Things Are Different Here

It has now been officially a week (just over, I guess) since I arrived here in Florence. I am glad to have that first week under my belt because I am now feeling slightly more comfortable with how things work here. Or maybe I’m just more comfortable with the feeling of being uncomfortable? I am guessing it’s a little of both.

I made a nice new friend out of the MeetUp group from Thursday, she is the West Coast version of me. Melissa is from LA and is a freelance writer/editor who came here for much the same reason as me: because she could. It has been great having a fellow American to bumble around with, somehow you feel better not knowing anything when you’re with another person who also doesn’t know anything. But then you look more like a tourist so it’s a bit of a catch-22. She is even doing a blog but thus far I have resisted asking her for the URL, I am afraid of catching the dreaded “blog envy” that is certain to follow given that she is a writer by profession.

At any rate, we spent some time over the weekend getting out and about. On Saturday we went out and had some wine at an “enoteca” or wine bar and dinner at a great restaurant where we were invited to attend their 7^th anniversary party this coming Sunday. I’m not exactly sure why we were invited but I’ll chalk it up to our stunning American beauty since we certainly didn’t have a lot to say to our waitress. On Sunday we walked around the Boboli Gardens for a while (which are less garden-like than the name suggests) and then, when skies threatened, went into the Pitti Palace to a couple of the exhibits that our Garden ticket allowed us to enter

One of the things that I noticed upon arrival in Italy is how much more relaxed the Italians seem to be about almost everything. For example, after I got off the plane with my 2 carry-ons, I sailed through the passport check in about 2 seconds. I am not even sure he really looked at my passport when he stamped it. Then I kept looking for the typical customs scene: long lines of aggravated-looking people who are trying not to look aggravated as customs officials violate their luggage.

Unable to locate such a scene, I followed the signs for those with nothing to declare through a door which landed me right out in the main arrivals area where dozens of people eagerly awaited their loved ones. That was it, no one rifled through my bag looking for all the food and plant life I may have been smuggling in… nothing. I was on my way.

So with this experience fresh in my mind, I should not have been particularly surprised by the “security” at the Pitti Palace exhibits. To be fair, there are a number of signs warning of the cameras that are watching, but other than that… not so much on the security. Exhibits are spread across numerous rooms, each of which has someone stationed in it but more often than not, this is someone who looks like a teenager sitting in a chair reading a book wearing jeans. Or it might be a middle-aged woman who has left her post to go have a chat with the middle-aged woman in the next room, both of whom are also wearing jeans and seem to have no means of stopping you from doing just about anything.

The exhibits themselves are equally lackadaisical, some things have signs and some don’t. In one room there was a line of 6 or 8 very old-looking chairs sitting unceremoniously behind one of the exhibits. They did have a rope across the seat so you knew not to sit in them but they were seemingly just stuck there, as though there was nowhere else to put them in this 100+ room palace. I couldn’t help but think about American museums where everything is roped off and you are forced to stand at least 5 feet away from even the walls in case you get any unscrupulous ideas. Not in the Pitti Palace, or at least not in these exhibits.

My guess is that security might be a bit tighter at the Uffizi but since I haven’t been yet, I’m not sure. I will be sure to report back.