Getting lost in Florence and loving it
June 27, 2004 | 12:00am
After what seemed like forever, what with passports being misplaced, immigration cards missing, and tickets interchanged, we finally boarded our Air France flight to Paris on our way to Firenze. It was wise to use our mileage plus which helped us with our excess baggage. Apart from the efficient ground service in all Air France counters, all flight attendants were extremely pleasant. We had a very good Air France experience on this trip beginning with Tessa de Guzman of Air France Philippines.
Just one sad note, however. There were no tourists leaving Manila but the plane was full from Bangkok to Paris with tourists going back to Europe or Asians on their way to Europe. The lack of tourists from Manila was very noticeable. Our government needs kinder news reporting or we’ll drive the last vestiges of visitors-adventurers.
But let’s put this behind us and focus on little discoveries that make life bearable after the tedious electoral process, especially those who actively supported their candidates who certainly deserve a break from all this. I personally needed a vacation and my daughter’s wedding couldn’t have come at a better time.
After being airborne for 16 hours, I finally was able to embrace my daughter and Andrea, my son-in-law to be, as well as see my cousin Raul, Mai-Mai’s love and favorite uncle. With baggage in order, we then drove to Casa Siena, our rented villa in Via Broncolano, Firenze. Our neighbors were Lucille and Nick Locsin with Stephan (Lucille’s son), Conrad Onglao and his son Kenji, and Chingbee and Bobby Cuenca. I wondered who opened the kitchen windows daily. Perhaps it was the two energetic teenage boys, who would wake up earlier than their parents and go to sleep again like their jetlagged parents.
Being the first to wake up early in the morning, I would go around the corner to visit my neighbors with a wake-up call. But always, whenever I would ring the doorbell, nobody would answer. Tired of waiting for someone to open the door and determined not to quit, I had to be creative. So I went my way around the house and found the floor-to-ceiling window half open. Most homes in Italy have high windows. There are less thieves, I presumed, and Bobby’s villa had kitchen windows that could double up as doors. So I leaned over and released the lock below the window’s lower portion, converted the window into a door, and squeezed myself between the kitchen faucet and wine bottles. I jumped over the brick counter and voila, I was inside the house. "Is anyone awake? Wake up!" I called out.
What a great life it was to simply sit at the terraza of Casa Siena and watch the hills of Tuscany. My son-in-law, Jojo Guingona, commented, "Imagine the wars between the Italians and the Americans in those hills, Mom." I answered, "How about the early Etruscans, the first inhabitants of those beautiful hills who have now almost disappeared along with their culture. There was so much to learn and celebrate just being alive and in a country as rich in history as Italy! What a laidback life but what an expensive city! Or maybe our peso’s value is just too low and the Euro so high, even higher than the American dollar. What a joy to be with my whole family among the brisk and emotional Florentines! Workers in their coats and ties, as well as women in rubber shoes or high heels, zoom through the winding roads and by the high walls of Tuscan homes on their bikes or motorbikes. Biking! Maybe we should have been doing the same, considering the high price of gasoline in Florence.
Every ancient building in Florence possesses breathtakingly architectural details. Andrea lives in a 400-year-old building. Not the kind where a door opens into a courtyard with elegant apartamentos inside, but in a structure so ancient and yet so modern inside. Now compare that with his Hong Kong apartment which he tried to sell. The Chinese realtors told him, "You have a three-year-old apartment. It’s got to be a cheaper sale, because it’s quite old." "Cheaper?! Three years! I live in a 400-year-old building!" was Andrea’s reply.
How culture and values differ indeed. In the Philippines, we break down old historical buildings to erect offices or an overpass, in the process killing structures that remind us of our roots. In Florence, it is against the law to even paint the windows without a permit to avoid altering the look of this beautiful and historic city.
What simple joy it was to watch little Robbie, my three-year-old grandson, chase numerous doves at the piazza in front of the Siena Cathedral. We fed the doves cookies and when the birds dove for them, Robbie ran away. When they flew he ran after them. "Robbie, we didn’t come here to chase birds. Let’s enter the church," I said. There was so much to gape at in the serene Siena Cathedral, which could have been the Duomo of Florence. Built in 1188, its patron saints are St. Bonifacio and St. Assano. So much to do and see, and always so little time.
