The photo above is the panorama of Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo. No need to admire my photography. It is impossible to take a bad picture of this view.
I have posted the view from my terrace many times and hope you are not tired of looking at it. I have owned this apartment for nearly 19 years, but still the first thing I do upon rising every morning is to look at this.
|Dawn from my sitting room|
To me, the height of relaxation and elegant decadence is to go out for breakfast. I do so every morning.
When I exit my front door, if I glance to my left, I see Dante.
|What can be better than a place where they put up|
statues of poets?
Here in Italy, breakfast for me means a cappuccino and a pastry. Just around the corner is one of the loveliest places for la piccolo collazione: Rivoire.
|Ones pays up at the cashier, two euros, seventy for coffee and a pastry.|
about a dollar less than a small, tasteless cappuccino at Starbucks in NYC
|The hardest part of breakfast, choosing from among those yummies on the bottom shelf|
|One can sit at a table, but I take my pastry to the bar and order my|
coffee there, in the style of the Italians
Let's take a look around the Piazza della Signoria as we leave Revoire.
|I wish I could earn one mil for every picture taken in this piazza every day.|
|The Palazzo Vecchio from ground level, on a rainy morning|
|Close up of its entrance|
|The Loggia dei Lanzi|
|My favourite denizen of the Loggia, Benvenuto Cellini's|
Perseus with the head of Medusa.
|Neptune, looking great in the morning sunshine|
On the way home, I might need to stop for something at the local store. It's on the short narrow street that runs past my front door.
|Whatever you need, this lovely store has it, toilet tissue or a|
jar of capers. Fresh fruit and vegetables, wine, cured meats
and cheeses of a high quality that would be difficult to come by
anywhere outside of Italy.
Before going inside my house, let's take a look at the Mercato al Porcellino, a few feet from the front door.
|During the day, the market features typical Florentine tourist purchases, clothing|
and leather goods of good quality.
|The market owes its name to this little pig--actually quite|
a large wild boar. Tradition has it that if you rub his snout,
you will return to Florence. As you can see, many people
try it. I did it in 1973. It's worked for me.
|Every evening, the merchants of the market pack up their goods and roll|
their carts to a nearby storage. Here is how it looks by night.
Just across from the market and directly across from my front door, there is this source of delightful temptation:
|Fabulous chocolates and wonderful gelato.|
On an ordinary day, I spend some time working at my computer:
In the afternoon, I will certainly go out for a coffee and a snack, perhaps to another favourite spot--Il Forno da Verrazano, three minutes walk away.
If I feel the need to stretch my legs, I can go on along the via Calzaiuoli for another two minutes and reach the Piazza del Duomo:
If, like today, I need to make a trip to the supermarket, there is one just five minutes in the other direction from my home.
|The view south from my corner, with the Ponte Vecchio at the end.|
|Looking west from the Ponte Vecchio|
|The east view. Those arches on the left lead to the piazza in front of the|
Uffizi gallery, that stretches to the Piazza della Signoria.
|Returning from grocery shopping in the evening, over|
the Ponte Vecchio. That's the dome of the Duomo at the end
Whenever I write for MIE while I am here, I think of one of my happiest weekends in Florence. I know you have seen this photo many times before, but I can't help posting it again. It's my favorite EVER picture of happy me here.
With memories like that and many more, surrounded by all this beauty, how could I not be happy? Besides, I've got the sun in the morning and the moon at night.