Hey, you guys,

Thanks to some of you for writing in your embarrassing dining stories, which we enjoyed so much (and which Don especially very much appreciated). I am copying a few here. The names have been deleted to protect the innocent.

Hello Don and Era,
We both enjoyed your travelogue.  Especially enjoyed the story of the unshucked shrimp!  I have a similar story of a pea being sucked into the nasal cavity accidentally, and then exiting in a sneeze and landing on the plate of the Duchess of Something or Other.  And being terribly polite, she simply ate around it.
Vicarious travel is great, and such a bargain.

Dear Era and Don,
It's great being on your travel blog. It is almost like being there. Don's shrimp faux pas is the kind of thing I usually do. But usually mine involves spilling a glass of wine (red of course) on my dinner partner (usually a woman and always her glass since I don't drink).

Dear Era,
You may remember the story of my waitressing days: when holding a tray overhead to clear some passing diners, I inadvertently allowed a full plate of enchiladas to slip off the tray behind me, landing on the unsuspecting head of a businessman who was in the middle of a business lunch. It proceeded to slither down the back and front of his gray suit. His fellow diners got a good laugh out of it and thankfully he had a sense of humor also. I was mortified.

Thank goodness for good humor,

Era and Don

Hi all,

Rather annoying, but my fully formed last email disappeared before I could send it out. So this is a rewrite.

On our last day in Stockholm (we were only in Stockholm for 4 nights), we took a ferry ride on a beautiful day which took us through a couple locks and into both Lake Mälaren and the Baltic Sea. Stockholm is built across 14 islands.

Took these photos of an area with new and ecological housing; they are deriving much of their power from methane extracted from their sewage. The combination of older boats and new housing seemed peculiarly Swedish to me. In fact, we saw mostly older boats on our little excursion.





Our recorded tour guide told us that Stockholm's archipelago is made up of 30,000 islands. We found that a little hard to swallow, so I googled it and it does appear to be correct (from the sacredearth-travel web site):

Yet, one would almost not believe that Stockholm is actually facing the Baltic - it is exceedingly well protected from the tidings of the sea by the plethora of large and small islands that are scattered all around it ... Estimates run from 24,000 - 30,000, but nobody is quite sure. Some are mere rocks poking out above the water; others are fully fledged islands, with villages and all. Others used to be islands, once upon a time, but over the years have become peninsulas - for Sweden has a unique geological feature - unlike other landmasses, which are disappearing under the rising oceans, Sweden continues to lift itself out of the waters of the Baltic Sea - at a rate of about 1 cm per hundred years. This is due to the fact that the glaciers which covered Sweden during the last ice age have all melted away, relieving the land of an enormous weight pressure and allowing it to slowly rise, centimetre by centimetre.


That oddly angled red and black building towards the right is the Vasa Museum, which houses the reassembled, highly decorated ship fished out of the waters after sinking 300 years ago.


 Lewis told me when he first came to Stockholm, it reminded him of Paris. I couldn't see it, but this scene does look a bit French to me.

We were not looking forward to the long trip home (which did involve Ryanair), but it turned out to be pretty tolerable. We stayed overnight at Connect Hotel across the street from Skavsta Airport (early morning Ryanair flight). A bit like staying in an Ikea showroom, but actually very well-designed and comfortable. Also super reasonable, especially for Sweden.


Connect Hotel has many lounges and public areas, probably because the hotel rooms are so small. It is very well thought out.


Don't know if you can see this from the photo, but the shower doors swing flat against the tile walls. When you want to take a shower, you pull them out and they interlock easily. Very important to us: the beds are very comfortable. The Diplomat in Stockholm quite possibly has the most comfortable mattress we have ever experienced, but Connect Hotel comes in second place for the trip. Our bed at home beats it out.

Survived the control freaks at Ryanair and arrived in Germany, again staying near the airport because of an early morning flight. The hotel in Kelsterbach was comfortable, but nothing remarkable. We took a walk through the small town and ended up hiking along the River Main.