It pays to read and learn about the place as you tour every road, the countryside and the Centro. I learned a great deal during the week of Mai and Andrea’s wedding. For example, a strong gust of wind blew several bottles of wine off the table during the wedding. Spontaneously, the Italian shouted and cheered the accident. I wondered why. Well, I found out that it was to stop bad luck by countering it with boisterousness. The Russians and Chinese also share the same custom.
Another adventure made me see the wisdom of the saying, "While there’s a road, there’s a way." This happened when Lulu and I got lost on the freeway and sidestreets several times, but found our way home eventually. To move around easily, we decided to rent a car. Noel and Liaa had one, Jojo and Pin had another and so did Dodot and Mikee. Peping rented a car for his own use, with his assistant Aldrin, and I had Lulu to drive my car. We had a convoy of five cars five cars that added to Florence’s narrow streets and lack of parking space. But whenever possible, we always resorted to walking. Anyway, that’s what Florentines and tourists do around the city. Besides, it is a regulation to preserve cobblestone roads and keep the city pollution free.
Now, driving in a foreign country – it’s cities and outskirts – is being in unfamiliar territory. Inspite of it being our third visit to Florence, we still ended up confused by the small signs closely stuck together on the freeway. It seems a speed-reading course is essential for foreign visitors, apart from having lots of courage and self-confidence to make it through unfamiliar avenues. But there we were trying to show off that we had learned fast and led the way to the airport with Noel and Alex following. We were to fetch Peping and the rest of my family at the airport. Andrea decided to just meet us at the airport because we said we’d find our way there. We knew we had to pass through the freeway but the first hurdle was the forked road. We took the right fork by instinct. "Roma," was the first sign we encountered. Lulu, looking at rear view mirror, saw Noel hesitate. Correctly so, because we found out soon enough that we were on the wrong freeway. He texted us take the Firenze Nord, but it was too late. I’m sure that at one point or another, all of you have experienced getting lost. And the freeway isn’t the place to stop nor slow down. It seemed after a while that we were violating some laws. Luckily, those handsome Polizia didn’t appear from out of nowhere. Here are some pointers for future lost motorists in Florence and how to get out of their dilemma.
Assuming that you’re already lost or at least your instincts tell you that you are, keep your cellphone handy. Technology can get you off your quandary. Call a person you’re meeting and ask for clear directions. During my trip though, I couldn’t call, but I could text. I had this call barring password, which I forgot unfortunately. I take so long to text on any phone other than my oversized Nokia, so that delayed us further. We were completely lost. The church with the green roof was nowhere in sight. The castle was gone. Bologna-Roma signs were nowhere to be seen, the vineyards seemed fewer. So we looked for the first exit we could find to leave the freeway.
Italians are a gracious people. We asked a man at a curb for directions to the aeroporto and, with his hands and body, pointed to the right. Of course, he didn’t mention that we were heading for another three-forked road. Do we go straight? Turn right up or left towards the bridge or the service road? Well, we didn’t have much time to think because cars were honking behind us. We decided to take the service road. At least we would be within the city limits. Soon after, the sign to Siena appeared. We were heading that way two days before the wedding!
We decided to open our tiny Firenze map. Yes, bring a map and put on your hazard lights. It’s not always easy to read a map. Remember to familiarize yourself with landmarks like the church with the green roof.
An all-important advice: Don’t be embarrassed to ask for directions. We accosted two elderly men talking in front of a car repair shop and asked. "Señore..." here went the Spanish and the sign language. The men didn’t speak any English nor Spanish but they did understand "aeroporto". "Si, si!" pointing their tired hands and bodies indicating a right turn. We were like children playing charades. "Grazie, Señore." We were on our way again. I speak fluent Spanish and this was quite helpful. Italian and Spanish words sometimes converge, being Latin-based. But, if you’re going to another country, it’s wise for you to learn some important words for "Good morning", "Goodbye", "Thank you", "Where and how much?" If you don’t, you’ll get a smile that indicates sorry and be left alone. And bring a dictionary.
