19 May Let the Bodies Hit the Florence
Traveling from Rome to Florence was the first time I’d been on a train. Well, I’ve ridden the bullet train in China, but that was only for a short distance, so I don’t count that. Granted, I’ve been on subways/metros and even trolleys, but never a train.
One of the first qualities I recognized about Florence was its subtlety. Everything about it was far more subdued than Rome; from the traffic, to crowds, to annoying street vendors; all of it was pacified, and I liked that.
Don’t get me wrong, Rome was absolutely splendid and marvelous with its rich history, but even with only being in Florence for the first few minutes, I immediately felt more comfortable. Certainly, being a little more familiar with the language and cultural customs helped a great deal, but had we initially started out in Firenze (Florence), I probably would have had a similar reaction.
Compared to the complicated, artery-like streets of Rome (the same ones that allowed for me to get lost on many occasions), the streets of Florence seemed like they all lead to the Duomo. Though it’s possible to get lost, it’s relatively easy to find one’s way in Florence.
We’ve been incredibly spoiled on this trip so far, but we’ve been spoiled by Florence the most. There is more beauty, in my opinion, than in Rome; which to me, is too metropolitan for its own good. People even seem to have more license to find things beautiful in Florence, versus Rome. I’ve heard the word used in conversation more liberally. Oddly enough, Rome reminds me of Shanghai, whereas Florence reminds me of Moganshan.
I don’t think I’ve ever had such amazing food in my life. Romans seem to eat only to stave off starvation, while the people of Florence treat eating as an sensory-rich experience unto itself. The marriage of ingredients in Rome seemed arranged; in Florence, it was true love. The food had a conversation. No, it wrote poetry in my mouth! Within a 4-day period, I’ve eaten some of the best food I’ve ever had! Chef Marcello prepared food in a way that seamlessly blended culinary arts and science, and the waiter at the hotel
by our apartments displayed the perfect balance between customer service and showmanship.
Somehow, I managed to like cheese, tomatoes, red wine, and pork. Maybe Italy can help me to start liking seafood. Florence worked fuckin’ magic on my tastebuds. It’s a spell that I hope never lifts…
