some of his hard earned coins to do it more than once. Il Porcellino has stood guard over the market since the 1500’s so even though his body is a patina of old bronze, his snout is as shiny as can be. Imagine all the tourists who have rubbed this nose over the years.

Heading further into the heart of the old city we pass through some of the oldest buildings, mainly the guilds of the renaissance time. The guilds were secular entities that controlled the various trades of the city (think wool guild, doctor and pharmacist’s guild etc) and had huge influence in the matters of government and the life within the city. There is an amazing building that was erected where each of the guilds were able to decorate a different niche with their own patron saint and symbols that represented their guild and what they brought to the table. My particular favorite, and this is probably no surprise, is the stonemason’s guild with its ornate statues and beautiful portrayal of a renaissance art studio.

The kids were beginning to drift a bit with the overloading of Art and Architecture we have loaded them with today so we take a quick break watching the street artist recreate the famous painting of the girl with the pearl earring with sidewalk chalk. Pretty dagnab amazing.

Art of all kinds is still alive in Florence.

We enter the Piazza della Repubblica, site of the ancient Roman forum, and today a glamorous piazza for enjoying a cappuccino and watching the world go by. The girls rush ahead when they hear live music, and have an impromptu dance session to a band called “The Rom Dracs”, a Romanian trio playing a smattering of classical and popular Italian songs. We bought their cd and I will never think of the song Volare again without seeing my two little girls dancing with complete abandon with the beautiful town of Florence as the backdrop. Forget history, this is the heart and soul of joy, may we never lose the ability to be in the moment and spontaneously enjoy a moment that has been given to us.

But as the band closes up, we have to guide the kids carefully through the stalls that are being set up, lest they realize that tomorrow is the gelato festival. I will never be forgiven if we don’t attend it, and I don’t think it starts until about the time that our train will be pulling out of the Florence station. Oh dear.

Il Duomo

At last we have reached the end of our journey. The Duomo of Florence!

In front of the Duomo

Begun in 1296 in the gothic style and finished in 1436 with Fillipo Brunelleschi's famous dome as the crowning peak. A revolutionary new design in the renaissance period, the dome was, until the advent of modern building materials, the largest in the world. The Duomo is one of Italy’s largest churches and beautiful and unique in it’s own way. And facing it is something that steals the kid’s imaginations, especially Clara. Anyone who has been to Florence will already know what I am talking about. They are the magnificent bronze doors of the Battistero di San Giovanni, dubbed by Michelangelo himself as “the Gates of Paradise”.

The story of Moses

The building itself stands opposite to the Duomo and was the baptistery where the most notable of Florentine’s would have been baptized, including Dante Alighieri. The spot has been a religious sight for much longer though, dating back to Roman times when there was a temple dedicated to Mars, the god of war. The building is an octagonal shape and there are three sets of Bronze doors, the north and east sides being created by Lorenzo Ghiberti. We spent over an hour examining the east doors, which depict ten stories from the old testament of the bible. Clara quickly picked out Moses and the Ten Commandments; of course, she has quite the vested interest now that she’s been to Mt. Sinai! Our guide is magnificently patient with the kids and answers in detail each question about the different scenes, something I am glad we have her for as each panel depicts an entire story out of the bible, but all in one scene. It is genius how he was able to tell the stories this way, and yet keep it beautiful. It took Ghiberti 27 years of intense work to complete these doors, and it’s truly a masterpiece. And to the common people who would not have been able to read, this would be a way for them to learn the stories of the bible visually.

Finally we must farewell our guide and make some decisions about the rest of the evening. Whether to explore the Duomo surrounds, or get some food?

As we had our Eurail passes stolen I will have to make a trip to the train station to secure our tickets to Paris tomorrow evening, so we opt to walk towards the train station and find ourselves a little pizzaria to sooth the savage stomachs, oh I mean kids, leaving Randall to find their way back to the hotel and me to haggle with the Italian train employees. Not the best experience of my life, I might add. First the line is over an hour to get to the counter. Second the grey haired Italian man does not seem to be happy to working tonight; he speaks a little English and after more than two weeks in Italy I have workable Italian. And when the inevitable miscommunication of dates happens and he has to reenter the new dates the man flies OFF the handle, cursing all Americans vehemently and shouting at me to go to the end of the line. Oh no, not another hour wait because somebody is a control freak! So I pull out my New Zealand passport and look sorrowfully at him. The most amazing transformation comes over him and he is suddenly my best friend, offering all sorts of advice, circling all of the train numbers and times etc. He heaps loving praise on New Zealand and we wave goodbye to each other like old friends. Sometimes you just have to stay in the moment and enjoy the ride. Haha…. Gotta love it.

post train station back rub - kids rock!!!

And that is how I happen to find myself walking back along the Arno river at sunset admiring the views and the peaceful nature of just being (ie not constantly alert to the chance that one of the kids will run in front of a car, or some such fate). I arrive home to the hotel, mounting the 96 something steps, and collapse on the bed. Luckily the kids are awake and decide that tonight is massage night, giving me the nicest welcome home present!

After they are all settled Randall and I sneak up to the top of the hotel to take in the air and wow. A panoramic view of Florence at night is spread before us. The main buildings lit up like we are in a movie set. It’s a tiny little rooftop deck, but just perfect for us to sneak our bottle of Lemoncello up to and toast to our wonderful adventure thus far. We have the day in Florence tomorrow before heading out to the second to last country of the trip – France!!!!

And what a place to end our day in Florence