Running out of Time

I have only a few hours left here in Acquapendente. I'm going back home in less than 10 days... I feel like I did when I finally finished Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris:... now what?



I went to Florence. On the way, we stopped by Orvieto, a gorgeous town on a plateau, like sitting on a throne. I first saw it in a purplish-blue silhouette, surrounded by a cloud of fog, rising above the landscape. Majestic. It funiculare was the only way to get up there other than a long, steep road strictly for cars. The duomo was a work of art in itself, rivalising with that of Sienna. People are insulted at those who dare disturb the peace by taking pictures, yet a nun held out her cellphone as she faced the honored reliquary (a chunk of rock soaked in the blood of Christ) and clicked away subtely. We all took a picture of her taking a picture. I spent the rest of the morning swaggering from shop to shop, swirving to avoid breaking the countless ceramic artworks that are the specialty of this town, and I found myself in the small workshop of a young artist who painted byzantine-style religious canvases. We spent somewhere around 30 minutes switching from Italian to English to French ans we wove together a conversation. He suggested I visit the church along the cliff on the opposite side of town, so I set off to find it. I never got there, constantly disctracted (once by the breathtaking view from the side of the cliff, once by a few mummies in a museum, other times by ceramic shops that seemed out of the ordinary). I regret spending so little time in this goregous little town (and not giving the artist my phone number!!!)



We reached Florence by train from the station in Orvieto. My first vision of Florence was the train station which looked like a near-exact copy of Roma Termini (which I didn't particularly enjoy) and then a McDonald's. The town stinks, is dirty, the people are all snobby tourists and unhappy locals. The beauty of the architecture is lost, drowned between more modern, average buildings. Apparently Florence is an acquired taste. The duomo was also disappointing (I'd seen those of Sienna and Orvieto and didn't feel as overwhelmed as with those two). However, I went shopping and found leather sandals, purse, bag, which I fell in love with and managed to bargain down to an acceptable price. We saw the cast from Jersey Shore (who are filming this season in Florence, having been refused from every other city in the world), and ran after them like cheeky fan girls but got pushed away by the rude and unpleasant body guard. The highlight of the trip was walking into La Loggia, the Uffizzi, and its temporary drawing exhibit. The sculptures and paintings I saw warmed my heart, and I cried in front of the most beautiful woman in the world, Venus. She stood on her shell with her gold-woven hair fluttering with the breeze, and her silky-smooth skin made me jealous. We also ate some pretty messed up gelato (the Gelato Festival egged us on to try the Italiano Trio: tomato, basil, and cheese gelato). I missed the Academia, the walk up inside the Duomo, and the Palazzo Pitti. I will have to go back.

WORD OF THE DAY: Attraversiamo

because I finished the book, finally, right on time. Attraversiamo means "let's cross over", which is Liz's favorite Italian word, and which, coincidentally enough, fits with my leaving of Acquapendente to Rome: Iàm crossing over from a small Italian town, to a big Metropolis. That's the end of authentic Italian for me, I think. Eat Pray Love was a brilliant read with lots of insight and that made me expect to have a spiritual, life changing journey, but I realized this isn't the sort of thing you can force yourself, and so I'm still sitting here waiting.