Our first trip to Florence, Firence as they say. We entered the city from the north, passing through endless streets lined with hundreds of market stalls selling leather goods, jewelry and the obligatory touristy rubbish. It became clear to me after about 10 min into the market that I had too little money with me – all them leather bags were screaming for me!! I especially fell in love with an incredibly beautiful clutch… so we decided to come back next day equipped with more money and time.
Obviously we were heading to the dome. If there is a ranking for the most beautiful buildings on earth… this should be somewhere at the top. I can not put into words how enchanted we were by it and the pictures just don’t do it any justice which is simply frustrating me. A couple of asian women were selling scarfes outside and furiously pointing at our uncovered bodies – we found out at the door that shorts are a no go and arms and shoulders have to be covered too to enter the dome. Lucky us had bought a couple of scarves earlier before at one of the stalls so we wrapped up like hippies and headed inside. To be honest with you, the inside is much less impressive than the outside. But the entry is free so… The cupola is quite imposing as well as the marble all over decor (especially the floor) but apart from that it is quite – well – vast. And empty. I’d rather spend my time adoring the outside. Or the Bapisterium… Or the bell tower…
Anyways, we decided to explore the rest of the north and came across a lot. Especially a lot of churches. Oh yes, if Italy has one thing more than anything it’s churches. Don’t get me wrong, I loooove churches – and insisted on visiting each and every single one – but apart from that you will find very little buildings worth mentioning in a tourist guide.
So about 20 churches and 20 miles through the maze that Florence’s streets are, we needed an icecream. Usually they are about 2-3€ for two flavours so we stopped at the next gelateria. Michelle ordered first, two flavours in a cup. While she went off to the till to get her cup and pay, I ordered. Next moment she turns to me in shock saying: “Don’t get one. It’s 9€!” I stared back at her in shock, unable to decide what to do. Obviously we were to surprised to react any other way than pay, leave and bitch about it as soon as we were out of reach. It was on top of that probably the worst ice cream I have ever had and we had to throw away half of it. At least there is one thing I learned – do not buy an ice cream in Italy without asking for a specific price! GEIER!