River Main, looking towards Frankfurt.


No weight loss occurring here. Early dinner at Zum Schutzenhof, which has possibly been a restaurant since 1611. At least the building has been around since 1611. My German is nonexistent, so couldn't quite tell what the story is. The walls are festooned with antlers and deer heads. Here, we are eating a chicken cordon bleu with frites, washed down with German beer, heavy, straight-forward and pretty darn good. We did have a salad beforehand with some very well prepared sauerkraut.

Lovely comfortable flight to NY on Singapore. Economy, but we did pay for extra leg room (well worth it). Long layover at JFK (about 5 hours), and then a minor misery of a flight home on Virgin America, where we were squeezed into the back of the plane - the result of last-minute schedule changes on our part.

So we're home, back at Magnolia, and recovering, not too rapidly, from jet lag.

Love,

Era and Don

Hi all,

Random pics, drawing to a close:


This bronze statue is heated and not far from our hotel. It's a public service; we figured it has probably saved people's lives. It is friggin cold. I am wearing about 5 layers, just about everything I brought with any warmth value. Shown huddling around the warm bronze lady are: Don (who doesn't look very cold; he has a Norte Euro sort of heritage), Lewis deSoto, Squeak Carnwath and Era (all artists showing in The Missing Peace).


Lewis enjoying his food (swallowing a hot dog). Judy, Chandra and Era are enjoying it as well.

We spent an hour or so at a high-end coffee shop watching the Stockholmers go by. As Chandra said, it looked like a fashion runway. It seemed they were all tall, slim and good-looking, stylishly dressed.


Most of our friends left, and Don and I were "alone" in Stockholm. We did have drinks with Filippo di Sambuy and his wife, Patrizia - heard a little about the art world in Italy. We told him about The Missing Peace in Romania. Wanted to visit Galleri Astley, recommended to us by our friend Abby, but it was some distance away and we would have to stay overnight. Nervous about missing the plane.


So now we have to entertain each other. Here is Don eating flat bread and looking excited to see me; wouldn't you say? The Diplomat has a great breakfast buffet.

Email from Darlene; she and Ron were in Mumbai already. So strange that they could be in Sweden with us one minute and India the next. She said that the man standing next to me at The Nobel Museum is named Olov, the Museum's director (see first Stockholm email) and the singer she thinks is Kesang.


Shopping alone, almost, at the covered market, up the street from our hotel. Sometimes this market is so crowded that it is difficult to push your way through the aisles.


Checking out the bakery. They had the most delicious cardamon croissants. Don't ask about my outfit; I'm just trying to keep warm.

We walked out of our hotel and were greeted with the sound of fife and drum. Who can resist a marching band and soldiers strutting their stuff? especially in these outfits.



We followed them all the way to the Royal Palace. As Don says, a much more satisfactory way of generating patriotism than some others (like starting a war).

One more to come.

Love,

Era and Don

Hi everyone,

I should add that one reason spirits were so high at The Nobel Museum was that all that week the Nobel Committee had been announcing the winners of the various Nobel prize winners for 2010, one a day. The day of the opening the Nobel Committee in Oslo announced the winner of the Peace Prize, Liu Xiaobo, the Chinese human rights activist, now imprisoned in China and serving a term of 11 years. Liu Xiaobo has been an activist in China since at least Tiananmen Square; he seems to have always been nonviolent and seems to be a very courageous, moral and well-deserving person, really a hero. So wonderful that he and the dissident human rights movement in China have been given this recognition.

I saw an interview with Geir Lundestad, Secretary of the Norwegian Nobel Committee. When asked, he stated that the Chinese government did try to pressure the Nobel Committee to choose a different winner other than Liu Xiaobo. He also said that they are an independent committee and it would be wrong of China to try to punish the Norwegian government for the Committee's choice. He stated that China is now a world power and can be expected to be under increasing scrutiny, as is the US, and that this is only right. He also said that they are very proud of their record of Peace Prize winners. I should say so; with good reason.

