Italy: Part II
UPDATE (December 17 - December 27)
If you read my last post, Italy: Part I, you know about Italy’s three ‘F’s. I still haven't covered ‘Food,’ and quite frankly I have no photos to share of my wonderful Italian meals...mostly because the delicious aroma and my growling stomach drove any thought of photography from my mind.
FLORENCE
Florence was the city of views. I climbed to the top of the Bell Tower, which gives a great view of the city and neighboring Duomo di Fiorenze.
This dome, at 375 feet tall (from ground to highest point) and almost 150 feet wide, is the largest masonry dome in the world!
I climbed 463 steps to the top of the Duomo.
Reaching the top of these cathedrals is quite the dizzying affair.
Reminding myself that the way down is always shorter than the way up...Also, that's the previously mentioned Bell Tower over my shoulder.
I hiked up to Piazzale Di Michelangelo.
View of Ponte Vecchio (Jewelers' Bridge) from Piazzale Michelangelo.
I happily climbed no stairs to take a look inside the Duomo di Fiorenze and to view the cathedral from street level.
Colored marble panels and Italian Gothic details give the Duomo façade a breathtaking effect.
Atop the Bell Tower, Duomo, and Piazzale Michlangelo, I traveled through time. Suddenly, the technical fabrics clinging to my skin felt out of place. The little figures far below no longer held smartphones, but rather paintbrushes and pocket watches. Only the buildings remained the same for they were the time machine.
ROME
Take a look at the classic Roman sights through the lens of my camera. And after, I will share a thought and a story.
The Pantheon.
The Pantheon, again.
Some ancient ruins.
A Colesseum close-up.
The Colesseum, again, less close up.
A very Merry Christmas in Rome.
A profile of the Trevvi Fountain.
The Trevvi Fountain, again.
View through the Aventine Keyhole.
View through the Aventine Keyhole, again.
Graffiti and a biker on the Tiber River path.
St. Peter's Basilica on Christmas Eve.
Incredible ceilings of the Vatican Museum.
A thought from the Roman Forum:
Standing in what was once the center of Roman life, I witnessed the remains of massive marble structures and imagined the trade and gathering that happened on the same cobblestones on which I stood. My jaw dropped to learn that lawyers congregated here as well. Suddenly, the society I live in today felt very close to the Roman society I glimpsed through the ruins. Sure, tools and technology have developed exponentially and the details are always shifting, but we still operate on the same core systems -- government, infrastructure, education, socialization. Both then and today, officials attempt to maintain order in society, while the oppressed fight for their rights, architects build buildings, the youth attend school, we arrange and attend gatherings and celebrations, the list goes on. So, as technology morphs into a whole new beast, will society do the same? Or, are the past 3,000 years proof that society at its core is immutable?
Temple of Castor and Pollux, Roman Forum.
And, finally, a story:
This story begins at the Spanish Steps around noon. Crowded, cluttered, loud; tourists’ poison. This is it? I thought.
Fast forward a few days to 6 o’clock on a chilly Roman morning, Christmas morning:
Most were still nestled, snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. My overeating-guilt finally caught up with me, so I went for a run.
I stopped by the Spanish Steps again. This time it ripped the breath from my lungs. Lights blurred on the damp pavement, the whoosh of water in the fountain filled my ears, and the majestic staircase rose before me. It was empty, completely empty. It was magical.
The run ended 7 km later (apparently, I speak metric now) at the top of Monte Mario. As the sun began to peak over a distant mountain range, the clouds soaked up its purples, pinks, and oranges.
The longer I stood, the more details I noticed. To my far right, the Vatican City sat, crowned by St. Peter’s Basilica.
In the foreground, the Tiber River wound, dividing the city in two. And across it all, individual shafts of smoke rose, dotting the city. That last detail left an impression.
Maybe it was that the puffs rising in unison disguised the city as a massive machine. Maybe it was all the people that those miniature clouds represented; all those people who needed warmth and comfort. Maybe it was the ubiquity of chimneys, such a diversity of buildings, yet such similar stacks and shapes of swirling smoke. Maybe it was just aesthetically pleasing -- nothing more, nothing less.
The crowded Spanish Steps meant nothing to me, yet the empty, early morning Steps felt magical. Similarly, the view from Monte Mario was spectacular, but may not have been if it were different weather, sunrise, or day. In something as mundane as a morning run, I learned that the meaning we extract from things and experiences is often less dependent on content and more reliant on context and circumstance.
Merry, very belated, Christmas :)
