Florence and I.
Would you believe me if I told you, the best Lahori biriyani I’ve had is at a quaint restaurant in Florence, Italy?

Stepping into Florence for the first time, from the Santa Maria Novella station, was like entering a whole other dimension. You know, like when Lucy (from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) pushed deep into the back end of a wardrobe and found herself in Narnia?. Okay before you call me dramatic, allow me to explain. I live in Dubai and have lived here for most of my life. Then, late November of 2019, my family and I took a trip to Rome. Rome, quite popularly known as the eternal city, has a quintessential European charm to it. Now, Dubai is about thrice the size of Rome. And Rome, is about 12 times (say whaaa) the size of Florence. Yeah, Florence is a small town. That’s all i’m saying. Phew. Now back to my story. After spending a couple of days in Rome, we got comfortable with it. It seemed like Dubai, with a greater influx of tourists and historic, architectural marvels everywhere. And then, we decided to visit Florence. From the second we set foot, Florence seemed to be moving at a different pace altogether. First off, it was loud. It was crammed. The streets seemed like a never-ending narrow maze. There was loud laughter and constant chatter. Dragging our suitcases along the cobble-stoned streets did not help ease those sounds. It just seemed a little daunting. And because the city is the size of a peanut, everything about it, just hits you at once. That can be overwhelming. I was surely overwhelmed. But that, is the charm of this beautiful city, tucked away in the Tuscan region of central Italy. And that is why, I’ll always want to go back there.

Google Florence, and she will tell you that Florence, is the birthplace of the renaissance. And if you’re not a history buff, chances are, like me, you won’t know what that is. Or maybe you do. Either way, allow me to show off my googling skills. Renaissance (meaning: re-birth), was a period in European history when the lost arts of philosophy, literature and art itself was re-discovered. And the Medici family, the family that ruled Florence for quite a while, were huge advocates of this movement. Florence became home to some of the greatest thinkers, authors and artists in human history. Do you want a name drop? Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Galileo (No big deal). And this art, is everywhere. Florence (like most of Europe I guess?), is an open air museum. With every turn you take along those narrow pathways, you’re bound to see something spectacular.

Walking through this maze is amazing. One hundred percent. And we did it every day. Dawn to dusk. But gazing at the skyline of Florence from a higher vantage point, was something else altogether. We hiked to Piazzale Michelangelo, which is a piazza (a.k.a square) located on a hill at the south bank of the Arno River (i.e. the river that cuts Florence in half). Moments before sunset, my parents and I, settled into a comfy stairway, to watch the sky put on a show. Only, we were distracted by some aggressive making-out by the couple seated behind us. Quickly, pretending like nothing happened, we re-positioned ourselves. This time leaning against an old stone wall at the piazza, to watch the sun set. And my god, was that mesmerizing. It even brought a little tear to my eye. I swear.

The first full day that we were there, by pure coincidence, happened to be a marathon day. And by fluke, we happened to be living right at the city centre, behind the infamous Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, where all the action was. The front of the Cathedral was crowded with people, an insane amount of tourists, official event photographers and videographers, TV stations, everything. All of Florence seemed to be out on the streets that day. For a while, we stood there cheering. Slowly, we started walking toward the next place on our itinerary, the Ponte Vecchio (a.k.a a really cool bridge cutting across the Arno river). But you see, I didn’t factor in the logistical difficulties of walking around in a small town, during a marathon. All the streets were heavily barricaded, and there were volunteers handling the human traffic, at all the crossings. At every crossing, we’d have to stop, let the runners pass, and when the volunteer signaled to us, we’d have to run across. Once we reached the foot of Ponte Vecchio, we realized that the bridge wouldn’t be accessible that day, because of well, the marathon. So there we stood, screaming ‘Bravo!’ and ‘Bravi!’ at the top of our lungs, huddled together with a bunch of strangers from the world over. It was beautiful.

