Florence con mia mama

I'm not sure what I expected from Florence, but I can't say I was disappointed.
First of all, I was treated to a Tuscan farmhouse with my mother. Imagine, if you can, armies of crickets, fields of olive trees, 40 to 45 degree weather, a pool, and Florence in the distance. I thought I was in paradise.
Sure, a few things went wrong right off the bat. After I met my mother at the Santa Maria di Novella train station, we took the city bus, and got lost.
Getting lost in Florence is not fun. Asking people for directions is... difficult. Very friendly, Florentines seem more than willing to help but many seem to have conflicting ideas of how the city is structured. We followed an elderly man's instructions and found ourselves in a tiny, dirty alley with washing hanging from the windows. Not our final destination.
After many complications, we arrived at the Tuscan farmhouse. Our apartment, called "Melograni" (pomegranate in English) was perfect. Dark wood highlights, antique furniture, white stucco walls, and a view of Florence.
The next day, we marched down to the bus stop (a good forty minutes walk) and headed for Florence.
This city, originally designed by Florentine artists to be perfect in shape and size, is confusing. Although the streets or Vias run parallel to one another in seemingly perfect logical order, the number of the houses do not. For example, you can easily find house number 43 next to house number 10. Is there any logic to this? I don't think so.
Art abounds in Florence. I saw Michelangelo's David (perfect but HUGE compared to what I had in mind), Giotto di Bondone's Madonna and Child (Giotto being a personal favourite artist of mine) and countless churches. My favourite? Santa Croce. This church, once you enter it, offers the most wonderful sense of space. Instead of being filled with Rococo features (not my thing), it is white and calm. On the ends are gigantic marble statues standing on tombs of famous artists, composers, writers, and so forth. I liked Dante's. Tiny chapels on the far ends are decorated by breath-taking frescoes. I loved every part of it.
I won't lie: Florence is chaotic, busy, dirty, noisy, and beautiful. I saw beggars praying with their faces literally placed onto the hot asphalt streets. I saw women buying 300 Euro dresses by Gucci. I saw elderly men zipping by on their Vespas.
Staying for six days in Florence provided a great way of seeing every possible part of it, or at least to my satisfaction. The Uffizi Palace, comparable to the Louvre, made me dizzy. The Vecchio Palace's Hunting Gallery room, presenting the most horrific battle scenes anyone can imagine, gave me nightmares. The proud owner of a delicatessen which has been in his family business since 1512 made me smile.
So, in short, Florence is a gem of artistic splendour, of societal chaos, an artist's labour of love. No wonder Florentines are proud of their city. Che bella, si!
This travel blog comes to an end, dear friends. Thank you for reading, for any comments, and for sharing my experiences. This hectic, frightening and wonderful trip has made me grow in ways I never thought I would. Let's hope more adventures are coming.