We went back to Gamla Stan (Stockholm's old town) to get a better, more complete picture of the Nobel Museum. It's a beautiful building, and we just didn't feel right about having only a small section of it to show you. Don ended up taking a panorama of 3 sides of the small square. The red banner hanging in the front is advertising The Missing Peace. The image is from Spanish artist Salustiano's piece in the show.


A group of us stayed at The Diplomat Hotel in Stockholm, very posh but snug rooms, especially after our roomy apartments in Florence. When we took a tour by ferry the recorded tour guide called the street The Diplomat is on the most posh address in Stockholm. I doubt that, but it is a great location, central and on the water.


The Diplomat is the one with the orange awnings.


I love their elevator.

We arrived in the afternoon before the opening and went to dinner with Gary and Squeak. Gary and Squeak had been in Stockholm for almost a week. They took us to a seafood place which had been recommended to them by Stockholmers (actually, collectors of Squeak) and which Squeak and Gary had tried and liked. It had been open for only 3 weeks. The owner was very friendly and spent quite a bit of time with each table, making pleasantries and telling us about the specials. We had some green oysters, which were a rare delicacy, with a price tag to match, and some more normal oysters. All delicious. Squeak and I had monk fish, Gary had duck, and Don has mussels and frites. Don and I always split everything. We had a very nice dinner, catching up on what everyone was up to, and S & G's recommendations of what we should do and see in Stockholm.


As we were leaving the restaurant, we noticed the owner having a sumptuous feast at a table alone. He had crab, lobster, a huge pile of shrimp, and a large crouton with what looked like a paté spread with slivers of roasted red peppers set on the table alongside his plate. He urged us all to try one of his shrimp, and they did look delicious, but we were all too full, with the exception of Don, who accepted a shrimp held up at arm's length from the seated proprietor - and popped it in his mouth. Don didn't have his glasses on and hadn't realized that the shrimp still had their shells. So he had the dual problem of a mouth full of shells, which he was doing his best to masticate, and a shrimp head which he was holding in his hand. Much to my horror, he carefully and delicately dropped the severed shrimp head onto the restauranteur's crouton; not right on top, to the side, but unfortunately touching it. I gasped "Don!" but quickly turned my back as I started laughing, fairly hysterically and almost silently. I couldn't stop. Realizing his faux pas, Don delicately removed the severed head from the crouton and - squinting the proprietor's plate into focus - found the actual pile of shrimp shells which the proprietor had mounded on the same plate he was eating from. A conversation ensued and Don kept eyeing the door, thinking he could slip out and extricate the masticated shell unobserved, but due to the length of the exit conversation (something about Squeak's lost hat) Don was forced to swallow the rich calcium purée, choking it down, slowly, in six swallows. Mr. Bean could not have done it better... Don later explained that he thought he was dropping his shrimp head onto a pile of discarded shrimp shells off the plate piled on the table, not the delicious-looking crouton. He didn't realize anything was wrong until he noticed me bouncing up and down with suppressed laughter.

Fortunately, the restauranteur was a casual type; wearing a cowboy hat and boots (so I guess he wasn't totally averse to Americans, at least not up to this point). Don said after the man's intial wide-eyed shock, he made a quick recovery and didn't appear very put out. In Don's defense, he wasn't wearing his glasses, the large crouton was on the table, not on the restauranteur's overloaded plate, and it did have those little slices of red pepper on it. This episode gave me the giggles for days afterward, whenever I thought of it. Don initially begged me not to put this into the travel blog, but later relented as it lost its sting and he began to see the humor of it.


Don standing in front of a schooner which has been converted into a youth hostel. He and his brother, Roger, stayed there when Don was 15. As he relates, David Tunick, now a famous old masters graphics dealer, slept on the upper bunk.



The Vasa Museum, a reconstructed highly ornate ship from the 17th century. The pride of Sweden. It took its maiden voyage out of the harbor, and after several minutes, in full view of the admiring crowd, tipped over and sank. It turned out it was too top-heavy. It was buried in the cold Swedish waters for over 300 years, discovered in the '60's, if I recall correctly. It's an ongoing project of fishing out all the pieces, cleaning and preserving them and fitting them together.


