|
|
|
“This whole scene is so unreal; it’s more like setting of a movie than life. No it’s not life, it’s a drama, a dream. And ... ” |
We were finally approaching Florence, and it became very promising: we passed through two great arch-like bridges that stood miles above some deep valleys. However, to my disappointment, we came into the city with no overlook of it from any hilltop. Hereby we came into the city, a city like any other city, but I liked the last hue of sunset set upon its streets, giving it a feeling of quietness and thoughtfulness.
We found our hotel at some back street and I started to like this place. The hotel room was small and had no view, but the bathroom was large and comfortable. The receptionist, or butler, is a man in his 50s, handsome, gray-haired, polite and composed. My mind slipped for a moment wondering what kind of person he is and how has he spent his life in this old city called Florence.
Taking a map together with the patient explanation from our butler, we set off looking for the hallmark of this city, the Duomo. The buildings along the back streets were all decent-looking with more than comfortable size – the first floor usually stands as tall as any bank’s in China – the most luxury or unnecessarily sized buildings in China. And they all had those giant bronze front doors – adding to the sense of decency or even nobility. The buildings were all in silence, and at this hour of the day, it’s unlikely to guess what functions they serve or to whom they belong to, or moreover, are they still occupied? With a slight pitiful feeling about these old buildings, we moved on along the streets shadowed with descending darkness and quietness. A discovery was made along the way of a botanic garden which was part of some botanic college. The garden and its exotic flowers were also shadowed in darkness and could not be distinguished any more. It’s a weird feeling that some blossoming boys and girls are spending their youth in such an old and quite city, studying such a quite and peaceful subject. It’s another kind of life and another kind of world, indeed, to me.
Moving ahead, the back streets led to smaller and darker aisles but more living people were met moving about, and all of a sudden, above the dark aisles up-front, appeared this gigantic, greenish, unfamiliar, unreal, breath-taking form of a cathedral, out of all past experience, expectation, or imagination. Hurried up into the small square (compared with the building), we found the famous Duomo standing in front of us, bathed in a strange mixture of the last twilight with new rising moon light – on the edge of light and darkness, giving out a strange glow of greenish brilliance.
Young travelers from all over the world were sitting or laying down at the foot of it; with back-packs still with them (which made they seem to be coming straight-forward to the Duomo upon arriving the city), some chatting and talking, some staying by themselves, staring out at nothing with a dream-like air, a little bewildered smile, just as under a spell. Under a spell were we all, a spell of the beauty of the architecture, the air around it, the associations and imaginations of the old golden ages of Italian Renaissance with all its legends and glories.
This whole scene is so unreal; it’s more like setting of a movie than life. No it’s not life, it’s a drama, a dream. And we’re all un-volunteered players, wondering about our accidental fall into the time-tunnel, drifting half-dreamily in the Golden Age stolen from time.
Waking up next morning to the up-roaring motor engines, I wondered what’s the use of these motors in this peaceful old city or what’s the matter the people getting up so early hustling about?
And I got the point when we arrived at the same plaza we were at last night: hundreds of tourists were already lining up in a snake-like pattern in front of the Duomo. We got into a shorter queue, which allowed us a look at the dome (which was still under restoration anyway) but not to the top of the Duomo. We chose to get up the campanile tower instead, where we found unparalleled view of the legendary dome. However, no matter how marvelous the details of this history-marking Italian Renaissance masterpiece were revealed under the showering sunshine of early September, the magic, which over-powered us last night, was lost. Day light has undone the spell and undressed the goddess. It’s now a tourist spot and I’m just another tourist.
From Basilica San Lorenzo to Ponte Vecchino, tourists were everywhere, which gave this place a holiday resort atmosphere and I found it hopeless to wait in the line for Uffizi Gallery even with a pre-booking.
An afternoon spent at Piazza Michelangelo, however, restored my happiness and peacefulness. Located at top of one of the hills surrounding Florence, this Piazza offers a view over the city of Florence as well as the Arno and two of its most beautiful bridges.
The eternal David stood above the four other most famous figures from Michelangelo in this large piazza with few tourists.
When the reddish sunset set upon the city and all of its acclaimed landmarks, when the breeze cooled away the hot of the afternoon, when the church bell was heard through the twilight, one felt again the charm of the city and the eternity of time.
previous travel blog entry
Would you like to comment or ask a question?
Sign up for a free account, or sign in (if you're already a member).