A Slow Transition.

Gradually I am feeling myself grow more accustomed to life here. Sunday morning I woke up late (9 a.m., but to my Signora I am the “dormita” the sleeper of the house) and sat in the kitchen drinking my coffee and eating my toast while my Signora cut up apples for a dessert she was making.

Saturday was a long day, I planned a trip to San Gimignano after being reminded of the town my mom loved so much by my History of Florence professor last week. Four friends and I ended up taking the long, winding bus ride there. San Gimignano is significant because it is a medieval village that still has 17 of its 42 towers intact. Back in the day when Italy was constantly at war with itself people built towers to protect themselves and to throw boiling oil out of at their enemies. Today they make for lovely places to see panoramic vistas of the Tuscan countryside.

San Gimignano is beautiful because of both the countryside and the village itself. The buildings have been maintained beautifully and it still retains the quiet mood of a little village while also being a popular tourist destination. We had a fabulous lunch, and gelato that rivals that of “Vivoli,” the best gelateria in Florence. Then we went to the Museo di Civico where tons of religious art, beautiful frescoes and the “Sala di Dante,” a room where Dante once mediated a village war, are all housed. The museum is also home to the only tower in San Gimignano that you are allowed to go up. Although to reach the top we had to climb hundreds of stairs, the view was worth it. We stayed at the top of the tower for almost an hour just taking in one of the most beautiful panoramas I’ve ever seen. After descending I went on a hunt for a leather bag maker where my mom had bought me a purse a few years before. After giving up hope a few hours later we finally stumbled upon it and I pulled my purse out showing the man at the shop (who makes all the bags with his son) and told him my mom had bought it from him for me two years ago. He smiled at me and asked “Buona?” ‘Is it good?’ And I told him I loved it. After falling in love with several other of his bags I finally settled on one that I could carry my books and computer in to and from school. He gave me a small discount and after asking if I was English or American he took my hands in his and said “Saluta tua madre per me.” ‘Say hi to your mother from me.’ I left the shop beaming after making my first big Italian purchase.

Needless to say I went to bed exhausted that night and Sunday morning took the day at my pace, deciding to spend some time in my own city. I took advantage of my museum pass paid for by my school and went to the Boboli Gardens, sort of the Florentine Central Park, except that it was all once owned by the Medicis and their sense of grandeur is felt in every square centimeter of the place. I read my Italian novel that I am stumbling through, wrote in my journal, and took pictures of only a few of the incredible statues and vistas the garden is home to. We are still experiencing unseasonably warm weather here, and I feel like my summer vacation has been extended indefinitely, and that’s not such a bad feeling.