An exhibit of Chinese terra cotta warriors was showing at the Stockholm Asian Museum. The exhibit was presented very dramatically in caves under the Museum. The caves had been used for military purposes during WWII, and this was the first time they had been used for a major exhibition. It did give one some small sense of how it might have felt to uncover these sculptures from their tomb beneath the earth. It must have been just awesome.

We saw a video which accompanied the exhibition which said that the Qin Dynasty, the people who were more or less responsible for unifying China, and who gave their name to China, were at war for 500 years. Let's hope generations to come won't be able to say this about us, the American experiment.

Much love,

Era and Don

Hi everyone,

What a beautiful city Stockholm is. Located over a series of islands, it reminds us a little of a cross between Vancouver and Amsterdam, with some Seattle thrown in. We came here to attend the opening of The Missing Peace at the Nobel Museum. Staying at the Diplomat Hotel with Squeak Carnwath and Gary Knecht, and Lewis de Soto and Chandra Cerrito and Chandra's mom, Judy Cerrito. Quite a few artists have shown up for this one, and also a curator from Romania, Anca Mihulet and her installer boyfriend Sebastian, so it was a bit like a summer camp reunion.


The day we arrived it rained, but the next day, the day of the opening was quite lovely. Today is very bright and sunny and cold.


The Nobel Museum right before the opening reception. That is Michelle Townsend working away, doing her condition report.


Another view of The Missing Peace before the opening. There is an aerial track strung from the ceiling where banners of Nobel prize winners drift by on a regular basis.


A Tibetan singer, didn't get his name, who performed a beautifully haunting song. Starting L to R with the people wearing the golden scarves: the man with the beard is their very innovative installer at the Nobel Museum, who did the moving banners of the Nobel prize winners on the tracks, the two blondish women are Karin and Anna, curators at the Nobel Museum who we met in Romania; wearing the white scarf is Era, and the last golden scarf wearer is someone important at the Museum, but don't know his name. Pinch me, we're exhibiting at the Nobel Museum.


Katarina Wong, looking as if she is getting ready to take off, along with her piece.



The exhibition is beautifully installed and lit.




Two-fisted toasting.
 




Dinner party after the reception. That is Ron Haak in the center foreground; at one table back can be seen Squeak Carnwath, Lewis deSoto and Chandra, part of Judy's (Chandra's mom) head, Gary Knecht, Tenzin Tethong, part of my head (I'm next to Squeak), part of Gabriella Morawetz's head, and the back of Pancho's head.

Back table has Anna, the Nobel curator, Filippo di Sambuy, Hijin and David Hodge, Katarina Wong, Filippo's daughter and wife, Patrizia, and Dani, Katarina's sister. Not in that order.  Darlene is standing to the right of the photo.

The front table, besides Ron, has Anca Mihulet, the Romanian curator (not shown), Karin, the Nobel curator (not shown), Sebastian, Anca's boyfriend, shown very fuzzily, and some Nobel people I didn't meet.

Love,

Era and Don

Dear all,

We never planned to go to the Frankfurt International Book Fair. It just happened that way. We were flying in and out of Frankfurt on Singapore Air (which is a great flight, by the way). While trying to book accommodations, I noticed that hotels were very expensive and almost completely sold out. I finally managed to find a hotel in Offenbach, a nearby suburb of Frankfurt. What was going on? We were flying in during the Frankfurt International Book Fair. We knew this fair was a big deal, but we had no idea. It draws almost 300,000 people, including over 12,000 accredited journalists. There has been a book fair in Frankfurt for over 500 years. The vast grounds of the fair stretches over 2 subway stops and contains about 9 mammoth convention-type buildings.

Hey, we're publishing some books, admittedly limited edition artist books with edition sizes of about 20 or so. Let's check out the book fair. Later, when I had to change our trip around, we were locked into the expensive hotel in Offenbach, so it was book fair, here we come. Found out the hotels triple and quadruple their rates during the book fair.


