Dante @ MindSay 
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inferno
A look into Dante's journey
Prelude:
I had an odd dream last night, I was typing on AIM (I think to hermie) - and at one point a guy called Reece (who I read about yesterday) showed up in there. At one point, I was trying to talk (I don't know who to, or what I was saying entirely) but I just was not able to type anything comprehensable - I kept pressing wrong keys nomatter how I tried, I was also aware that I couldn't make proper words speaking either. At one point I was able to make a question mark and then get accross 'huh?', which then I got a refrence to dante from 'Reece' - I had heard of 'Dante's inferno' before but in my dream I had no idea what/who dante was, it just sounded familiar. This was the last dream before I woke, so I looked him up in wikipedia.
My perspective:
I don't know whether it's true, but it's still interesting to look at, and his journey an interesting analogy. When I read the bit about 'poetic justice' I realised that me not being able to communicate was sort of poetic justice for me - because it's the main thing I do on the internet, but I also realised it was fairly light, not exactly scary, just frustrating. In my dream I kept trying, I don't know whether I would've given up had it kept going, that I wondered - depends whether it occured to me, in dreams it doesn't always.
What struck me about his supposed journey through levels of hell, through purgatory and into heaven, is that it seemed like a journey everyone takes - that everyone starts at the first and works their way through when each level has done it's job - and that will be to different extents for each person, depending on just how much there was to fix about them. It struck me as by and large a one way thing - it actually said in the article that people only get better and purer - they can go back to previous levels, but deep down they won't change for the worse as people (although what badness is within us may be drawn out for show, but we shouldn't fear that because we need to be purified of it anyway)
Although abandoning hope was part of the hell, and people could exist in one realm forever if they didn't change, I got the impression they were only there to learn their lesson, and certainly the article said about people moving realms - Dante and Virgil, as well as "two in heaven and one (Cato of Utica) in Purgatory"
It's not unusual to come across people hoping for a lighter version of hell if they cannot get heaven, so would , given the choice, choose to stick in limbo or the early levels of inferno, but the journey takes Dante deeper in and repents each 'sin' one by one until he reaches god at the end - indicating basically, you have to go through it to purge yourself in order to get to heaven. Avoiding progressing further down or staying in limbo because you don't want to go into a harsher realm slows down your reaching of the eventual destination of heaven - it's like having to go through a burning coridor in order to get out of a burning house. Much as I wish there was an easier way (like jumping through a window), I cannot think of one that applies to life that would genuinely change people deep down without having to suffer.
I think some things about the story would be wrong - like how someone who lived as a pagan cannot progress even if they repent - that they just vanish - to me there doesn't seem any point in purging somoene if it's not to any end. Perhaps Virgo (dante's first guide, a pagan) - when he disappeared he did go to a more heavenly realm but one notn visible to Dante because Dante may have had beliefs that prevented him being able to see a good end for pagans - I think the whole experience for him was moulded round him, for him, and so reflects his views on famous people quite often, and may look down on philosophers who Dante may not have liked (like Epicurus).
Assuming Dante based his poem on a dream or NDE experience, then because I think this may well be a personalised thing, I think the different realms of heaven/hell may be different for each person - in how we percieve them, how many levels there are, and what punishment/reward works. When Dante reached heaven, he admitted also that what he saw was only what his human eyes alloed him to see, in other words, he saw it as his perspective - for him maybe that was angels on clouds or the usual stereotype of heaven (I'm not sure) - but it could be very different for people with different beliefs, because their expectations seem to shape their experience - after all heaven is meant to be without challenge - so you may well see what you want to see.
Another thing that struck me was that Inferno and Pergatory were really just different takes on the same thing, albeit with pergatory you could see the happy ending whereas inferno got deeper. I say they're the same because they're both described as realms where people learn + get punished for 'sin' as part of a purification, the main difference seems to be how they are percieved - Pergatory is regarded as a nicer place with 'angels' guarding parts of it rather than the 'demons' of inferno - but in some ways really they're the same thing - guardians to areas where people are tortured to repent, but that maybe they approach things differently.