Following the directions of the two men was very helpful. It led us back to the roads where we saw signs of "aeroporto" and suddenly, there appeared an aircraft. "Follow the plane across the street!" I told Lulu. "I’ll do whatever you want me to do, ma’am, but I’m sorry this car can’t go under the underpass and won’t fly," she said. So, again we asked a man in a car wash. At last! We got clearer directions!
Finally, we entered the road to the airport. We were quite sure we were going to get it from my waiting family and hungry travelers. To our disbelief, we arrived ahead of everyone, which gave us a good laugh. Noel was behind us and Andrea too, and they were shocked we had found our way! "It pays to get lost," we said. "After all, we won having gotten here first!"
Just remember: Keep your sense of humor because as long as there’s a road, there’s a way! And that includes the "highways" in our life. Whatever opportunity comes your way, grab it without reservations. Never be afraid of whatever the outcome may be. Simply live, laugh learn and laugh.
Just one sad note, however. There were no tourists leaving Manila but the plane was full from Bangkok to Paris with tourists going back to Europe or Asians on their way to Europe. The lack of tourists from Manila was very noticeable. Our government needs kinder news reporting or we’ll drive the last vestiges of visitors-adventurers.
But let’s put this behind us and focus on little discoveries that make life bearable after the tedious electoral process, especially those who actively supported their candidates who certainly deserve a break from all this. I personally needed a vacation and my daughter’s wedding couldn’t have come at a better time.
After being airborne for 16 hours, I finally was able to embrace my daughter and Andrea, my son-in-law to be, as well as see my cousin Raul, Mai-Mai’s love and favorite uncle. With baggage in order, we then drove to Casa Siena, our rented villa in Via Broncolano, Firenze. Our neighbors were Lucille and Nick Locsin with Stephan (Lucille’s son), Conrad Onglao and his son Kenji, and Chingbee and Bobby Cuenca. I wondered who opened the kitchen windows daily. Perhaps it was the two energetic teenage boys, who would wake up earlier than their parents and go to sleep again like their jetlagged parents.
Being the first to wake up early in the morning, I would go around the corner to visit my neighbors with a wake-up call. But always, whenever I would ring the doorbell, nobody would answer. Tired of waiting for someone to open the door and determined not to quit, I had to be creative. So I went my way around the house and found the floor-to-ceiling window half open. Most homes in Italy have high windows. There are less thieves, I presumed, and Bobby’s villa had kitchen windows that could double up as doors. So I leaned over and released the lock below the window’s lower portion, converted the window into a door, and squeezed myself between the kitchen faucet and wine bottles. I jumped over the brick counter and voila, I was inside the house. "Is anyone awake? Wake up!" I called out.
What a great life it was to simply sit at the terraza of Casa Siena and watch the hills of Tuscany. My son-in-law, Jojo Guingona, commented, "Imagine the wars between the Italians and the Americans in those hills, Mom." I answered, "How about the early Etruscans, the first inhabitants of those beautiful hills who have now almost disappeared along with their culture. There was so much to learn and celebrate just being alive and in a country as rich in history as Italy! What a laidback life but what an expensive city! Or maybe our peso’s value is just too low and the Euro so high, even higher than the American dollar. What a joy to be with my whole family among the brisk and emotional Florentines! Workers in their coats and ties, as well as women in rubber shoes or high heels, zoom through the winding roads and by the high walls of Tuscan homes on their bikes or motorbikes. Biking! Maybe we should have been doing the same, considering the high price of gasoline in Florence.
Every ancient building in Florence possesses breathtakingly architectural details. Andrea lives in a 400-year-old building. Not the kind where a door opens into a courtyard with elegant apartamentos inside, but in a structure so ancient and yet so modern inside. Now compare that with his Hong Kong apartment which he tried to sell. The Chinese realtors told him, "You have a three-year-old apartment. It’s got to be a cheaper sale, because it’s quite old." "Cheaper?! Three years! I live in a 400-year-old building!" was Andrea’s reply.
How culture and values differ indeed. In the Philippines, we break down old historical buildings to erect offices or an overpass, in the process killing structures that remind us of our roots. In Florence, it is against the law to even paint the windows without a permit to avoid altering the look of this beautiful and historic city.