Our hotel turned out to be an impressive building, a former factory, beautifully remodelled. When I asked the man at the front desk what type of factory it used to be, he replied "A Slaughterhouse."


Frankfurt public transportation is impressive. Took the subway from Offenbach directly to the book fair, and I do mean directly. The subway exit and escalators went directly to the book fair entrance.

Many vendors have their booths set up as little cafes, where one can sit and have some refreshments, gratis. We didn't take advantage of this too often, feeling a bit too much like outsiders. This fair draws folks from all over the book world, making connections, wheeling and dealing, signing contracts.


One booth on a floor of probably 500 booths, no exaggeration, in a building of 5 floors, which was one of 9 or 10 buildings. The catalog for the fair was 3 inches thick with listings of the different vendors. It's book city.

Both Peter Koch and John Yau gave us names of friends to look up at the book fair. We were only able to find one of about 8 of them, and he, Despalles, was so busy that we didn't even greet him. The fair goes on for 5 days. One day was more than enough for us. 5 days must be exhausting.



By far most of the vendors handled new publications, but this is an example of one of the antiquarian books also for sale at the book fair.

That evening, following a recommendation from Jim Clendenen of Au Bon Climat Winery, who we met at the aforementioned BayWolf Double Duck dinner, we dined at Goldman's, a restaurant located on the outskirts of Frankfurt, towards Offenbach. Very good food and wine.

Stuffed and rolled pheasant at Goldman's Restaurant, Frankfurt, Germany. A number of book fair people eating there.
Intolerance Strikes Again!

With the US State Department issuing warnings about threats to Americans traveling in Europe from Islamic religious extremists, back home on our own soil we are experiencing attacks on our first amendment rights and violence by American religious extremists. Most of you have probably heard about the destruction of Enrique Chagoya's piece while on display at a museum in Loveland, Colorado. We copy below a letter from Enrique:

Dear Friends,

Sadly, today in the afternoon a woman armed with a crowbar attacked my book "The Misadventures of the romantic Cannibals" at the Loveland Art Museum, in Loveland, Colorado, and apparently broke the plexiglas box, took the book and tore it to pieces. Luckily the book is a multiple hand made lithograph and although there are only limited copies of the book it can be replaced by an equal print. The book is included in a group exhibition with the prints published by Shark's Ink (see sharksink.com)

I am worry that our first amendment rights are also attacked by the same crowbar. I am in shock, and fear for the personal security of the museum's staff, publisher, and myself since this has been an orchestrated attack by a national religious organization with fanatics everywhere.

There was a great article from this morning (Wednesday October 6) at the Huffington Post by Leanne Goebel that was the most balanced piece done so far. The rest of the media (with few other exceptions like A.P. which also has been balanced) has been demonizing the piece with complete fabrications and false descriptions. Just google it to read more about it (my name and Loveland) and check the Huffington Post article by Goebel. There is already some late news about the vandalizing, and by Thursday there will be more about it. As I said to the press, my book is a critique to institutional and spiritual corruption in religious organizations and not an attack on anybody's beliefs and opinions which I respect, and I been keeping my hope that people will respect mine (but clearly it has not been the case).

I don't take our rights for granted, and I will keep exercising my freedom of speech right by replacing the work with a similar copy in the show in spite of all this extreme reactions (and I hope the museum agrees).

Thank you all for your supportive e-mails. They are a relief in the middle of all the hate/racist e-mail I keep getting. Luckily I also got much support from artists, art professionals, and even a Pastor in Loveland who agrees with my explanation of my work who is inviting me to do a painting for his Church. There is hope.

Enrique

And an excerpt from the George Adams Gallery in NYC:

According to Loveland Cultural Services director Susan Ison, the museum is being inundated with negative emails protesting the display of Enrique’s work. “The people who support the exhibition and support the museum are the ones who aren’t very vocal. It might be a call to attention for them.”