But this did seem like it's a path everybody takes, there's no avoiding it, we go through hell in order to get to heaven, if it's true, it makes some sense in terms of how people learn, I'd also say feel free to make the mistakes that bring out any bad side that is there so that it can be purged
One thing that bothered me though was how it all seemed to be 'by the whip' - punishment after punishment after punishement, even after a life of suffering, although suffering is the only way I can see for some things, but I try to use words where words will reach so that suffering won't be necessary to make people realise. By the time people get to heaven they must think "what now?". I think it's better to pass through all this quickly if possible, but to spend as much time as you think you need under honour - and if you don't want to, I'm sure people will make you (as was another difference between pergatory and inferno - inferno happened regardless of your will once you were in, people in purgatory sounded like they could take breaks).
Above all though, I don't understand why 'sin' or the bad side of human nature existed in the first place - why should there be anything there to purge? I don't buy the idea that sin was created by adam/eve's temptation to eat an apple - because that very temptation existed before they made their decision, so they were inherently vulnerable to something that existed from the start. In addition, their decision shouldn't have had any bearing on anyone else, it may symbolise their disobedience, but it's only theirs, it's nothing to do with us - and how could curiousity possibly be the cause of much darker, more sinister intentions of humanity, it doesn't make sense - I reckon something was there before, I don't know how or why, but something happened. I also don't buy the story that sin may be to do with satan + others rebelling out of pride, but still, in order for that to have happened, the pride must've existed beforehand, it's not the result of our deeds or our deeds itself, it's like a kind of muck we all start with, admittidly it may pressure us to develop + become strong, but I would very much like to know why it's necessary, so far I've only observed that it can work. I wish I could find another way...
I had an odd dream last night, I was typing on AIM (I think to hermie) - and at one point a guy called Reece (who I read about yesterday) showed up in there. At one point, I was trying to talk (I don't know who to, or what I was saying entirely) but I just was not able to type anything comprehensable - I kept pressing wrong keys nomatter how I tried, I was also aware that I couldn't make proper words speaking either. At one point I was able to make a question mark and then get accross 'huh?', which then I got a refrence to dante from 'Reece' - I had heard of 'Dante's inferno' before but in my dream I had no idea what/who dante was, it just sounded familiar. This was the last dream before I woke, so I looked him up in wikipedia.
My perspective:
I don't know whether it's true, but it's still interesting to look at, and his journey an interesting analogy. When I read the bit about 'poetic justice' I realised that me not being able to communicate was sort of poetic justice for me - because it's the main thing I do on the internet, but I also realised it was fairly light, not exactly scary, just frustrating. In my dream I kept trying, I don't know whether I would've given up had it kept going, that I wondered - depends whether it occured to me, in dreams it doesn't always.
What struck me about his supposed journey through levels of hell, through purgatory and into heaven, is that it seemed like a journey everyone takes - that everyone starts at the first and works their way through when each level has done it's job - and that will be to different extents for each person, depending on just how much there was to fix about them. It struck me as by and large a one way thing - it actually said in the article that people only get better and purer - they can go back to previous levels, but deep down they won't change for the worse as people (although what badness is within us may be drawn out for show, but we shouldn't fear that because we need to be purified of it anyway)
Although abandoning hope was part of the hell, and people could exist in one realm forever if they didn't change, I got the impression they were only there to learn their lesson, and certainly the article said about people moving realms - Dante and Virgil, as well as "two in heaven and one (Cato of Utica) in Purgatory"
It's not unusual to come across people hoping for a lighter version of hell if they cannot get heaven, so would , given the choice, choose to stick in limbo or the early levels of inferno, but the journey takes Dante deeper in and repents each 'sin' one by one until he reaches god at the end - indicating basically, you have to go through it to purge yourself in order to get to heaven. Avoiding progressing further down or staying in limbo because you don't want to go into a harsher realm slows down your reaching of the eventual destination of heaven - it's like having to go through a burning coridor in order to get out of a burning house. Much as I wish there was an easier way (like jumping through a window), I cannot think of one that applies to life that would genuinely change people deep down without having to suffer.
