24 Blog Post September 26, 2024 “Sanctuary”

Travel is stressful, even when it’s wonderful. Today was stressful. We began the day in Venice. Remember that Venice was the city I did not want to visit? It has become the city I fell in love with—not like I fell in love with the Isle of Mull. Mull surprised me with it’s ruggedness and isolation. Venice’s water delighted me every day, and the way the water played a part in everyday life was a joy to me. I fell for the secret piazzas we found on our travels, piazzas with restaurants that glowed with life and conversation until late in the evening. There was something about Venice that captured me, and as we buzzed to the train station in our private water taxi—yes, it was one of those beautiful Chris Craft-type boats—I felt the tug of leaving and was sad for this part to end. We did not stay long enough, but having any time was a gift, I know.

The train station in any city on a good day is challenging. They don’t post the gates for the trains until 15 minutes before, so we waited to find out where the train was going to be, staring at the electronic board, and then, raced to the train to get on in time. And then there are those suitcases that we have to drag around, lift onto the train, find a space for…it just causes so much anxiety for me. But it all worked out.

Three hours later, our super-fast train (literally, not just saying that. Our train travelled at 249 km an hour!) was pulling into Firenze, the Italian name for Florence which I love so much more that the English name—doesn’t it sound so alive and full of energy? Firenze!
One of the ways I connect with a new destination is that I ‘discover’ the smell of a place. Milan was the dusky rose perfume that seemed to fill the air. Venice, of course, was salt water. As soon as I stepped off the train, Florence smelled like…truffles! Not the chocolate kind but the mushrooms that grow beneath the surface of the earth, the valuable fungi that cost about $400 per pound. I know that art is what Florence is known for, but I sensed food as soon as we got off the train, and I was not wrong. Food is a huge theme here, from the many trattorias and restaurants to the Florence Mercato, a giant, three story food warehouse featuring every kind of fish, meat, vegetable, pastry, bread, biscotti and so much more for sale—all locally sourced. Remember the drippy sandwiches we ate yesterday? Florence also has their meat-centric version that people stand in huge lines to order. And remember, these are not sit-down sandwiches. People are then standing on corners, cramming into any space they can find in order to eat these giant, overstuffed creations!

Meat is especially prized in Florence, with wild boar meat featured prominently on most menus. Raw meat is also prominently displayed in most restaurant windows so you can see what you are ordering. As a non-meat eater, that doesn’t bother me at all, but I sensed this was going to be a more difficult city for vegetarian options. I was correct, but it’s not impossible to find great food—even a simple pizza in Italy is a work of art, and pizza is always an option here. But I did get to eat a local vegetarian speciality—Ribolleta or bread soup. Onions, carrots, and celery simmer in rich vegetable stock. White beans, rosemary, white wine and olive oil are added and finally, stale bread thickens the whole thing until it is a rich, satisfying stew.

But Florence had an immediately different vibe for me, and not one that was comforting. Florence is hot, much hotter than Venice with its cool sea breezes, and it is crowded. The sidewalks are miniscule compared to usual walkways and they are packed with people. Today a man fell off the edge of the sidewalk into the street and we rushed over to help him. We were trying to pack too many people into too small a space. For those of you who love this city, give me time, but I don’t think I will be falling in love with Florence as I fell in love with Venice. It is also a dirtier city, with trash piled high in some places. We experienced a more aggressive pitch to connect with tourists as well. Something in Florence has created immediate friction for me.

Then we arrived at our hotel, the Loggiata del Serviti. Loggia means open plaza or portico, and we have both right outside our door. The hotel is situated on the historic Piazza della Santissima Annunziata (the Square of the Most Holy Annunciation—it is ALL about Mary here in Italy) and this hotel once again combines a traditional building with more modern conveniences. So while we don’t have a full balcony as we had at the Hotel Lancaster in Milan, we have windows with shutters that completely open up to let in the air and the sun. I felt an immediate sense of calm and comfort when we arrived here, and I also felt absolutely exhausted. So after opening those wonderful windows, I knew I needed a nap. After laying down, a series of musical practices floated up to our window. First a woman practiced her voice lessons, but just two notes, over and over, beautiful and clear and strong. Shortly after her practice, a flutist began to practice and was quite a disciplined virtuoso. Scales and other exercises went on for over 2 hours, and we assume the person was a professional. That unexpected music became the backdrop for the sanctuary of this room.
Sanctuary. Sometimes the bigger place is the safe space, like the entire city of Venice which felt like my playground. We spent almost no time in our room while we were in Venice. But in Florence, the hotel room is the restoration space, the center, the gift—the sanctuary. We use that word in church all the time and we forget what it means. A sanctuary is a safe gathering spot, a place where time can seem suspended and our souls and bodies can dwell and be still.

After sleeping, we made the famous walk up to the Piazza de Michaelangelo, which is a hill overlooking all of Florence. While it was beautiful, I was happy to get back to this room and to open the windows again—did I mention that we can see the museum atrium where Michaelangelo’s David is housed from our window?

Tomorrow we will tour that museum and also another spectacular church, the Santa Maria del Fiore, which is, once again, one of the largest churches in the world. For tonight rest and restoration, comfort and blessing are God’s gifts that nourish me.

(Post script: as I wrote this, fireworks were going off in the city and I leaned my head out the window to catch the few that I could see. Magical. They marked the final celebration for the Calcio Storico, begun in Florence in the 16th century, which is a combination of football, rugby and world wrestling , and which is played in historical costumes. We missed this whole celebration except for the sight and sound of the faraway fireworks.)

May you be nourished by rest today.
ML+