Please take a moment and send an email isons@ci.loveland.co.us to voice your support.

George Adams

A STATEMENT BY ENRIQUE CHAGOYA ON THE DESTRUCTION OF HIS CODEX PROVIDED TO FOX NEWS ON OCTOBER 7, 2010

I feel sad that our First Amendment right was also attacked by the crowbar that destroyed my book. Should we as artists, or any free-thinking people, have to be subjected to fear of violent attacks for expressing our sincere concerns? I made a collage with a comic book and an illustration of a religious icon to express the corruption of something precious and spiritual. There is no nudity, or genitals, or explicit sexual contact shown in the image. There is a dressed woman, a religious icon's head, a man showing his tongue, and a skull of a Pope in the upper right corner of the controversial page. I did not make a picture of Christ. I used symbols as one would use words in a sentence to critique corruption of the sacred by religious institutions.

Institutions need to be criticized when they get corrupted. If people don't like my way of saying it, it is their right, just as it is my right, to express that. Violence is the opposite of what Jesus, Mohammed or Buddha taught. I am amazed that some of the followers don't adhere to the teachings. Agree to disagree and love thy neighbor. Only totalitarian societies are ruled by extreme rules. Do we want to live as if under Stalin or Hitler who censored not only the arts but all levels of thinking? This is America, but I don't take my rights for granted. I know they can easily be taken away by hate and extremism. Lets exchange ideas not insults, or labels. We all want this world to be a better place to live in, not a place where we live in fear of angry disagreements that will take us nowhere.

If you feel strongly about this, as we do, consider sending an email of support to Susan Ison, the Loveland Cultural Services director (see above).

Thank you,

Era and Don

Dear all,

Awoke to what sounded like heavy chains being dragged up an endless flight of stone stairs - maybe the Duomo? It turned out to be some of those food and souvenir carts rattling their way across the stone-paved passageway in front of our building.

Don approached me a touch sheepishly (for Don) and said he realized that now we had to climb up the Campanile (Bell tower) so he could get some good shots of the Duomo from a higher level. So that's how we started out our day. It's not as high as the Duomo.


I find myself being very selective in Florence. It's just not like it was in the 'sixties when there were very few tourists, when almost none of the Italians spoke English, when you looked around the beautiful streets and piazzas and almost everyone was Italian, and stylishly turned out. When the signs and marquees were tasteful and discreet, designed only to instruct Italians. As our friend Inez describes: The men come there like beautiful peacocks with their coats over their shoulders...such prima gorgeous donnas! She may (I don't know) have been describing a more recent Florence, but it conjures up Florence of the 'sixties to me. However, also in the 'sixties, you rarely saw young women on the streets, and then only holding the hand of their mother or an aunt who had joined the nunnery. The men were so starved for female companionship that they would follow us down the streets in a small horde, which actually became very annoying after the initial flattery wore off in about 10 minutes, maybe 5. Actually, Florence was not as bad as Rome that way. Now there are so many young Americans doing their study abroad and tourists that English is heard as often as Italian. It is a wonderful experience for these young people, though. I think it is great and life changing; I just wish there weren't quite so many of them.

Of course, I'm one of them (one of the tourists, not one of the young people), and I'm happy to be here. But I do view Florence through a selective filter; I do my best to screen out those tourists, to recapture the past, which I think is rather a dangerous activity. It's probably one of the first steps to growing old, so I don't do it in general; only in Florence because I loved it so much, when I was 17. In fact, I avoided returning here for many years because I didn't think I could bear to see the changes. But it's not so bad; it's still beautiful, it's still worth visiting. However, it is a little like seeing your once very stylish and glamorous aunt, become a little tawdry, even though she still tries to follow the fashions. She appears at a function with her garishly colored lipstick and black eyeliner applied crookedly, a few soup spots on her clothing. You still love her, of course, but you feel a little sad. (Of course, this is probably how people have been feeling about Florence and other great cities for centuries.)

