Last Night in Florence

Today was my last day in Florence, marking the end of a chapter that has been both long and short. It was, in one word, anticlimactic. That's what happens when you overstay your welcome or don't quit while you're ahead. It's why some television series finales work and why others don't--because sometimes it's better to leave wanting more than to be suspended in some sort of emotional limbo.

My last day of school was boring seeing that all of my friends were gone. I said goodbye to the three teachers who made an impression on me most: Monica, the art history teacher who breathed life into Florence's walls for me and was like a second mother; Patrizio, the ideal grammar teacher, Renaissance man, and eternal pessimist who always ends up talking about Nazis; and Gianni, the ideal conversation teacher, food and music connoisseur, grammar stickler, and general bad-ass with a heart of gold.

It didn't help that I was tired and nursing the occasional headache (but not hungover from last night). I would have wanted to thank them more thoroughly but I just couldn't find adequate enough words. I've never been good at goodbyes anyway.

On my way home from school I stopped by Vodafone in the hopes of crediting my account. After a 15-20 minute wait, I was told that they weren't doing any of those kinds of transactions today since the computers were "locked". Only in Italy!

I whipped up my last home-cooked meal in Florence (spaghetti with zucchini, tomato sauce, and mozzarella) and then proceeded to start packing--since I'm leaving early tomorrow morning and all. I was so surprised by how full my luggage was even though I haven't purchased very much here. And can someone please tell me what was I thinking in bringing so many books from Vancouver? Books that have only been collecting dust on my nightstand?

When I was pleased enough with the extent of my packing I headed out for one last glimpse of Florence from the Piazzale Michelangelo. On the way I stopped by La Carraia 2 (near Santa Croce) for pistachio and cookies gelato. I briskly walked up the steep hill which meant that when I arrived at the top I was pretty much covered in sweat. Instead of stopping there I went even further to Porte Sante, the beautiful cemetery behind the church of San Miniato al Monte. I sat down on a bench with my notebook and just wrote. Within 10 minutes I had 5 big new mosquito bites on my legs!

I then stepped inside San Miniato, sat down on a pew, and just looked around the church to test my memory about the different artworks and then observed tourist behaviour (someone used their flash!). I decided to stick around until the beginning of mass so that I could hear the priests' gregorian chants again. I ended up dozing off quite a few times ("microsleeps" have been occurring pretty often lately) and then stepped out into the now bright and gorgeous sunshine to head down to the Piazzale Michelangelo, where I sat down on the steps and read a few pages of Vasco Pratolino's Le ragazze di San Frediano ("The Girls of San Frediano" [a neighbourhood in Florence]). When I sat down a nearby Italian guy looked at me for a good minute but I could not muster up the courage to meet his gaze, so I looked in every direction but his and then concentrated on my book. He later asked me for the time and I realized I should walk around the piazzale again and then head home to get ready for dinner.

My cenacolo ("Last Supper") was at Il Pizzaiuolo with Posh, her mom, and our new male roommate from Cologne, Germany who moved in last Sunday (let's call him SP). I shared an order of burrata with him and almost forgot to take a picture of it!

Burrata with cherry tomatoes, basil, and extra virgin olive oil. I am ignoring the olives.

It was, as always, heavenly. I even chose to forego my pride and ask if it would be okay with him if I used a spoon to drink the remaining burrata-milk on the plate.

Then I ordered the bomba (bomb) pizza since one of my classmates had highly recommended it. I had forgotten how big it was. It's basically a layer of pizza dough topped with ricotta, salami, tomatoes, mozzarella, mushrooms, and prosciutto cotto and then topped with another layer of pizza dough. I could barely eat half so I put the leftovers in a takeout box. Unfortunately neither Posh nor SP like it, so I don't know if anyone will help me finish it up after I leave.

Bomba -- so aptly named because it is so filling!

After dinner, I dropped off the pizza and Neru at home and then we headed to La Carraia to meet up with V for gelato. I ordered cookies, pistachio, and opera italiana. We then waited for G and his friends from Alto-Adige. Posh and SP went home to prep for a night out and I hung out with the guys in Santo Spirito where they had panini at Gustapanino and then we headed to Mayday Bar for some drinks--I had their "Chilly Apple" which was quite strong and not as yummy as my cocktail at Lochness. Everyone was tired from the night before (they had all gone home around 5-6:00am!) so we were all pretty quiet and just stared into space. By a bit past midnight we all parted ways to go home. 

And that is why I'm looking forward to a change of scenery. It feels like it's time.

Today's word of the day is Firenze. We had a good run, my friend.