I think some things about the story would be wrong - like how someone who lived as a pagan cannot progress even if they repent - that they just vanish - to me there doesn't seem any point in purging somoene if it's not to any end. Perhaps Virgo (dante's first guide, a pagan) - when he disappeared he did go to a more heavenly realm but one notn visible to Dante because Dante may have had beliefs that prevented him being able to see a good end for pagans - I think the whole experience for him was moulded round him, for him, and so reflects his views on famous people quite often, and may look down on philosophers who Dante may not have liked (like Epicurus).
Assuming Dante based his poem on a dream or NDE experience, then because I think this may well be a personalised thing, I think the different realms of heaven/hell may be different for each person - in how we percieve them, how many levels there are, and what punishment/reward works. When Dante reached heaven, he admitted also that what he saw was only what his human eyes alloed him to see, in other words, he saw it as his perspective - for him maybe that was angels on clouds or the usual stereotype of heaven (I'm not sure) - but it could be very different for people with different beliefs, because their expectations seem to shape their experience - after all heaven is meant to be without challenge - so you may well see what you want to see.
Another thing that struck me was that Inferno and Pergatory were really just different takes on the same thing, albeit with pergatory you could see the happy ending whereas inferno got deeper. I say they're the same because they're both described as realms where people learn + get punished for 'sin' as part of a purification, the main difference seems to be how they are percieved - Pergatory is regarded as a nicer place with 'angels' guarding parts of it rather than the 'demons' of inferno - but in some ways really they're the same thing - guardians to areas where people are tortured to repent, but that maybe they approach things differently.
But this did seem like it's a path everybody takes, there's no avoiding it, we go through hell in order to get to heaven, if it's true, it makes some sense in terms of how people learn, I'd also say feel free to make the mistakes that bring out any bad side that is there so that it can be purged
One thing that bothered me though was how it all seemed to be 'by the whip' - punishment after punishment after punishement, even after a life of suffering, although suffering is the only way I can see for some things, but I try to use words where words will reach so that suffering won't be necessary to make people realise. By the time people get to heaven they must think "what now?". I think it's better to pass through all this quickly if possible, but to spend as much time as you think you need under honour - and if you don't want to, I'm sure people will make you (as was another difference between pergatory and inferno - inferno happened regardless of your will once you were in, people in purgatory sounded like they could take breaks).
Above all though, I don't understand why 'sin' or the bad side of human nature existed in the first place - why should there be anything there to purge? I don't buy the idea that sin was created by adam/eve's temptation to eat an apple - because that very temptation existed before they made their decision, so they were inherently vulnerable to something that existed from the start. In addition, their decision shouldn't have had any bearing on anyone else, it may symbolise their disobedience, but it's only theirs, it's nothing to do with us - and how could curiousity possibly be the cause of much darker, more sinister intentions of humanity, it doesn't make sense - I reckon something was there before, I don't know how or why, but something happened. I also don't buy the story that sin may be to do with satan + others rebelling out of pride, but still, in order for that to have happened, the pride must've existed beforehand, it's not the result of our deeds or our deeds itself, it's like a kind of muck we all start with, admittidly it may pressure us to develop + become strong, but I would very much like to know why it's necessary, so far I've only observed that it can work. I wish I could find another way...
Thoughts on Love...Here's to Dante... 
Dante Dante Dante!!! How is it that I can go from such a deep deep depression dying from the aches of a scorned love, to the heights of delight at the horizon of the prospect of new love. Love, no not yet, definitely not yet, but very much in like. A lot of like. In a previous blog, I asked you Dante, you wonderous philosopher on love, (read his Vita Nuova) how to extricate the painful and destructive force that is love, only to find that I end up in its slippery grip once more. I find that love is not without a sense irony or humour. So i laugh, ha ha ha HA, at Love's macabre sense of humour, for I was at the throes of DEATH not so long ago, and now I am caught in the flurry that we call LIFE. (and i am enjoying it) (the rush, the beauty are all greatest before the fall, i warn myself, but love is worth the pain, there is BEAUTY even in PAIN, but i am off topic now) I have thought about it Dante and I always said that you never left me an answer on how to get rid of the pain, the endescrible pain that love leaves behind. The kind of pain that tears a hole in your soul and leaves you standing in an endless and opaque abyss where you scream unending screams where no sound is uttered, yet the blinding and crippling pain can be felt for miles around. Its excrutiating, everyone who has loved truely and deeply and has lost love has felt this pain, they know of what I speak, yet no one, nothing can take it away. But for some reason this is true, it doesn't go away, it never goes you will always be screaming, it is just that the screaming at times gets quieted by other things or people that come into our lives to help keep our sanity, or regain our sanity once it has been lost. Dante I think I have found myself an answer I can live with, an answer that wont keep me awake at night, where I keep friends with ghosts racking my brain wondering where it was that "I" went wrong. Dante Dante Dante!!! The feeling of being unloved, the feeling of being worthless, the feeling of not being worth your weight in gold, ha HA ha, that is loves macarbre sense of humour.