Speaking of visiting Florence, we were amazed at how many of our friends and family have actually lived here. People have been writing in with all sorts of suggestions, many of which we were not able to follow, although they sounded amazing. So we thought we would compile them here for those who are lucky enough to come to Florence in the future.


ou have to cross the Arno to get to some of the recommendations (Osteria del Cinghale Bianco and La Specola).

So pretty much in order of receipt, dinner suggestions from Brian Caraway (long-time Magnolia employee who spent a semester here). He even includes web sites.

Trattoria ZaZa

right on the piazza del marcato centrale (plaza of san loranzo market)
inside the market, there is a duck ragu that is simply to die for. once you enter the market go to the back left corner on the bottom floor. along that aisle, on the right hand side, just before you would have to turn right, at the back. try that and a plate of the pepe al pomodoro. possibly the best lunch (and least expensive) you'll have while you are there (oh yeah, only open for lunch).

on via santo spirito: il Cantinone enoteca and restaurant
and borgo san jacopo: Osteria del Cingale Bianco

hope this finds you well.
can't wait to hear some more stories.
bacci e abbracci

We did go to Osteria del Cinghale Bianco. Very, very good. We are not big meat eaters, but we did split a Tuscan steak there with porcini mushroom risotto, grilled vegetables, and the Florentine crostini (chicken liver pate on toast) - all related to you in reverse order. The proprietors are very warm and welcoming.

Trattoria Za Za is outside the central covered market (plaza of san loranzo market), which we did not have time to try, but the people eating there looked very happy.

We did go into the central market and tried the duck ragu, or some sort of ragu they were serving. Brian's right; it was fabulous. The pepe al pomodoro I thought was less fabulous, but still good and much lighter, so it was great to split these. The stall and seating area is a mad house. Very popular and chaotic.

Both Inez Storer and Squeak Carnwath recommended the museum La Specola, which is a fascinating place, but not for the weak of stomach. A huge number of stuffed animals and then the most amazing wax figures of dissected human bodies (mostly young and lovely women). I read that Goethe went to see these when he traveled to Italy and that they were a favorite of the Marquis de Sade (not surprising).

Sorry, we did not get any photos of the dissected women. We were edging towards nausea and there was a lot of reflection on the glass cases. I did get a snap of the veins of a leg, which was pretty interesting, but I will spare you. Also the lymphatic system was quite fascinating. Have no idea if it is accurate.


This artist, whose name I unfortunately do not recall, lived through one of the horrible Florentine plagues. There were several of these pieces, wax miniatures, which give you a sense of what it must have been like to live during the plagues, minus the smells and the terror, of course. We spent a morning at La Specola, and fortunately were still able to enjoy our lunch at Osteria del Cinghale Bianco.

Inez also recommended we go to an old apothecary near Santa Maria Novella. In fact, it was the official pharmacy of the Santa Maria Novella church and convent back in the days:

Hi You Two: Duomo looks splendid and did you notice that the tall wing or appendage or very narrow building on left is leaning to the left? You MUST fix it and report it to the CHURCH! Just for sheer indulgence if you can, wander over to the Santa Maria Novella (by railway station) and go to the grand old pharmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella on Via della Scala, 16. You will see the most beautiful light and old apothecaries in the room to the right. Be sure and get the astringent lotion...it takes years off your lives. You can send it or get a plastic bottle and decant it. And the box of soap is the most beautiful of boxes.

After arriving, I realized that I had been there, probably 40 years ago. It is a truly gorgeous place. We inquired about the astringent lotion, as we were fairly sure Inez meant that it took years off our appearance, and not off our lives. We had to chuckle when they explained to us that they no longer carry it and this was a lotion for adolescents, to prevent pimples.


The apothecary near Santa Maria Novella.





Is this Morocco, or perhaps Turkey? No, it's part of Santa Maria Novella. Someone returning from the Crusades must have had a hand in this.


