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Here, street art comes in watercolours and Mediterranean tans. The latter being those Florentine men of crooked smiles and liquid eyes. If they languidly trail you for attention, please give it. It is as close as you will ever get to the original David.
Like our hearts, Florence is incredibly arterial, pumped with the full-bloodedness that comes from drinking great wine and eating heartily, exults Bandana Tewari, fresh from her sojourn to the Italian Mecca of art
The view from my window was breathtaking. The splendour of Florence from Torre di Bellosguardo, a 14th century Florentine castle, nestled amidst whispering trees and sunshine daisies, was indeed a sight that could make you levitate. Not, of course, if you were weighed down by two bottles of Chianti as I was, caught between moments of extreme pleasure and well, hangover. But I was in Renaissance city, the cradle of civilisation, where masters of craft – Michelangelo and Machiavelli – both had lived. This was the city that housed my favourite painting, Bacchus by Caravaggio. Surely the master dipsomaniac himself would forgive me.
Florence is a city museum. Walking around Piazza Della Signoria is like being in an open air sculpture museum. Look around. There is Cellini’s Perseus, the son of Jupiter who killed macabre Medusa with the help of borrowed weapons. Pluto’s helmet of invisibility, Mercury’s winged sandals and Minerva’s shield helped him reduce the snake-haired monster to dust. There is Giambologna’s heart-rending Rape of the Sabine Women. Look to your left and the sculptural rhapsody of Neptune rising from the Fountain surrounded by nereids (nymphs of the sea), tritons (trumpeters of the sea) and sea horses will keep you mesmerised. If at this point you see the sculpture of Michelangelo’s David piercing you in contemplative silence, remember, he is beautiful, but for the worship of the original David, the quintessential Renaissance Man, you have to go to Galleria dell’ Academia. Carry your smelling salts. This is as close as you will ever get to a perfect man.
With straticella gelato in your hand (ask for it in a wispy choco-cone), stroll down Via Guicciardini. Create a little childhood magic and visit La Bottega Di Leonardo, an enchanting curio store with handmade dolls reminiscent of pixie wonderland. One look at ‘Cip & Ciop’, two inseparable doll friends and you will find yourself cooing with baby love. I couldn’t resist buying Cip, only in the hope that one day, my one-year-old daughter would visit this very store and pick up Ciop to complete the set.
End your day with the city at your feet from Piazza del Michelangelo where all of Florence embraces you within its twilight haze. And remember, a trip to the Uffizi Gallery the next, will leave you stunned before such masterpieces as Titian’s Venus of Urbino or Botticelli’s Allegory of Spring…and you can stop praying. You may be in heaven. But, one last thing. For the sins of the earth, search out Caravaggio’s Bacchus. Yes, that old favourite of mine. He is the reason why I forfeit my heaven for the pleasures of the earth. He could very well be yours. Cin Cin!
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