The answer is to lift your head, with all the strength and power you have left, lift your head as high as you can. In all the glory of your misery and through the alkaline tears that fall from your eyes and stain your face look to the crowds, look out at them, search them, study the faces of the people that surround you, of the people that pass you by, of the people you meet. When you reach the face that lights at the sight of your haggard frame and tired face you have been found. You will find that person. It is in that person that healing and love can be found. When a person looks at you and sees the torture and the pain in your eyes and the turmoil like a tornado in your soul and finds beauty, pure beauty, and cannot look away because to them you are captivating. They do not see us in perfection, I ask, for what is perfection? (If perfection were to exist, it is unattainable. Perfection is an ideal and an institution that is a cage that people have created, in order that we could be assured of failure.) It is in the bowels of created perfection when we first fell into Love’s trap, when we had our hair done up, make-up on to precise detail, and fake dazzling smiles that match the pricy clothes bought with our souls. The fake perfection tried to hide our faults from Love but, (perfection, being what it is) we were bound to be found inherently imperfect by Love’s penetrating and stealing gaze and it is for our shortcomings that it is down into Love’s cold abyss that we were thrown away as rejects. Love is Fickle, Love fell for what it saw, but found our cracks and faults and said “No, I do not want your imperfection.” Yet, that person whose face lights up at first glance when seeing us in fallen grace, is the person who sees the cracks, the fissures, the faults, the imperfections, and says, “I see beauty, I see art, and I want it, I love it. You are mine.”
So, what is the answer; keep moving, keep living, keep loving, lift your head and look. Once we fall into Love, there is no way out, because we are creatures of Love that were meant to love. Love is cyclical, love is crazy, love is non-sensical, love is pain, love is moments of pure joy, love comes and love goes, but in the end love always comes back in one form or another. Just muster up the courage and strength to lift your head up and look.
XOXO,
AnaMaria Gonzalez 2007, Jan 12
Dante Dante Dante!!! How is it that I can go from such a deep deep depression dying from the aches of a scorned love, to the heights of delight at the horizon of the prospect of new love. Love, no not yet, definitely not yet, but very much in like. A lot of like. In a previous blog, I asked you Dante, you wonderous philosopher on love, (read his Vita Nuova) how to extricate the painful and destructive force that is love, only to find that I end up in its slippery grip once more. I find that love is not without a sense irony or humour. So i laugh, ha ha ha HA, at Love's macabre sense of humour, for I was at the throes of DEATH not so long ago, and now I am caught in the flurry that we call LIFE. (and i am enjoying it) (the rush, the beauty are all greatest before the fall, i warn myself, but love is worth the pain, there is BEAUTY even in PAIN, but i am off topic now) I have thought about it Dante and I always said that you never left me an answer on how to get rid of the pain, the endescrible pain that love leaves behind. The kind of pain that tears a hole in your soul and leaves you standing in an endless and opaque abyss where you scream unending screams where no sound is uttered, yet the blinding and crippling pain can be felt for miles around. Its excrutiating, everyone who has loved truely and deeply and has lost love has felt this pain, they know of what I speak, yet no one, nothing can take it away. But for some reason this is true, it doesn't go away, it never goes you will always be screaming, it is just that the screaming at times gets quieted by other things or people that come into our lives to help keep our sanity, or regain our sanity once it has been lost. Dante I think I have found myself an answer I can live with, an answer that wont keep me awake at night, where I keep friends with ghosts racking my brain wondering where it was that "I" went wrong. Dante Dante Dante!!! The feeling of being unloved, the feeling of being worthless, the feeling of not being worth your weight in gold, ha HA ha, that is loves macarbre sense of humour.
