It started as a tease. “Let’s go to Florence for lunch tomorrow?” I asked a couple of fun friends as we sat around a cafe in Varese, Lombardia.
“What? Just for lunch? That’s a long way to go for lunch,” they replied. Both of them exchanging expressions that turned from dismissal and skepticism into temptation.
“Yeah. Why not? Let’s do it just because we can and it seems like an impossible dream come true,” I persisted.
They were onboard. Although, it was several months later that our schedules actually permitted such an indulgent trip.
I typically like to approach everything a la whimsical; I don’t always plan ahead. The thought of getting into Milano Centrale where one can catch a train to anywhere was plan enough to start. But other people are more sensible and my comrades planned the day out beat by beat.
- Take car to the Lampugnano Parking Lot.
- Catch the Red Metro line, change to Yellow or Green line to Centrale.
- Traverse Centrale from the metro to the platforms and gracefully board the high-speed train, enjoy the 1.5 hour trip. Alight in Florence.
- Meander around the sites for a couple of hours.
- Have lunch at the Yellow Bar.
- Check out the leather markets.
- Have afternoon macchiato al fresco.
- Do a mirror journey home.
Five hours in Florence and we’d be home by 9pm. Sounded sound.
The night before, there were a flurry of emails regarding the possible risk of traffic on the A8 in the morning. I wanted to take an early train from our neck of the woods to Milano, to avoid the risk but it would have meant getting on the road before 7am and missing getting kids organised for schools, as we grown-ups were playing hooky for the occasion. In the end, the consensus was that we had forty minutes of contingency time on what it would normally take. Therefore, even if the traffic was bad, we’d be okay.
On the morning of the trip, there was a ten minute delay, which didn’t set things off well. The Fog also decided it wanted to play a starring role in the day’s adventure. The traffic was even thicker than usual, visibility was despicable, and there was a terrible accident that squeezed the motorway down to one lane for a good bit of the journey. Ever hopeful, we motored on, and eventually pulled into Lampugnano and found a decent parking spot. The Metro picked us up without a long wait but changing lines was like running an obstacle course against the tide of commuters trying to get to various platforms. We made it on the Yellow line, breathlessly, and nervously kept checking our watches wondering if we were going to make our 10:20am train. One of my friends was having some problems with her knees. Since we weren’t sure which platform the train was departing up at the station, we agreed I would run ahead (it’s about ten minutes to get up from the underground to the station, which involves a lot of escalators and crowds to weave through.) I bolted off and discovered the platform and was heading back down to the place that we were meant to meet when I came across one of my two friends. Somehow, she had lost the third member of our party. What followed was a series of unfortunate events, missed phone calls and fast footwork, which was all a little funny after the fact but took a few cappuccino and pastries to shake off. We made the train, scurried on board, sat down, red-faced and out of breath. By the time we got our breath back, we were arriving in Florence.
A note on the high-speed train: Amazing. My ears popped as we went through the tunnel outside of Bologne. The seats are really comfortable and the service was great.
The fog hogged the spotlight in Florence too. We set about following my friend who had gained a lot of experience bringing visiting family members here and had a nice route planned out. We took in the Duomo and people watched. We said “No thank you” to countless selfie-stick venders, and took pictures until it was time for pranzo.
The Yellow Bar is a restaurant that makes its own pasta fresh and insists that, if it’s your first visit, you come and meet the pasta chef and say hello and watch the process for a while. The staff seemed extremely proud of this as it’s not something you get in most Italian restaurants. The meal was sublime! Since we were all having the same thing, it was delivered in one big bowl.
After lunch we went in search of leather goods – at the many stalls filled with a wide variety of colours and designs. It was the same satisfying feast for the eyes as the pasta at the Yellow Bar had been for the soul. I ended up buying two gorgeous bags. The prices were so reasonable, I felt it was wrong to haggle.
Later, we checked out some of Medici’s walkways and had our afternoon rest at a lovely cafe before making our way to the train station. The journey home was far less dramatic.
Whimspherical 