A Matter of Perspective

With only one day left to see Florence, I realised I was never going to see everything there was to see today. With my morning already taken care of, I discovered there was a bus tour that goes around the main sights of the city. Figuring this being my best option, I noted where it was leaving from and hurried off for my morning date.

I entered the museum this morning to see Michaelangelo's David, possibly one of the most famous sculptures in history. Naturally, I've already seen pictures of it so I knew what to expect, but there's a difference between knowing what to expect and actually seeing something for yourself.

Taking in the rest of the art on display, I slowly made my way around the museum until I noticed a sign on the wall pointing to where David was stationed. Once again, like the Tower of Pisa yesterday, it's really not something you can miss. Turning the corner, I looked up and bam, there he was at the end of the corridor.

Rather than rush down immediately, I took my time to appreciate the other carvings and paintings adorning the walls until I was face to toe with the man himself. What I wasn't prepared for, and it's something that the pictures don't give a clear indication of (yet another reason why it's an amazing experience to see things things for myself) is just how huge this statue is! For some reason, I was expecting it to be roughly the same size as a person – how wrong I was.

Even from the back of the room you could tell David was a giant, amusing considering what he's just about to hurl a rock at. At a guess, he looked around 15 feet of chiseled perfection (and, with no fig leaf, he looked about... oh come on, like I'm going to spoil the surprise!). It truly is a magnificent sculpture and, like the best art, offers new interpretations depending on your perspective.

For example, while I was standing to his right I overheard someone mention the look on his face appears to change depending which side you stand on. From my perspective, he seemed ready and determined, eyes steeled ready for his big moment. Moving to the other side, however, his reaction appeared to be almost wariness, a realisation of what's about to come and whether he's made a terribly smart decision.

I'm not entirely sure I was actually looking at the real thing, though. There are two versions that are on display at alternate times, the real one and a copy. Apparently, you can tell the real one as its toes were damaged by a visitor in 1991 and every now and then they swap them in order to keep the real one in perfect condition. Even though the damage was repaired, I'd read you can still see where the fix was made. I didn't notice anything during my inspection, but to be honest it doesn't matter a great deal to me – either way, it was a spectacular start to my morning.

After taking in more of the gallery, including a collection of musical instruments dating back hundreds of years, I made my way outside to find where the bus was leaving. Walking for about 20 minutes, I eventually discovered it was almost exactly at the doorstop of the museum I'd just been at!

Hopping on board, I took the chance to relax a bit and see the sights from the top of a double-decker bus. Winding through the streets into areas I'd not managed to make it to yet, a further appreciation for this beautiful city began to unfold before my very eyes. High on my list of places to visit was the Piazzale Michelangelo that promised an unbeatable panoramic view of the entire city – and, as has been happening a lot recently, lived entirely up to its promise.

After riding the bus for a while I decided to hop off at the Ponte Vecchio, one of the four main bridges that crosses the river – and the only one that survived bombing during WWII. Further walking found me back in the Palazzo Vecchio that I'd stumbled upon the other day and, as luck would have it, was exactly where I wanted to be as it was the location of Galleria degli Uffizi, one of the world's most famous art museums.

Again, rather than the long queues I'd be warned about, I was able to walk right inside and start admiring the masterpieces immediately. Probably the most famous piece on exhibit is Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, but also the massive collection were pieces by Da Vinci, Carravaggio and dozens of other talented Renaissance artists.

Now, here's a bit of trivia for you: did you know there are over 100 documented cases of people experiencing dizziness and fainting from viewing the art at the Uffizi? It's true, it's called Stendahl Syndrome and while I can't claim to have suffered it myself, I can claim that the cumulative effect of everything I've done so far this week has started to take its toll. Having walked through the gallery for almost two hours, my body was ready to collapse from exhaustion.

Rather than admit defeat, though, I decided to take another two hour stroll around the city to take in the street-level sights one last time before I move on to the next, and final, destination of my trip: Rome.