The answer is to lift your head, with all the strength and power you have left, lift your head as high as you can. In all the glory of your misery and through the alkaline tears that fall from your eyes and stain your face look to the crowds, look out at them, search them, study the faces of the people that surround you, of the people that pass you by, of the people you meet. When you reach the face that lights at the sight of your haggard frame and tired face you have been found. You will find that person. It is in that person that healing and love can be found. When a person looks at you and sees the torture and the pain in your eyes and the turmoil like a tornado in your soul and finds beauty, pure beauty, and cannot look away because to them you are captivating. They do not see us in perfection, I ask, for what is perfection? (If perfection were to exist, it is unattainable. Perfection is an ideal and an institution that is a cage that people have created, in order that we could be assured of failure.) It is in the bowels of created perfection when we first fell into Love’s trap, when we had our hair done up, make-up on to precise detail, and fake dazzling smiles that match the pricy clothes bought with our souls. The fake perfection tried to hide our faults from Love but, (perfection, being what it is) we were bound to be found inherently imperfect by Love’s penetrating and stealing gaze and it is for our shortcomings that it is down into Love’s cold abyss that we were thrown away as rejects. Love is Fickle, Love fell for what it saw, but found our cracks and faults and said “No, I do not want your imperfection.” Yet, that person whose face lights up at first glance when seeing us in fallen grace, is the person who sees the cracks, the fissures, the faults, the imperfections, and says, “I see beauty, I see art, and I want it, I love it. You are mine.”
So, what is the answer; keep moving, keep living, keep loving, lift your head and look. Once we fall into Love, there is no way out, because we are creatures of Love that were meant to love. Love is cyclical, love is crazy, love is non-sensical, love is pain, love is moments of pure joy, love comes and love goes, but in the end love always comes back in one form or another. Just muster up the courage and strength to lift your head up and look.
XOXO,
AnaMaria Gonzalez 2007, Jan 12
.117.
Here i am again, and blog i shall.
Well, this weekend has consisted of watching some movies, watched a few with oysters3, which included Donnie Darko, Calvaire(that french horror flick that scared the shit out of me...which, wasn't so scary the 2nd time around), and part of A Clockwork Orange...yes, my favorite movie of all time, finally came in yesterday, it's been on backorder for almost a month.
Yep...nothing much has been happening lately, been reading The Inferno by Dante again, going to write a book report on it.
Nothing much else...just getting back into the groove of things.
Well, this weekend has consisted of watching some movies, watched a few with oysters3, which included Donnie Darko, Calvaire(that french horror flick that scared the shit out of me...which, wasn't so scary the 2nd time around), and part of A Clockwork Orange...yes, my favorite movie of all time, finally came in yesterday, it's been on backorder for almost a month.
Yep...nothing much has been happening lately, been reading The Inferno by Dante again, going to write a book report on it.
Nothing much else...just getting back into the groove of things.
Food For Thought, and an unfinished interview
"Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita."
"Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost."
-Dante Alighieri, The Inferno
Happy Wintereenmas, everyone.
Interview With A Dragon
"Old Scarface, they call me. Guess it's pretty accurate, but still, you'd think they'd show a little more respect to someone who's repeatedly saved their asses over the past few aeons." He chuckles softly and slugs his ale.
I must say, when I was told to meet the most venerable specimen of Draconis rex, I hardly expected the interview to take place in a tavern, let alone one so shabby as this.
"You were expecting a dragon's lair, full of gold and whatnot, weren't you," he laughs as I tell him. "Never much bothered with all that nonsense- we're supposed to be some kind of peacekeepers, not treasure-hoarders. Not to say I don't have a tidy sum in an account in Innsmouth, that is."
Times most certainly have changed.
"Yeah, not much good comes from sitting on a pile of gems- doesn't accrue any interest, and you're stuck watching over the damned thing just to make sure nobody gets any ideas. Fuckin' inconvenient. I prefer getting out and raising a little hell in my old age." Another laugh. "You wouldn't believe how many adventuring parties I've joined up with who're all trying to get their mitts on my hoard. It's the big thing nowadays, apparently.