From David Linger, a former intern at Magnolia, who was helping us with a ceramic project:

Since you are nearby, go to Robiglio, my favorite, old pastry shop on Via dei Servi - which is near Piazza della Santissima Annunziata, where Ospedale degli Innocenti is. The piazza has significant, early Renaissance buildings faced with gorgeous 15th Century plaques by della Robbia - who was my first hero in ceramics.
I was going to tell you to see the science museum, but you found it on your own. It's one of my favorites, and never has anybody in it.

We did go to Piazza della Santissima Annunziata, a handsome plaza, and we got biscotti at Robiglio.


From Anthony Holdsworth, who has lived in Florence, and fearlessly returns with groups of plein air painters and his wife and fellow painter Beryl, every year or so:

Era,
I'm enjoying your blogs. Thanks!
While you're in Florence you might want to check out my video of my recent trip there:  www.anthonyholdworth.com   And for something really different take the bus to I Gigli where the Florentines do all their serious shopping. It'll blow your mind and you will discover much better prices. It's a twenty minute ride into the periferia west of the city. There's a special bus that you pick up on Via Nazionale (to your right as you face the Santa Maria train station) just before via Fiume. You buy tickets in the office on the corner. The correct bus will be posted 'I Gigli'

Also Anthony and Roxane Schlumberger recommended Piazza Santo Spirito (across the Arno), which we somehow always forget to visit. It sounds great, but unfortunately the email came too late for us to fit it in. (We're not actually still in Florence, left 2 days ago)

Even if you don't visit I Gigli, do visit Piazza Santo Spirito some evening and have a glass of wine at the Pop Caffe this is where young Florentines hang out. For the price of a class of wine or beer you get all the food you can eat (though you'll need many tiny platefuls). Lunchtime this cafe offers delicious light lunches. Its a great antidote to the tourist saturated culture.
Ciao,
Anthony

Love from

Era and Aldo

Dear friends and family,

Let's see, yesterday (Saturday) we changed apartments. This apartment changing is the result of making such last minute changes to the trip, but the new apartment might be even better than the last. Both were great, but this one has internet! It's also between the Palazzo Vecchio and Via de Tornabuoni, actually not far from the Ponte Vecchio. I took some photos of this apartment before we flung our stuff all over and messed it up.


Apartment #2 has a washer and dryer. Apartment #1 only had a washer; one reason the apartment looked so messy (with clothes hanging up to dry).

We went to a farmer's market Saturday morning, or more like a specialty produce fair. Got an absolutely delicious truffle spread, seriously addictive. Also some nice bottles of wine and cheese. There is a wine show going on in Florence this weekend, tastings in different museums and other venues. It would have been very tempting, but we already had these lovely bottles we simply must drink.

It was a lovely day so we decided to climb to the top of the Duomo, something I can't remember ever doing, although it is possible I may have done it when I was 17 and touring with Deborah Hoffman (then Mann) and Erica Lennard. Maybe they can remember. We walked by several ambulances parked in the piazza. There are many, many steps; overweight tourists must pass out all the time.





































Here is a fabulous composite photo which Don took and then auto-pano'ed of the views we had when we would come out of our little narrow steep and close stone stairway for a more expansive view and breath of fresher air.


The stone stairs climbing between the famous 2 dome construction, an engineering feat devised by Brunelleschi which made this huge dome possible. Finally, panting and gasping, we made it to the top.


You'd probably look a little hesitant also if you climbed to the top of the Duomo and had a visitation from Johnny Cash. Would he just pose nicely, or would he try to carry you away, and perhaps not be able to hang on to you, regrettably dropping you on the beautiful city of Florence? I'm reading The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie, the perfect book to read while visiting Florence or Northern India. However, it is perhaps making me a bit fanciful.  (In criticism of my blog, Aldo points out that he doesn't see the resemblance: He doesn't have a guitar, he doesn't have a black cowboy hat, he's only wearing half black, and he doesn't have a craggy face, but his hair is sweaty from climbing almost 500 rather high steps.)


View from the top. 13 photographs stitched together. The full-size has incredible detail.

Love from

Era and Aldo