Firenze. On a late Friday morning close to the vernal equinox. The city of 400,000 people began to get hungry, and all at once every single restaurant within ten city blocks of the central fountain and square was completed full. You couldn't bribe a waiter with a hundred dollar bill (only 50 Euros) to get into a crowded, outside-seating restaurant that has been spitting out the same boring menu to the tourists for twenty years.


Finally we settled for a gelato and a bench to sit on for a brief respite. Time for one last sweep through the incredulous architecture that was seemingly everywhere you turned your head.


Then we stumbled upon The Golden Doors, or what we thought were the Golden Doors. Getting a shot of those doors without tourist interference was a difficult task, but they were Japanese and I am a 6'5 Italian, so I was able to endure. Later I found out those weren't the real thing, but a replacement while they "cleaned off the oxides so that the gold guild doesn't disintegrate". Yeah, in other words "we're taking off the gold part and we'll put it back after we have safely removed it and stored it in our coffers.

Just kidding, of course we have to trust the scientists who attempt to preserve national treasures such as these famous doors. Despite all the fancy gold and bronze engraving, they were more commonly referred to as The Doors of Paradise. This became the denomination because one would receive their baptism after going through them, therefore a guarantee of the afterlife in heaven. Guarantee, huh? Wasn't Christopher Columbus doing his despicable thing right around that time?


The sun was below the midway point, and the bustling traffic was picking up intensity. Time to break out of there and go for the Adriatic. Cinqueterra! A pace that involves more relaxation than was afforded in the beautiful but overrun town of Florence. Or as 'we' pseudo-Italians like to say: Arrivederrci Firenze!

ER Harris