We arrived in Florence on day two of our travels. The taxi driver took us to Hotel Morandi Alla Crocetta. Hotel Morandi is a reasonably priced and wonderful hotel down a narrow street in walking distance to just about every historic site in Florence. (Via Laura, 50, Florence, Tel: +39 055 234 4747)
By American standards, the street the hotel sits on looks dodgy with graffiti covering the buildings. The hotel sign is small and easy to miss. There was a pile of books along the sidewalk before the hotel door for students taking classes at the law school in the neighboring building.
People hurriedly walked back and forth on the narrow uneven cobblestone streets. As if the street wasn’t narrow enough, there were many bikes parked uniformly on one side of the street along with as many small cars as could be parked along the street. The sense of unease that the graffiti caused at first was replaced by calm by the movement of life on the street.
We had to climb two flights of stairs to enter the hotel, which was fine for Bronwyn and me, but didn’t please my Mom. Regardless, she walked them. Lorenzo, a kind young man who was extremely helpful, greeted us at the door. He is studying in Florence to be a medical doctor, leaning towards Cardiology. He checked us in, and there were no surprises as far as cost was concerned.
I booked the room weeks ago, and the hotel had already kindly corresponded with me via e-mail to confirm our stay. In every town we stayed in, there was a city tax per person, per day. It’s not high, but we had to pay that in cash. I imagine if someone was not ready for that, it might be a little uncomfortable at first, especially if that person didn’t have cash.
Lorenzo carried our luggage to our room, which was down the hall. It was a beautiful room full of charm. The frescos on the wall were from the 1600’s, which we found amazing. The oldest thing I have on my wall at home is a crayon mark or two from when my daughter Arden was a toddler, and that work of art is 11 years old. I nearly hyperventilated thinking about sleeping surrounded by beautiful art hundreds of years old.
We also had a bust of Caesar. We were told it wasn’t that old. To us, not that old means two years. To Italians, it probably means 200 years. The bust of Caesar I could have done without because it overlooked where I slept and was a little spooky for me. We also had a 17th Century painting of Sister Domenica of Paradise. That was above my mother and Bronwyn’s beds. Lucky them! I had scary Caesar, and they get Sister Domenica of Paradise.
So, I Googled the Sister, and read the hotel brochure.
You know what?
Sister Domenica of Paradise was an amazing woman. She began having visions of Jesus and Mother Mary when she was 10 living on a nearby farm with her family in the 1400’s. As she grew-up, she fed the poor from her own plate, and had a generous heart that exceeded those around her. Her visions included her guardian angels, and she would share her visions with people in her community.
With the help of the Medici family, she purchased the land that our small hotel is on, and she created a convent. To help fund the convent, she taught the nuns to weave gold and silver into cloth. It seems her only personal request of the Holy Spirit was that she not suffer in death.
She caught a fever that lasted for 15 days and then died peacefully at age 80. After she died, her body remained unchanged, as in no decomposition! I even read that her body would move about in the coffin when people would check her years upon years after she died, and she had stigmata on her hands and feet, with one of her hands turning white.
I tried to find out where her final resting place is, but I was unable to come up with that information, but give me time!
I am not sure if Sister Domenica of Paradise would be OK with the modern-day hotel on the premises of her convent, but Bronwyn, my Mom, and I loved it. Throughout our stay at the hotel, the kind and caring hotel staff made certain our stay was the best it could be.
We unpacked and left Mom to hang out in the room with Sister Domenica’s painting and walked to the grocery store for supplies. I love going to grocery stores in foreign countries and buying something that I have no idea if it will be good or not. I always look for something well stocked on the shelf and cheaply priced. We picked up a chocolate cake log (which was fantastic), a $4E bottle of Chianti (also fantastic), some yogurt, cheese crackers and bottles of water. People don’t drink from the faucets in Florence, so we decided not to as well.
We got back to the hotel and then dressed for dinner. Dinner was about four blocks away. The evening was gorgeous, 75 degrees F with a light breeze.
There was always someone busily walking by us as we strolled down the street catching the Duomo peeking through the street intersections now and then.
The Florence Duomo, or The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, towers over everything in the city.
It is spectacular.
We arrived at Trattoria Natalino on Borgo degli Albizi, 17 and sat viewing the street. The food was great there. It was reasonably priced, great service, great selection on the menu. We nearly licked our plates. I had the Ravioli in Truffle Sauce with Chianti.
My Mom had spaghetti with marinara sauce. For nearly every meal, my mother had spaghetti with marinara sauce. I can’t remember what Bronwyn had because I was too enamored with my meal. My Mom’s was easy to remember because that is all she ate. We walked back in the cool breeze of the evening, up the two flights of stairs to sleep in our room that was once part of the convent’s chapel created by a very fascinating person.
We had to get a good night’s rest because we had 8:30 am tickets to see Michaelangelo’s David at the Accademia di Belle Arti di Firenze, or the Academy of Fine Arts of Florence, and then we were planning to tour the Duomo. I wasn’t sure how my 17 year-old daughter was going to react to the 17-foot tall naked David, but I was about to find out…
Ciao
