Arrival in Florence
Our arrival in Florence was horrible. Well, actually not exactly our arrival since that was pretty perfect as the train was great and I quickly found an information stand with a map and directions to our hotel, so it was the stepping out of the train station that was horrible: the rain was coming down in torrents.
If we had planned to take a cab this would have been workable, but our hotel was only “150 meters” from the station so we had planned on walking. (Believe me, my children have pointed out that it was much farther than 150 meters.)
So it was back into the train station to wait out the rain. Not a bad option since it had plenty of food and space and people to watch and ticket machines so I could check times for our train to Venice. But after one shared piece of pizza and cup of ice cream (in disguise as gelato) we were ready to try walking since the rain seemed to be letting up. It must have been watching us because as soon as we were across the street and past the point of turning back, it started pouring again.
You know the term “gully washer?” Well, we were in one and the water flowed in rivers next to the curbs so each time we crossed one we had to lift our suitcases so they would go over instead of through four inches of water. When the rain was particularly torrential and there was a convenient overhang we stopped and watched the rain with everyone else clustered under the overhang.
But we did find our hotel and the room is huge and lovely. However, the wet clothes strewn around don’t help the décor. john and I had rainish coats and Scotty and Caitlin had umbrellas but we still all had to change. Plus various of articles inside our suitcases got wet. Still it could have been worse and despite our mad dash I’m quite taken with Florence. Even when very, very wet it is charming and interesting.
And while Louise found the people in Rome to be rude, so far I’ve found the Florence ones quite charming. The low point of our walk was when I came to Number 77 on our street and it was basically a wall. I quickly ducked into the café across from the wall bearing the number and showed my hotel information to a lady in the café who promptly and in very good humor told me it was on the other side of the intersection. “Trust me!” she proclaimed. “It is there.” Actually, she was very Louise like so I instinctively believed her. Anyway, she was right. I now understand why the lady at the information booth said she couldn’t tell me which way to turn. The numbers on our side started at 81, went up, then down to 40, and finally, 77.
July 29th, 2010 at 3:05 pm
Our arrieval in Firenzi was also by train but from Milano and also by night. A longish walk in the dark but no rain and we found our pension easily. Your experience shows why when in Italy people take tours.
July 30th, 2010 at 2:27 pm
Our pre-booked hotels have worked out really well. They are small enough so when we walk in say “We are the Stewarts” they say “Yes” and start the paperwork. We have vouchers for each hotel so we just show them that and don’t pay since we did that months ago.