A day in the life of an American in Florence

It seems that, after international trips, I usually come home and find—to my regret—I didn’t take as many photos as I would have liked that show what everyday life is like in that country. Part of the problem is that as a tourist, you never get all that clear a sense of what life really *is* for the locals; we usually tend to get a sterile view of what it means to be a resident of any particular place until we’ve lived there a while. With this in mind, I offer up this little photo-documentary of a typical morning in my little world. Apologies in advance to those who will undoubtedly be bored stiff by this blog entry, and thanks for allowing me this brief self-indulgence. Clicking on any image will get you a large version.

Every day begins in the shower. Here’s another shot of the bathroom; to better imagine what I couldn’t show you in this picture, keep in mind that I shot it from a semi-prone position on my bed.










On to the dining room, which is where I work and write blogs. My laptop is visible in the picture, as well as my Flashtrax and a few assorted foodstuffs. The doorway to the left leads to the bedroom, and the infamous bathroom is immediately to the left after that door.


Here's our living room, viewed from the front door. In the foreground at the very top of the picture are ceiling beams that just barely clear my head. On the left you'll see my laundry-I was drying sheets. Just after I took this, I moved the laundry outside to dry, as it was sunny this morning.



Once I've completed the morning routine and am ready to head out, I begin descending the 68 stairs. Here's the first landing, complete with a bench that can be used in case of a heart attack.









And here's the second landing... to the right is our landlord's apartment.











The third landing; there's a chair lift visible at the bottom of these stairs. It's too slow and noisy to be of much practical use to the able-bodied, but we do use it to move heavy suitcases up to the third floor.










Here's the fourth landing. To the left is the apartment where Houdini the Cat lives between escape attempts.









And here's the fifth landing...











...and the sixth. Not visible to the left is a marker that shows how high the Arno rose when it overflowed its banks in 1966.










Here's the seventh landing...











... and finally, we're at ground level. It's a lot easier going down than up!











Down this hallway, and then out the door to the street.











Here's the outside of our building door, photographed from across the street.










On most days, I turn left and head up toward the river. Here's the scene this morning from about fifty yards away from our apartment.










And here's a close-up of what they were rolling up the road. Hope a bus doesn't hit them.










A right turn at the end of our block points me north. This particular block takes a while to warm up in the mornings.






And finally, I get to the Arno river. Here's a look to the east.







And here's a peek to the west. The Ponte Vecchio is in the background, maybe a quarter-mile away.






Here's a candid shot of some residents of the Arno bank. I've enlarged the highlighted area to give you a close-up look at my little warrior friends.







Turning north, here's a look down our bridge, the ponte alle Grazie.






Here's where the local drivers wait while the pedestrians get into the best position to be run over.






I think these little electric buses are cute; they're tiny and very quiet. I'm also glad they have beepers to warn you when they're coming. It's a little like putting a bell on a cat; it gives the pedestrians a sporting chance.




A delivery van, European-style.








It looked like these guys were racing up the hill.









This piazza has about three clubs that get over-run by college students nearly every night. I'm glad I'm a few blocks away.






Parking is notoriously difficult here in Florence, and when drivers can't find a space, they often create one. This is the only city I've been in where you are not only -NOT- safe in the crosswalks-you're at risk even on the sidewalks.





Here's the Internet Train, where most of my e-mails and blogs get transmitted.








Tour groups are a fact of life in the middle of Florence, and most of the guides carry some sort of tall stick (or sometimes an umbrella) that they hold up for their ducklings to follow. This one seems to be calculating the life expectancy of her group should they cross at that particular corner.




Here's Café Mario, where I get breakfast most mornings.







Here's one of the staff members at Mario's.











And here's the cappuccino guy. He's Mario's grandson.








Finally, we have Mario himself. He's a fixture in the café most mornings.











Postal vehicles are a bit on the smallish side here in Italy.









They've installed these so the American kids can call our mothers when we get homesick. Most are designed with calling cards in mind, it seems-even though they're supposed to take coins, that function is usually broken.









Here's the lady at the orologeria up the street who fixed my watch. She's also quite a talented painter, and watercolors of her cats adorn the shop.










Moving on to the CAPA office, we'll take a peek up the stairs.








Nothing interesting is happening at CAPA this morning (everyone besides me is working), so we'll move on to the piazza around the corner. Visiting American faculty have dubbed this spot the "Drunken Tunnel," in honor of the ne'er-do-wells that usually inhabit it. You can spot them drinking beers here beginning at about 9am.






Here's Standa, our local supermarket. Although many things are more expensive here in Europe, tomatoes are not. This morning, they sold at €1.69 per kg, which comes to a little over four pounds for less than two dollars. This place rocks.




Here's the Laundromat, where you can spend insane amounts of money to run a couple of loads. Needless to say, I've gotten very good at washing and hanging my own at home.









Right up the street, we see a local chef taking a smoke break. It seems smoking has recently been banned inside restaurants within the city limits. Four hours later, we walked by again and found him in almost exactly the same place. Must be one hell of a cigarette.




Back on my (the south) side of the Arno, I managed to catch this bell tower at the stroke of noon. This is about a block and a half away from the apartment.









Just around the corner from the bell tower, we see a typical Florentinian street.










My favorite little deli/convenience store. This is where most our bottles of wine are purchased.






For €10, you can get a GREAT buffet lunch here, complete with wine. Best of all, it's less than a block from home.










Heading back to the apartment, we peek in at a local woodshop, where these two gents are busy restoring antique furniture.






Finally, we go in the building door, climb the 68 steps, and we're home!











So that's a spin around the neighborhood, with more to come at some later date. I'll also recap the Siena/San Gimignano trip shortly. Meanwhile...

Ciao!
-Leanne