Day 7: I Musei de Firenze (The Museums of Florence)

It turns out that my opportunity cost of time is quite high. (For the unenlightened, non-economists out there, opportunity cost is the value of the activity that you would be doing if you weren't doing what you actually are. In other words, its the value of the next best alternative.)

I meandered over to the Uffizi Gallery this morning at about 8:30am thinking I'd beat some of the traffic. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

After waiting in that hellish line at St. Peter's in Rome and numerous nights of bad sleep, the value I place on comfort and time (because I wear out fast, being sick) far exceeds the 11 Euros I would save by paying the normal entry fee.

How did I manage to do that, you ask? I bought a ticket for about double the price from some girls touting the museum's association. I skipped the 2-hour line and went straight in.

I can't begin to describe my experience once inside. It was sensory overload. I, with most people, congregated to the big works of art. You know - Boticelli's Birth of Venus and the like. The famous works that they show us in our undergraduate art history classes.

I waded through room after room of altarpieces. It became drudgery after the Vatican Museum in Rome. Its not that I don't recognize the painstaking, minute, and intricate workmanship. I just can't look at them anymore. (This is the queue for someone who loves altarpieces to lash out at me.)

I wish I wasn't so mentally drained from all the touring I've done because I went to the House of Dante Museum next and it was phenomenal. In addition to information about Dante's works and life, the included detailed political and cultural background information, painting an exceptional and holistic picture of the time in which the great writer and scholar lived. I sympathize with Dante - both the man and the pilgrim in the Commedia. This was written on one of the information boards:

"...his love took on a different significance, far away from earthly reality, stimulating him to profound human and moral introspection. Beatrice's death opened a deep wound in Dante's heart and soul. His regret at not having been able to love this perfect creature properly and at having let himself be led to other futile loves makes the poet fall into a profound crisis".

Then I went to my hotel room and took a siesta. (I earned it.)

By 4:30pm I was at the Galleria dell'Academia. Oh? You don't know where/what that is? That, my friend, is where the David is. You know the one - Michelangelo's giant, 17-foot tall, immaculate statue. That David. I'm beginning to run low on brain juice again now, so the reader will have to excuse me if I don't elaborate any further. Suffice it to say for now that it rocked (pun!).

I tried to get to some famous gardens but they were closing. Then I got lost, got dinner, my train ticket for Venice for tomorrow, and patted myself on the back. Self, great day.

I took a photo or two as well along the way.