"Kids these days! All they want to do is get the best of everything, now, now, now. No patience anymore. Used to be I'd have one apprentice every half millenium. Now they're lining up at my door, all too eager, no-one willing to take the time and make the effort to be a half-decent mage. Sad, really.
"Oh well. Guess the times are changing. I feel sorry for any poor bastard who takes on one of those impatient wanna-bes."
So now that he's given up training acolytes, what had he been up to in recent years?
"Ye gods, what haven't I been up to? Adventuring, mostly. Hearkening back to my younger days. Surprised the blue-eyed hell out of a few kids when they found out their ex-army curmudgeon was a fuckin' dragon. Funny, really. This one group had been going on and on about how easy dragon-slaying was, how stupid we'd all gotten, yadda yadda. I say nothing, keep quiet, and when we were all about to get gutted, bam, back to true form, kick some ass, and turn around to find the rest of the party has quietly shat themselves. Apparently they hadn't figured on me being so damn big. Seems like they'd been going after drakes; never even seen a real dragon before. Gave them more than a little pause, I'll tell you that.
"Spent a little time up north, with those really big orcs up in Svallund. Good bunch, really. Shame they had to retreat so far into the wastes to keep from getting slaved out. Met one- Reig, I think his name was- lost his entire family to slavers. Been leading warbands down south in revenge, and I can't say I blame him. One of these days I want to get some of your University fellas to interview him, get his story out there. Slave trade just ain't right."
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita."
"Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost."
-Dante Alighieri, The Inferno
Happy Wintereenmas, everyone.
Interview With A Dragon
"Old Scarface, they call me. Guess it's pretty accurate, but still, you'd think they'd show a little more respect to someone who's repeatedly saved their asses over the past few aeons." He chuckles softly and slugs his ale.
I must say, when I was told to meet the most venerable specimen of Draconis rex, I hardly expected the interview to take place in a tavern, let alone one so shabby as this.
"You were expecting a dragon's lair, full of gold and whatnot, weren't you," he laughs as I tell him. "Never much bothered with all that nonsense- we're supposed to be some kind of peacekeepers, not treasure-hoarders. Not to say I don't have a tidy sum in an account in Innsmouth, that is."
Times most certainly have changed.
"Yeah, not much good comes from sitting on a pile of gems- doesn't accrue any interest, and you're stuck watching over the damned thing just to make sure nobody gets any ideas. Fuckin' inconvenient. I prefer getting out and raising a little hell in my old age." Another laugh. "You wouldn't believe how many adventuring parties I've joined up with who're all trying to get their mitts on my hoard. It's the big thing nowadays, apparently.
"Kids these days! All they want to do is get the best of everything, now, now, now. No patience anymore. Used to be I'd have one apprentice every half millenium. Now they're lining up at my door, all too eager, no-one willing to take the time and make the effort to be a half-decent mage. Sad, really.
"Oh well. Guess the times are changing. I feel sorry for any poor bastard who takes on one of those impatient wanna-bes."
So now that he's given up training acolytes, what had he been up to in recent years?
"Ye gods, what haven't I been up to? Adventuring, mostly. Hearkening back to my younger days. Surprised the blue-eyed hell out of a few kids when they found out their ex-army curmudgeon was a fuckin' dragon. Funny, really. This one group had been going on and on about how easy dragon-slaying was, how stupid we'd all gotten, yadda yadda. I say nothing, keep quiet, and when we were all about to get gutted, bam, back to true form, kick some ass, and turn around to find the rest of the party has quietly shat themselves. Apparently they hadn't figured on me being so damn big. Seems like they'd been going after drakes; never even seen a real dragon before. Gave them more than a little pause, I'll tell you that.
"Spent a little time up north, with those really big orcs up in Svallund. Good bunch, really. Shame they had to retreat so far into the wastes to keep from getting slaved out. Met one- Reig, I think his name was- lost his entire family to slavers. Been leading warbands down south in revenge, and I can't say I blame him. One of these days I want to get some of your University fellas to interview him, get his story out there. Slave trade just ain't right."
