Yesterday I decided that it was time to finally act like a tourist. But first, I had to play local by returning to my now-favorite place for breakfast, the Caffé le Logge by the Mercato Nuovo. This time I walked in knowing exactly what to do: I selected my pasta (pastry), went to the cassiere (cashier) to order my cappuccino and pay, and waited for her to hand me my scontrino (receipt), which I took to the barista. He proceeded to make me one of the best cappuccinos I’ve had in my life, seriously. I remember Joanna, my Italian teacher at the San Francisco Italian Athletic Club, telling us about this procedure. It seemed complicated at the time, but I love the fact that it’s still followed. Perhaps not all bars do this, and that’s probably the reason I like this one so much. Oh yes, did I mention that I’ve been having breakfast in a bar each morning? Don’t worry – an Italian bar is very different from an American bar. Sure, you can get a drink or glass of wine here, but most people go to a bar to get pastries, sandwiches, and espresso drinks.
Again, after getting my cappuccino, I sat at a small table where I could observe the people around me, all who seemed to know one another. I noticed that as someone would leave, he or she would say ciao to the other customers. And yesterday, only my second day here, an elderly woman said ciao to me as she left. Maybe I’m starting to fit in after all!
After breakfast I decided to visit the Casa di Dante, which is just two blocks from my apartment. Some say Dante was born in this house, but others are unsure. Regardless, the displays are interesting, and it was fun to walk around a 13th-century building; however, it was much too modernized for me. I would have preferred if they had restored it to resemble the home as it was when Dante lived there.
After learning about Dante and his family, I walked along the Arno to the Museo di Storia della Scienza (the Museum of the History of Science), which is a sort of shrine to Galileo Galilei. What a fascinating place! As the Indigo Girls sing, “Galileo’s head was on the block; the crime was looking up the truth.” It’s hard to believe that a man of such genius was shunned by so many.
The museum takes up two floors of an historic building and consists of room after room, each dedicated to some area of science or type of scientific instrument: telescopes; barometers and thermometers; nautical instruments, microscopes; maps and globes; motion, weight, velocity, and acceleration; surgery, pharmacy, chemistry; and so on. Although I’m far from scientific, I’ve always been intrigued by instruments and maps. The items on display at this museum are practical, to be sure, but they are also amazingly beautiful. Some displays were a bit lurid, including one of Galileo’s fingers, which was cut off after his death, proudly displayed in a glass orb sitting on a marble base. It’s quite well-preserved actually! And in the surgery room were plaster models of the complete pregnancy and birth process, created I believe in the 18th century, when this process was still largely a mystery. I know that this was a major step in science, but the models were a bit creepy! Upon leaving the museum, I was delighted to discover a special collection on the ground floor of 18-century bicycles. These were truly works of art, graceful and beautiful but none too comfortable. Most were made completely of metal (including the seat!), and some incorporated wood, primarily for the wheels. It wasn’t until the late 18th century that someone thought to put leather on the seat, and even that looked mighty uncomfortable. In fact, these early bikes were often called “boneshakers.” One look at them and you can see why!
Next it was time for lunch; I went to a café call Moyo by Santa Croce, which offers free wireless access. I managed to check my e-mail and get one blog item posted before my computer battery went dead. Upon returning home, I decided to recharge my battery using the adapter I brought with me. This turned into an adventure! I plugged the computer in and got back to work on some documents. After a while I sensed a burning electrical smell, followed by a small explosion. And then all the power went out! I had no idea what to do. I tried calling my landlord, but someone answered his phone who couldn’t speak English, making me wonder if I even had the right number, Then I tried looking up electricians in the phone book, after frantically looking up the words for electrician and fuse (elettricista and fusibile). Thankfully, before I got through to one, Signor Sposato, my landlord, called back and walked me through exactly what to do. The good news is that this apartment has a safety device that switches things off if I overload a socket, which I must have done with the adapter. At least there was no blown fuse to fix! Now I know this is all for real – I couldn’t just call down to the front desk to get things taken care of!
All is well now, although I have no idea how I’m going to recharge my battery from now on. But as I sit typing this, a man is playing an accordion at the end of my street, sweet notes drifting up through my window. Somehow this makes everything all right.
Again, after getting my cappuccino, I sat at a small table where I could observe the people around me, all who seemed to know one another. I noticed that as someone would leave, he or she would say ciao to the other customers. And yesterday, only my second day here, an elderly woman said ciao to me as she left. Maybe I’m starting to fit in after all!
After breakfast I decided to visit the Casa di Dante, which is just two blocks from my apartment. Some say Dante was born in this house, but others are unsure. Regardless, the displays are interesting, and it was fun to walk around a 13th-century building; however, it was much too modernized for me. I would have preferred if they had restored it to resemble the home as it was when Dante lived there.After learning about Dante and his family, I walked along the Arno to the Museo di Storia della Scienza (the Museum of the History of Science), which is a sort of shrine to Galileo Galilei. What a fascinating place! As the Indigo Girls sing, “Galileo’s head was on the block; the crime was looking up the truth.” It’s hard to believe that a man of such genius was shunned by so many.
The museum takes up two floors of an historic building and consists of room after room, each dedicated to some area of science or type of scientific instrument: telescopes; barometers and thermometers; nautical instruments, microscopes; maps and globes; motion, weight, velocity, and acceleration; surgery, pharmacy, chemistry; and so on. Although I’m far from scientific, I’ve always been intrigued by instruments and maps. The items on display at this museum are practical, to be sure, but they are also amazingly beautiful. Some displays were a bit lurid, including one of Galileo’s fingers, which was cut off after his death, proudly displayed in a glass orb sitting on a marble base. It’s quite well-preserved actually! And in the surgery room were plaster models of the complete pregnancy and birth process, created I believe in the 18th century, when this process was still largely a mystery. I know that this was a major step in science, but the models were a bit creepy! Upon leaving the museum, I was delighted to discover a special collection on the ground floor of 18-century bicycles. These were truly works of art, graceful and beautiful but none too comfortable. Most were made completely of metal (including the seat!), and some incorporated wood, primarily for the wheels. It wasn’t until the late 18th century that someone thought to put leather on the seat, and even that looked mighty uncomfortable. In fact, these early bikes were often called “boneshakers.” One look at them and you can see why!Next it was time for lunch; I went to a café call Moyo by Santa Croce, which offers free wireless access. I managed to check my e-mail and get one blog item posted before my computer battery went dead. Upon returning home, I decided to recharge my battery using the adapter I brought with me. This turned into an adventure! I plugged the computer in and got back to work on some documents. After a while I sensed a burning electrical smell, followed by a small explosion. And then all the power went out! I had no idea what to do. I tried calling my landlord, but someone answered his phone who couldn’t speak English, making me wonder if I even had the right number, Then I tried looking up electricians in the phone book, after frantically looking up the words for electrician and fuse (elettricista and fusibile). Thankfully, before I got through to one, Signor Sposato, my landlord, called back and walked me through exactly what to do. The good news is that this apartment has a safety device that switches things off if I overload a socket, which I must have done with the adapter. At least there was no blown fuse to fix! Now I know this is all for real – I couldn’t just call down to the front desk to get things taken care of!
All is well now, although I have no idea how I’m going to recharge my battery from now on. But as I sit typing this, a man is playing an accordion at the end of my street, sweet notes drifting up through my window. Somehow this makes everything all right.
2 comments:
I'm cracking up at my mental picture of your computer blowing up! I'm reall enjoying reading your daily stories.
Annette, wait until you read about my experience at the movie theatre! This is something that would happen to you!
Love, Carolyn
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