Forever Florence

October 11, 2003-Night From Hell
(photo:Ciro's al fresco)

We returned to the hotel after an appropriately late dinner so I was writing the email until 1 AM. I dropped into bed and thought I’d pass out. My nose began to twitch when I detected an unpleasant odor. The sheets smelled like urine. It was probably a chemical in the detergent they use but the association was unavoidable. As I nodded off at 2 AM an argument erupted in the hall near our room. It might have been interesting to listen to if it wasn’t in Italian. It eventually died down and I drifted off once again. At 3 AM the person in the room next to us returned. There was a toilet flush, water sounds, silence, and then the TV was cranked up loud enough for us to enjoy every word… except it was in Italian, of course.

My quiet fuming became desperation when I remembered a friend who had to keep the TV on in order to sleep. This was impossible to accept so I took what I considered to be a logical step. I called the desk and told them about the noise. They assured me they’d come upstairs and speak to our neighbor. Time limped along and no one came to our rescue. I called the desk again and explained that I would call the room myself but didn’t speak Italian. I once again asked for their intervention. This time they carried through on their promise. At 4 AM the TV was silenced. We had to be up at 8:15 AM. Four hours sleep is a long nap. We felt sorry for ourselves and remembered back to the last time we had noisy neighbors. It was during our stay in Australia. It was just after midnight when we called the management to complain. It was Sept. 12th in Australia. It was Sept. 11th in the U.S. That’s how we learned about the 9/11attack on the World Trade Center.

Sukkot Italiano

Amazingly we functioned quite well on no sleep. We walked to the old synagogue for services. It’s Sukkot, a harvest festival when Jews build temporary shelters resembling those in which Israelites lived while wandering in the desert for forty years. The synagogue and adjacent school were behind a twenty-foot high elaborate iron gate. There was a security check of our bags and we had to check our cameras. The exterior of the domed building was made of alternating strips of tan and terra cotta color marble. The interior was Moorish. Restoration was going on and scaffolding was as much a part of the synagogue as it is in the churches here. The floors were marble in geometric patterns and stars of David. Every surface of walls and ceilings were painted with multi-hued intricate designs. Think Tangier Restaurant if you live in Akron. Think Plum Street Temple in Cincinnati if you know it. Think Alhambra if you’ve been to Spain. Think psychedelic if you remember the 70’s.

It’s an orthodox synagogue so Karen and I dutifully went up two flights of steps to a musty gallery for women. When we stood we could peer through a wrought iron screen at the activity below but when seated our view was blocked by a low wall. There were few women upstairs. We later found out there was a women’s section behind a screen on the ground floor. In all, there were over one hundred people attending including several children.

The service was all in Hebrew, which is the beauty of being able to worship anywhere in the world. The Catholics made a big mistake by doing away with Latin. The torah covers were tapestry and were fuller than the tailored ones we use. They were gathered at the top, flared at the hem, and covered the scrolls much as a dress would. A strong and melodic all male choir enhanced by the natural acoustics completed the picture. The words were the same but tunes were different. It was like trying to sing the lyrics of Oklahoma to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner. The sermon was preached from an elevated pulpit like those seen in cathedrals. I’m sure every word of the sermon was clear as a bell but since it was in Italian we didn’t benefit from the message.

On our way out David wanted to make a donation. It was an awkward moment. Some of the men wouldn’t take money on the Sabbath but didn’t want to miss out. One suggested we mail it to them. Another decided to find someone who would take the money but wanted to be sure we were comfortable that it would in fact go to the synagogue and not in that man’s pocket.

Chianti Giggles

We headed for the central market near Piazza San Lorenzo and marveled at how the faces of the people on the street resembled those in the paintings of the old masters we’d seen in the museums. We’re staying in the old city center so all the buildings are old to ancient. The entry doors are twenty feet high, heavily carved wood, and framed in massive stones arches. We shopped for tomorrow’s lunch, which will be a roadside picnic. A woman from Wash., DC who left the U.S. after 9/11 waited on us. We bought fruit, tomatoes, a myriad of dried fruit, and tasted olive oils and balsamic vinegars. Depending on the age with older being better the vinegar could cost as much as $80. It was so sweet that Italians use it as an ice-cream topping. At the stand across the aisle we bought an aged peccorino cheese, fresh goat cheese, Parmesan, and mozzarella.

We lunched at Ciro and Sons enjoying their fine Neapolitan pizza this time. We downed a bottle of Chianti and joked around with the adorable brothers. We lost count of how many there are but each one is sweeter and cuter than the next. We told them that we’d send them the picture we took of them the other night when a friend of ours is in Florence on business in November. They were thrilled and are looking forward to it. I don’t know what set us off. Maybe it was the Chianti, but we were laughing so hard that by the time we got back to the hotel Karen had wet her pants. She gave me permission to tell you all that.

We went back to the market area to do schlock shopping at the outside stalls. There were no bargains but some of the items were cheap and attractive. Karen and I wandered into a hole-in-the-wall grocery store. How small was it? The aisles were so narrow we couldn’t pass each other without Karen almost knocking over a display of toilet paper. That set off the giggles again. I guess we’re going to do laundry more frequently than planned.

Toby