It pays to read and learn about the place as you tour every road, the countryside and the Centro. I learned a great deal during the week of Mai and Andrea’s wedding. For example, a strong gust of wind blew several bottles of wine off the table during the wedding. Spontaneously, the Italian shouted and cheered the accident. I wondered why. Well, I found out that it was to stop bad luck by countering it with boisterousness. The Russians and Chinese also share the same custom.
Another adventure made me see the wisdom of the saying, "While there’s a road, there’s a way." This happened when Lulu and I got lost on the freeway and sidestreets several times, but found our way home eventually. To move around easily, we decided to rent a car. Noel and Liaa had one, Jojo and Pin had another and so did Dodot and Mikee. Peping rented a car for his own use, with his assistant Aldrin, and I had Lulu to drive my car. We had a convoy of five cars five cars that added to Florence’s narrow streets and lack of parking space. But whenever possible, we always resorted to walking. Anyway, that’s what Florentines and tourists do around the city. Besides, it is a regulation to preserve cobblestone roads and keep the city pollution free.
Now, driving in a foreign country – it’s cities and outskirts – is being in unfamiliar territory. Inspite of it being our third visit to Florence, we still ended up confused by the small signs closely stuck together on the freeway. It seems a speed-reading course is essential for foreign visitors, apart from having lots of courage and self-confidence to make it through unfamiliar avenues. But there we were trying to show off that we had learned fast and led the way to the airport with Noel and Alex following. We were to fetch Peping and the rest of my family at the airport. Andrea decided to just meet us at the airport because we said we’d find our way there. We knew we had to pass through the freeway but the first hurdle was the forked road. We took the right fork by instinct. "Roma," was the first sign we encountered. Lulu, looking at rear view mirror, saw Noel hesitate. Correctly so, because we found out soon enough that we were on the wrong freeway. He texted us take the Firenze Nord, but it was too late. I’m sure that at one point or another, all of you have experienced getting lost. And the freeway isn’t the place to stop nor slow down. It seemed after a while that we were violating some laws. Luckily, those handsome Polizia didn’t appear from out of nowhere. Here are some pointers for future lost motorists in Florence and how to get out of their dilemma.
Italians are a gracious people. We asked a man at a curb for directions to the aeroporto and, with his hands and body, pointed to the right. Of course, he didn’t mention that we were heading for another three-forked road. Do we go straight? Turn right up or left towards the bridge or the service road? Well, we didn’t have much time to think because cars were honking behind us. We decided to take the service road. At least we would be within the city limits. Soon after, the sign to Siena appeared. We were heading that way two days before the wedding!
We decided to open our tiny Firenze map. Yes, bring a map and put on your hazard lights. It’s not always easy to read a map. Remember to familiarize yourself with landmarks like the church with the green roof.
An all-important advice: Don’t be embarrassed to ask for directions. We accosted two elderly men talking in front of a car repair shop and asked. "Señore..." here went the Spanish and the sign language. The men didn’t speak any English nor Spanish but they did understand "aeroporto". "Si, si!" pointing their tired hands and bodies indicating a right turn. We were like children playing charades. "Grazie, Señore." We were on our way again. I speak fluent Spanish and this was quite helpful. Italian and Spanish words sometimes converge, being Latin-based. But, if you’re going to another country, it’s wise for you to learn some important words for "Good morning", "Goodbye", "Thank you", "Where and how much?" If you don’t, you’ll get a smile that indicates sorry and be left alone. And bring a dictionary.
Following the directions of the two men was very helpful. It led us back to the roads where we saw signs of "aeroporto" and suddenly, there appeared an aircraft. "Follow the plane across the street!" I told Lulu. "I’ll do whatever you want me to do, ma’am, but I’m sorry this car can’t go under the underpass and won’t fly," she said. So, again we asked a man in a car wash. At last! We got clearer directions!
Finally, we entered the road to the airport. We were quite sure we were going to get it from my waiting family and hungry travelers. To our disbelief, we arrived ahead of everyone, which gave us a good laugh. Noel was behind us and Andrea too, and they were shocked we had found our way! "It pays to get lost," we said. "After all, we won having gotten here first!"
Just remember: Keep your sense of humor because as long as there’s a road, there’s a way! And that includes the "highways" in our life. Whatever opportunity comes your way, grab it without reservations. Never be afraid of whatever the outcome may be. Simply live, laugh learn and laugh.
BrandSpace Articles
<
>