One Moment of Perfect Beauty

I awoke this morning to the pitter patter of raindrops outside, a nice sound to go to sleep to but not the greatest start to the day at the best of times, made less pleasant due to my plans for the day. This didn't deter me a single bit, though, and I was out the door and on the train bound for Pisa before 9am.

There are moments in your life when realisation suddenly strikes, when you suddenly become acutely aware of your surroundings and the moment becomes enshrined in your mind. Sometimes they're called moments of clarity, other times an epiphany. Whatever they are, they often turn out to be a crystal clear memory of wonder that often turns your life around – generally, for the better.

I've had a few of these moments over the last couple of years. Probably the most important was the realisation that I had to remove myself from a relationship that was slowly destroying me, the result of which was the decision to move half a world away and start a new life – a by-product being this journal you're reading now.

Then there are the moments that aren't life-changing, but are still monumental and tend to leave a big ol' smile on your face for a good long time. I tend to get these quite often, generally when I stop and look around and realise, wow, I live in London! However, these moments occur most while I'm traveling, and this week they've been coming thick and fast.

I bring all of this up now because today I saw the Leaning Tower of Pisa – and it was awesome!!

After arriving at the train station around 10am, I started wandering in a direction that looked promising and hoped for the best. I was only here for the day and there didn't appear to be too much to see, so I figured it was worth taking my time and not rushing myself.

As I continued walking I noticed some signs pointing out where the Tower was, so I looked up – and there really didn't need to be a sign. Peeking over the top of a row of buildings, there it was. Instantly a smile came to my face; I was really here.

Coming to the end of the street the entire area became visible: there was the Tower to the right, the Duomo bang in the centre dominating the area, with the Baptistry at the other end – but right now it was the Tower dominating my view. Apparently it was raining, but I didn't really notice; I was standing at the base of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, something I've seen in books, movies, photos, on teevee ever since I was a kid. Here it was, mere metres in front of me. It was beautiful.

I'd read that you needed to book a time in order to climb it, so I found the ticket booth and expected to have to wait several hours for my turn. Instead – I guess it was the time of the year, or the weather – there was plenty of room on the next tour just five minutes away. Incredible, I'd only just found it 10 minutes earlier and now I was going to be climbing it – all by 11am!

I have no idea how many steps there were, but it was a lot of fun to climb. As you can imagine, the lean gives each step slope a different angle, so on one side they're pointing up, the next sloping to the right, next slightly pointed down, then sloping back to the left... all the way to the top. As the tower isn't very tall, it didn't take long to reach the summit – and it still didn't stop me from getting giddy when I made it there.

From the top the view was spectacular: right up close was the immediate area of the Duomo, Baptistry and Campo Santo Monumentale (a cemetery), while slightly further out was the top of Pisa itself, and further out beyond the city lie the hills of Tuscany. Although today they were shrouded in fog, it was still a sight to behold.

With only 20 minutes allotted to the visit, my time at the summit of the Tower soon came to an end. Heading back down the narrow, slippery steps, I paused for one last time to marvel at my current predicament: half way across the world from where I grew up, half way up one of the most famous landmarks in history – this is a moment I'm never going to forget.

Back to reality, I took a walk around the area and into the Duomo (because it was free). Inside this time were paintings, carvings, statues and other artworks from hundreds of years ago – and this time, no stairs! After admiring these stunning, intricate pieces of art, my stomache decided it'd had enough of my brain being fed and now was its turn.

Having been warned not to eat anywhere near the Tower, I took off for a walk through the rest of the town – making sure I passed through the Piazza dei Cavalieri on the way. Although it's not that big, there are quite a few interesting sights to see around the area, but with the grumbling in my belly growing louder I found the closest pizza place. Ordering a slice of one of the best tasting pieces of pizza I've ever eaten, I took a break to check my travel notes to see what else was around I could see.

As it turns out, I'd skipped something big – the Baptistry! Having already seen two of the four major sights in the area, I figured I'd give it a miss as my wallet has been feeling the pressure quite badly the last few days and I wasn't sure it would be worth it. However, revisiting my notes and seeing the words 'a must see' changed my mind, so back I headed to purchase a ticket for it and the Campo Santo Monumentale.

While it doesn't have the same allure as the Tower or the Duomo, the Baptistry has one feature that beats them both, hands down. Essentially it's just a dome, but so carefully crafted that it produces the most stunning natural reverberation I've ever heard: just one whisper will echo around the room for an unbelievable amount of time (you could go and get a bite to eat and it'd still be going!). Every 30 minutes one of the door staff comes in to demonstrate and, eager not to miss out, I took a seat and waited.

Not two minutes later, a fairly surly looking guy entered the room, closed the doors and walked to the centre of the room... and produced the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life. Each note he sang out echoed throughout the room, and as he continued to sing, each note blended together to form chords – all generated by his voice. He continued with this for only a minute or two, but it was enough to make my jaw drop to the floor, my heart jump – and yet another massive smile take over my face.

Outside, I found this amazing singer by the door smoking a cigar, so I thanked him profusely and continued on to the Cemetery. This modest building (in comparison to the others, to be fair) houses dozens of ancient Roman sarcophagi, artworks and some impressive frescoes. Much of the restoration still in progress (there were quite a few people working on the walls while I was there), however it was still obvious to see how much skill went into creating these ancient pieces.

Having exhausted the sights of this area, I took a walk back to through the town, in particular along the river that divides the city in two before heading back to the train station. Although this day jaunt didn't last as long as I was expecting, I felt more than satisfied by what I'd seen – and I'm still smiling like a loon as I write this.