Finding a Bed in Florence
I prepared for my trip to Florence by reading EM Forsters A Room With A View, but the book, however much fun to read, was misleading because it implied there would be rooms to sleep in in Florence. We've had a lot of trouble finding places to stay, with views or otherwise. The original plan was to spend a day in Sienna after Pisa, and then go on to Florence. But Lindsay was supposed to book the hostel in Sienna, and apparently the computer connections aren't too reliable in Mali, so she asked her mother to do it for her from her US computer. Apparently her mom forgot to make the booking, so we decided rather than spend a single night in Sienna, it would be best to go straight to Florence. We showed up without a place to stay, however, and after a quick consultation with the guidebook decided it would be best to go to tourist information in the train station and get a room for the night.
The woman in tourist information took one look at us and said "Cheap cheap cheap?" and we said yes, we needed a place to stay for two people, one night at the cheapest possible rate. She smiled and nodded and made a lot of phonecalls in rapid sucession, speaking in breathless Italian, and finally after several tries found us two hostel beds for the night. We thanked her, and received the map she gave us and made our way through some very unpleasant and unseasonable rain to our hotel room. With the room taken care of, we decided to brave the wet in order to do some sight seeing, and found ourselves outside Saint Croce Church, the church where the hero and heroine of A Room With A View have their first real conversation. We planned to duck our heads in and take a quick peak, but we soon found out that that was impossible.
The church turned out to be the burial sight of Galileo, Machiavelli, Micheangelo and others, though not, interestingly enough of Dante. Dante is buried in Ravenna, but that didn't stop Saint Croce from building a huge garrish monument in honor of the Florentine poet. I've never been a big Dante fan despite slogging my way through three different translations of the Inferno. When I saw his monument I think I understood why. He always looks incredibly dour, as if he was having bad indigestion; I think it comes out in his writing.
The next day we had to move to our hostel that Lindsay had also booked from Mali (the deal was that she would book Florence and Sienna, I would book Venice and Pisa). Rather than head straight to our Hostel, however, we decided to do some early sight seeing, and made it to the Duomo in time to be first in line when it opened. The guidebook was not too enthusiastic about the church, claiming it was "chilly and austere" on the inside, but I enjoyed it immensely. The inside doesn't feel cluttered the way some of these churches can be. After the Duomo we headed across the way to the Baptistry to gaze at Ghiberti's "Gates of Paradise," which was obscured by a sea of tourists. I'm short enough, however, that I eventually wrangled my way to the front, and I'm glad I did, the doors are truly breathtaking.
The Piazza was beginning to get absolutely swamped with tour groups, so we headed back to our hostel to collect our bags and carried them through the wet and cold to the hostel we had booked for the next five nights.
The hostel looked amazing, it was up a steep flight of stairs, but had large windows and wooden floors as well as offering free internet. There were signs all over in broken English reminding guests that "The waisting of the energy was a crime against the enviroment" and other helpful hostel hints. When we got there, however, the woman couldn't find our booking. There was much sturm und drang, and the management was called, while we nervously looked over the reservation and tried to decipher the rapid Italian the receptionist was shouting into the phone. Eventually we realized that the reservation was for May, and we were here in June. The hostel was booked solid all five nights, and we had nowhere to stay. We asked the receptionist if she had any suggestions of places to stay, and she said that as far as she knew the entire city was booked solid. It turns out that the next day, the second of June, was a national holiday, and meaning it was a popular time to visit. She wouldn't let us use the phone, but she was nice enough to let us store our bags while we found a place to stay.
We returned to the street with absolutely no idea of what to do. We found a phone and began to call all of the hostels in the guidebook. All of them were booked solid for the next two nights, but we finally found a place that will take us for the last three nights of our stay. Lindsay went off to find an internet cafe where she could confirm the booking, and I headed in the other direction to find us a bed for the night. My plan was to head to the tourist office, but I realized that the streets on the way to the train station seemed to be lined with wall to wall hotels. I stopped into a few of the cheaper looking ones, all of which seemed to be booked solid for the next two nights (I even encountered a panicky couple whose reservations had also fallen through screaming at an unfortunate receptionist) Finally I found a one star hotel with a single room left. It was little more than a broom cubbard, but breakfast was included, and the room had a TV. Grateful to have a place to stay I headed back to collect both Lindsay and the luggage. I've learned two things from the whole experience--the first is never have anybody make a hotel booking from Mali, and the second is that commercials are more entertaining in Italian.
