Tickets on myself

This was a quieter day. We began with Lyn shopping unsuccessfully for shoes. (She failed to find shoes in Rome in 2013. She could well be the only woman in history who couldn't find shoes she wanted in Italy...)

Then we went to The Basilica of San Lorenzo. It was meant to have a facade by Michelangelo but it was never even started, which leaves it looking rather dull from the outside. The part that most impressed me was the beautifully simple Old Sacristy, designed by Brunelleschi with interior design by Donatello. More comical was a huge fresco of the martyrdom of St Lorenzo by Bronzini. The artist seems to have been very keen on muscular figures. The result is that the martyrdom of St Lawrence looks more like a fancy-dress bodybuilder's convention. Arnolfo Swarzennegenos posture and grapple while steroidal angels swoop about. 

We then walked across the river to Oltrarno to visit the Brancacchi Chapel. This is a masterpiece representing the combined efforts of Masolino, Massacchio and Fra Lippo Lippi. Next door is the refectory with the usual painting of the Last Supper. Lyn spotted cats under the table.

sailko

On the way back I recorded Lyn, a Florentine lamppost and Ossignanti in the background. 

We went back to Mercato Centrale for lunch. I got my ticket but the lady didn't take my money. The food was ready and I protested that I had not paid. She pointed out I must have paid because I had a ticket. I said I had not. She said no I must be mistaken because I had a ticket. It seemed the only way out of this impasse was to eat either the food or my ticket. I graciously accepted that I must have paid ... How else could I be in possession of a ticket?

Walking back through the local piazza I puzzled again over the two obelisks supported by bronze tortoises. Pigeons live there, despite the fishing line deployed to keep them out. It turns out that a Medici slogan was "Hasten slowly" so tortoises became a favourite motif.

Lyn went home for sleeps and I set out to climb the dome of the cathedral. I went in search of a ticket. The first line I joined was the line to climb the bell tower, not the dome. I deduced that a line I had seen previously on the opposite side of the cathedral must be the dome line. I did half a lap to discover, yes, it was the line, yes I needed a ticket, but no, tickets could not be bought there. Another bewildered patron, one of many, said she was told the ticket could be bought at Shop 7. Shop 7 turned out to be a sporting goods store so  ... no ticket. I remembered that on the farthest side of the piazza there was a tourist information centre. I did another half lap. Yes, I needed a ticket. Yes, the ticket office was the other side of the piazza. Off I went. There were 4 ticket machines. Two were out of order. One took cash only. A large crowd was trying, unsuccessfully, to inveigle it into surrendering a ticket. I went to the 'credit card only' machine, pressed the requisite buttons, and was told the transaction had failed. I found a counter with real people. They sold me a ticket. I walked back to the cathedral. After that, I reasoned, climbing the dome should be a snap.

It was a physical ordeal. It was also brilliant. From the gallery you could both look down to the cathedral floor far below and around you at the frescoes and windows. Then I climbed between the inner and outer domes seeing close up the brickwork that made up the cupola. Finally I emerged at the top to see the best view of Florence. I was inspired to take my first selfie.

I returned home jelly-legged. Lyn woke up in the early evening and felt like a walk. We walked back to Oltrarno, to Piazza Santo Spirito, for aperitivo. On the way I took a snap of Florence at sunset. We passed a black tie do. They are setting up for some big event here on Saturday.

I'll finish with two photos of the endlessly fascinating Italian police.