When visiting a foreign country, it is thrilling to see the monuments of past glory days. Architectural feats executed so many hundreds of years ago are a marvel to behold. But what tugs at your heart is the people themselves. And so it will always be when I remember Pisa. We chose to stay at the closest port to the town of Pisa. Pisa is slightly inland, but there is a river from the ocean that goes a couple of miles from the town. It is a bit of a challenge. Very shallow, in some places just a couple of meters deep. The other challenge is the fishing nets. The Italians strung high cables across the river. They then have huge fishing nets on a frame that look a little like upside down umbrella’s. The nets slide along the cable and drop in the river to catch the fish. The trouble is, the cables almost caught my mast as well. When we passed under the first set of cables, it was inches away from my VHF antenna. There is not really any organized harbor on the river. It is more like rambling docks owned by a dozen different people. All of them looked completely full. But luck would have it, we found just one space and pulled in. It was lunchtime and we decided to make a quick meal of baguettes, cheese and chicken. While we were eating, a local guy came up to us. He didn’t speak much English, but he did better with Spanish. So we had Rebecca talk to him. It turns out he spent a couple of years in Brazil and spoke Portuguese. Close enough. He told us, that the spot was not vacant. The owner was just out sailing and would be back in an hour or so. Seems like our luck was a bit short. But then this guy started making calls to all of these marinas up and down the river. Then he told Rebecca and me to get in his car and we could go talk to a few of the owners. He drove us to several marinas, but no luck. We thought we might have to just anchor out in the river and were resigned to do just that. Then his friend called and told us we could stay up the river a bit further. So the guy tells us he will go with us on our boat and help us negotiate the deepest part of the river. As it turned out, the water lever, while very shallow was not the problem. There were two more sets of cables across the river. Going up further, they just got lower. We nudged up next to them hoping it would not hit my wind gauges. The mast cleared them by literally inches. The VHF antenna bent back as we tenderly passed beneath. He showed us the marina and the empty spot. It looked like we were home free. Then the trouble began. As I passed by one of the docked sailboats, my propeller caught his slime line and wrapped up tight enough to cut the engine. Because the river was so shallow, the lines were just below the water surface even at quite a distance from the boats. Not only was I caught, but also I didn’t have much control as we slowly slid toward the docked boats, their anchors at the bow of the boats looking like angry teeth ready to rip the side of my hull. The Italians sprang into action, going to the bows of the boats and making sure my boat was pushed off, avoiding any damage to the boat. We managed to get a line on the left side of my boat, but the other side was still tangled. I ended up getting a mask and flippers on and going down to try and release it from the prop. It was very tightly wrapped around. So the owner of the marina gave me his knife and I cut the rope free. Once it was cut, with a little effort, I managed to free it. The four guys that were on the dock all helped to secure the boat. I was relieved that everything worked out ok, but also overwhelmed with the kindness of these strangers. I think there is nothing more charitable then helping a complete stranger. It shows a side of humanity that we sometimes are not sure is still there. The guy that drove us all over just to help us find a spot, and these other guys that were willing to do what ever they could to save us from a very difficult situation. When we were ready to leave, I gave the owner of the marina a pie that we picked up in Pisa, and in simple English and broken Italian, thanked him and his friends for helping us. Just as we were shoving off, he came out with a bottle of wine to wish us well on our journey. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we don’t drink wine, but thanked him graciously and was again overcome with a grateful heart. It was worth more than all the monuments and cathedrals we saw during our stay there. No matter how grand a cathedral is, the outreach of love is always more grand. Grazie.
Oh yeah, Pisa and Florence.
For the most part Pisa is just a big city where people make a living and enjoy life. But hidden amongst all the hustle and bustle of the city is this little oasis that is so beautifully designed it takes your breath away. The infamous leaning tower, the grand baptistery and an even more monumental church anchor a grand plaza making it one of the most beautiful spots we have visited. And wow is that tower leaning. It looks like it is defying the laws of gravity. It started to lean even before it was completed in 1372. The architects tried to balance out the lean but with no avail. Not only does the tower lean, but the baptistery and church also lean. I guess this was just not the best place to build. Different attempts have been tried to stop the leaning. For a while big cables attached to 600 tons of lead weights buried in the ground were used, but it continued to get progressively worse. A couple of years ago, they ended up taking out some of the dirt from the high side and have managed to stabilize the structure for the time being.
Pisa is mostly a university town, and has been since the time of Galileo. Lots of marauding scooters and bikes barreling down the busy narrow streets. And lots of hot guys running around in shorts and tee shirts. Great shopping and great people watching. There is something about Italian guys. A confidence that comes from within that is very sexy.
The next morning, we caught an early train and headed to Florence, which is about an hour and a half away. Florence can only be described in terms of magnificent, astounding, monumental, and impressive. Buildings with intricate designs adorned with grand sculpture are everywhere. And at the center of it all is Michelangelo’s masterpiece, David. And I have to say, David is quite the stud. Chizeled the way only a gay artist like Michelanglo could cut him. He managed to sculped out perfect abs, an ass that every top would drool over and nice bicepts. Yeah you gotta love this piece of stone. We went to the Uffizi gallery, which houses the greatest collection of Italian paintings anywhere in the world. Giotto, DaVinci, Raphael, Rubens, Titian and Michelangelo are all there. In fact it holds the only surviving easel painting Michelangelo ever did. There are also a slew of sculptures up and down the halls. The whole town has a lot of homoerotic pieces. Big muscular guys being attended to by young boys worshiping the bulging muscles. Centars wrestling with perfectly formed athletes. It must have been something else going to the gym back then. You begin to think that all the guys back then were chisled to perfection. The wait to get into the museum is long, and the collection massive, but all well worth making your way to this art Mecca. I felt like I was walking through the pages of my art history books hand in hand with these sculpted gods.
The other not to be missed museum is Accademia, which houses the infamous David. Besides this masterpiece are a room full of works Michelangelo did in his later years. They are a series of sculptures that are still immerging from the stone. The part that is immerged is very finished and very beautiful, while the rest of the form is still waiting to be released. I find these very exciting pieces. I personally think by not completely finishing the piece you get a sense that Michelangelo was not so much sculpting as he was releasing the figure that was trapped in the block of marble. If you love art, Florence is its birthplace. If you love sculptures of lots of naked hunks, this is the place for you.
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