No account of Florence would be complete without talking about the food. But then again, I don’t think Italy in its entirety, is capable of bad food. The ingredients are fresh, and the preparation simple, or so they make it seem. I loaded myself with pizza and pasta, downed wine for lunch and dinner (which apparently is the norm all day, everyday), and stuffed my face with yummy, chewy gelato. My dad, however, had enough with all the pastas and pizzas (But not enough with the wine *coughs* just saying). So we googled ‘Indian restaurants in Florence’ and found one close to where we were, on the other end of Ponte Vecchio. On the way, in an attempt to wipe away the condescending smirk on my face, my dad suggested that I get a snack to munch on. I happily obliged and we stopped by a beautiful little bakery. I stood outside, my gaze shifting from one side to the other, unable to choose. I finally looked up to see an old guy watching intently as I made up my mind. I told him I just want a chocolate croissant, to which he suggested that I try this other, fresh cream croissant that he’d just made. Who could say no to that. So we bought the two, one packed and the other (the chocolate croissant) in hand, we continued the walk to ‘Tandoor’. I still remember the first time I bit into that deliciousness. The croissant had a slight crisp to it on the exterior, but the insides caved it as I bit into it. The chocolate, not too hard and not too soft, was just the right consistency and rich in flavor. The cold chocolate and the warm croissant was pure perfection. Two bites into it, I announced that we drop by and get one on the way back too. Next stop, Tandoor. We ordered a lahori biriyani, some garlic naan and a chicken curry. Now as I’m writing this, I realize that it may have been a bit much for just the three if us, but oh well. Since most of the day was spent outdoors, I get up to find the washroom and the sous-chef (yeah, that’s a guess, but go with it), passes by me with a steel bowl and what looked like fresh whole chicken. The mere fact that I’m an Indian in Italy, he’s an Indian in Italy warranted a real warm greeting and then I was off to my business. It felt nice. 30 minutes later, the fresh smell of garlic enveloped the room. The food we had there, fresh, hot, perfect. I didn’t know chicken could taste so good. Maybe it was the freshness of it all. Maybe I was hungry. But let me tell you, the food there was no joke.

Next up, David and Duomo. When you plan your itinerary for Florence, you’re bound to read ‘David’ and ‘Duomo’ somewhere, everywhere. The Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence is home to the sculpture of David, yes the David-and-Goliath David. Sculpted by Michelangelo, this structure is a visual spectacle. First of all, its huge (Maybe the fact that its propped up, on a pedestal taller than me, has something to do with it) and it is sculpted from a single piece of marble. This statue is life-like, down to the veins popping from David’s unusually large hands. Also, a heads up, he’s butt naked. And it might seem funny how people are unabashedly marveling at this naked man. But once you get over the initial haha, you’ll realize that the visit is absolutely worth it, trust me. The Duomo, which is basically the the terra-cotta adorned dome atop the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, is probably the most recognizable structure in all of Florence. If you’ve ever seen a picture of Florence from an elevated view, whether you know it or not, you’ve seen the Duomo. The sheer size of this dome is going to baffle your mind. If you ever plan a trip there, be sure to book a slot to climb to the top of this Duomo. I couldn’t and I regret it to this day. The view must be breathtaking. Pun-intended. Geddit? The steep climb, narrow stairway, tall, tall building, out of breath, ugh never mind.

I’m not trying to romanticize this city. Maybe Florence is beautiful just like any other Italian or European city. The reason I can’t stop yapping about this city however, is because it made me uncomfortable at first. I wasn’t sure I’d love it. But I did. Head over heels. Like John Green says. Slowly, and then all at once. It dragged me out of my comfort zone, it made me want to see more, do more, be more. And for that reason, I’m eternally grateful. A few wonderful days later, we dragged our suitcases along the cobble-stoned streets again, this time adding to the constant chatter and loud laughter. But not before we ran back to that little bakery, for more freshly baked goodies.

Until next time, Firenze.

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Originally published at https://www.practicethepause.net on March 22, 2020.
['Sneha Mathew']
['Italy', 'Traveling', 'Firenze', 'Travel']