Again, I experienced a surreal feeling. Looking at one of the most famous statutes in the World, having barely recovered from the emotions of meeting Him!
I wondered whether David was the (perceived) ideal male form. Do contemporary women think the same as Michelangelo those centuries ago? Is that what attracts women these days? My own insecurities started to rise; how can I possibly measure up? I distracted myself from these thoughts.
I begged my pardon with Keiko, promised (unconvincingly) to meet at her hostel tomorrow morning and headed back to the Town Square.
My plan was to walk to a park high on a hill overlooking the city. So, I passed through the now-deserted square towards the famous Ponte Vecchio to cross the river. I ran into a young US couple that I briefly spoke to in Sorrento a few days ago. Excitedly talked about my day (so far). They shared their stories (without me listening closely!) and headed into foreign territory.
By the time I reached the gates to the park, they were closed. The plan was to sit and watch the sunset over the city. It was now nearly dark and without knowing the time, it must be around 9pm. I correctly guessed that it closes at dusk!
Well what to do now? It was a quiet part of Florence and I was starting to feel weak from hunger, tiredness and probably dehydration. This was not unusual. I often found myself so engrossed and taken away from the sights and experiences, I forget to eat and drink, even sometimes rest and breathe deeply!
I walked down the hill and, concerned with my mental and physical state, decided I’d try some local places. I looked for signs saying “ristorante or cafeteria, lights in windows and the sound of voices and hopefully laughter. I’d found in my 3 weeks so far, that it can lead to finding an enjoyable eating place!
I walked into one and then another in one street, only to be told “we are closing soon” or “we are full”. There were no more in that street. I was starting to not only feel weak, but also unwelcome. Each place had free tables; perhaps it was my backpacking clothes, my lack of Italian or that I was alone…
I again pushed these negative thoughts away and walked on.
Then around the corner, I saw light coming through windows, walked through the doorway and steeled myself with the same question, “hai spazio per uno”?
‘Yes’ (or si) was the response from the kind-faced, middle aged male maître de. He pointed to a shared table and, from what I could gather, said “finished by 10”!
So, I sat exhausted and relieved. There was a middle-aged (Italian) couple to my right and two similarly aged women on the other end of the table.
I felt exposed on the corner of the table. Waiters and customers leaving all had to squeeze past me. After a few uncomfortable minutes, one of the ladies opposite smiled, sensing my discomfort. The young male waiter dropped a menu in front of me, and mumbled “pronto”. I immediately went to the Pizza page and saw Margherita and, from my experience of the relatively thin local pizzas, decided on a large (grande).
The waiter was back in a matter of seconds and I ordered in English. My brain was not up to the translation and my tongue was too tired to wrap around the pronunciation! He grumbled something under his breath, threw his head back, spun around with a roll of his eyes.
By now, I was feeling light-headed, like on my first night in Rome when I got lost in the renowned eating area, Trastevere. And made the mistake of having a Scotch on an empty stomach and jet-lagged. I noticed a carafe of water in the middle of the table and reached out, poured into a glass and drunk it all.
Feeling more relaxed (with water in me and food on the way), I smiled to the lady opposite (and guessing they were English), asked her where she was from. “England” was her answer. Sisters travelling together. Just arrived today and planned to go to the Uffizi tomorrow. I mentioned how I’d booked a time to enter, to avoid the queues. I cannot help myself – always looking to provide guidance from my experiences, without being asked and sometimes not welcome!
They nodded, and smiled gently, which I assume meant they were aware of the arrangement.
The other then asked about my day, ‘what did I like about the Uffizi’. I quickly turned the conversation excitedly to Him and the Civic Reception. They appeared genuinely interested, so I then explained how it came about, the series of events and coincidences!
I noticed that the couple next to me had turned towards me and were listening in. When there was a pause in my frantic telling of the story, the man spoke in very good English (with a strong Italian accent). He said, “how exciting, we were also at the Reception”. He then introduced himself, Walter, and his wife, Gabriella, who smiled broadly and said, “please to meet”.
Well, the night became a night to remember. Walter explained that Gabriella was a Christian meditator and a great fan of Him and his teachings. They’d made a detour, from their home in Milan, to their country house near Urbino, in the East, especially to be there to see him and attend workshops.
Little was I to know that we’d become close friends, their (only) daughter would stay at my place in Melbourne and I’d be invited to her wedding in Rimini 6 years later……
Travels 