The woman in tourist information took one look at us and said "Cheap cheap cheap?" and we said yes, we needed a place to stay for two people, one night at the cheapest possible rate. She smiled and nodded and made a lot of phonecalls in rapid sucession, speaking in breathless Italian, and finally after several tries found us two hostel beds for the night. We thanked her, and received the map she gave us and made our way through some very unpleasant and unseasonable rain to our hotel room. With the room taken care of, we decided to brave the wet in order to do some sight seeing, and found ourselves outside Saint Croce Church, the church where the hero and heroine of A Room With A View have their first real conversation. We planned to duck our heads in and take a quick peak, but we soon found out that that was impossible.
The church turned out to be the burial sight of Galileo, Machiavelli, Micheangelo and others, though not, interestingly enough of Dante. Dante is buried in Ravenna, but that didn't stop Saint Croce from building a huge garrish monument in honor of the Florentine poet. I've never been a big Dante fan despite slogging my way through three different translations of the Inferno. When I saw his monument I think I understood why. He always looks incredibly dour, as if he was having bad indigestion; I think it comes out in his writing.
The next day we had to move to our hostel that Lindsay had also booked from Mali (the deal was that she would book Florence and Sienna, I would book Venice and Pisa). Rather than head straight to our Hostel, however, we decided to do some early sight seeing, and made it to the Duomo in time to be first in line when it opened. The guidebook was not too enthusiastic about the church, claiming it was "chilly and austere" on the inside, but I enjoyed it immensely. The inside doesn't feel cluttered the way some of these churches can be. After the Duomo we headed across the way to the Baptistry to gaze at Ghiberti's "Gates of Paradise," which was obscured by a sea of tourists. I'm short enough, however, that I eventually wrangled my way to the front, and I'm glad I did, the doors are truly breathtaking.
The Piazza was beginning to get absolutely swamped with tour groups, so we headed back to our hostel to collect our bags and carried them through the wet and cold to the hostel we had booked for the next five nights.
The hostel looked amazing, it was up a steep flight of stairs, but had large windows and wooden floors as well as offering free internet. There were signs all over in broken English reminding guests that "The waisting of the energy was a crime against the enviroment" and other helpful hostel hints. When we got there, however, the woman couldn't find our booking. There was much sturm und drang, and the management was called, while we nervously looked over the reservation and tried to decipher the rapid Italian the receptionist was shouting into the phone. Eventually we realized that the reservation was for May, and we were here in June. The hostel was booked solid all five nights, and we had nowhere to stay. We asked the receptionist if she had any suggestions of places to stay, and she said that as far as she knew the entire city was booked solid. It turns out that the next day, the second of June, was a national holiday, and meaning it was a popular time to visit. She wouldn't let us use the phone, but she was nice enough to let us store our bags while we found a place to stay.
We returned to the street with absolutely no idea of what to do. We found a phone and began to call all of the hostels in the guidebook. All of them were booked solid for the next two nights, but we finally found a place that will take us for the last three nights of our stay. Lindsay went off to find an internet cafe where she could confirm the booking, and I headed in the other direction to find us a bed for the night. My plan was to head to the tourist office, but I realized that the streets on the way to the train station seemed to be lined with wall to wall hotels. I stopped into a few of the cheaper looking ones, all of which seemed to be booked solid for the next two nights (I even encountered a panicky couple whose reservations had also fallen through screaming at an unfortunate receptionist) Finally I found a one star hotel with a single room left. It was little more than a broom cubbard, but breakfast was included, and the room had a TV. Grateful to have a place to stay I headed back to collect both Lindsay and the luggage. I've learned two things from the whole experience--the first is never have anybody make a hotel booking from Mali, and the second is that commercials are more entertaining in Italian.
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Re: Mindsay Blog Reunion Tour (Day:007): I missed Day:006 - Mine is more boring. ;)
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