I knew I would return to Florence one day as I had rubbed the wild boar’s nose in the market place back in 1995.

Then I was studying 16^th C Italian Art, and I had essays to write about Brunelleschi, Donatello and Masaccio.  Who was most influential? Who contributed most? Was it the giant roof on the Duomo? Was it the incredible perspective techniques being introduced, or the sculptures in bronze? After my final exam, I rang my tutor for reassurance only to find she had died in the night. A few days later I sat in the crematorium and listened to the most amazing service in honour of Kitty, whose talents had spread across the world, whose funeral had drawn students and people from all walks, and I thought of what she might have answered. I imagine she might have said that all three had had their voice, their talent and had left their mark.

Here is Massaccio’s wonderful study of the Trinity in Santa Maria Novello. Note the perspective, it is a mural on the left hand side of the church below.

So John and I arrived in Florence and walked along the Arno, a very placid river, but when it gets mean it gets VERY mean. And that night after dinner the thunder roared and the lightening was like a welder’s torch right in our eyes as we scurried back with our Amsterdam umbrella, as the storm decided to swoosh us away in torrents.

The next morning the sun shone, and all was calm.

We wandered down along the river to the Ponte Vecchio, and suddenly our eye was drawn to modern flippant fun art. Just off the main walk way, these sculptures swung their way up like acrobats and for a moment it was just fun to look and smile.

The smile soon left our faces as we were stung for the most expensive coffees of the whole trip in Piazzo della Signoria. We thought it would be fun to view the reproduction of the mighty David and see the Rape of the Sabine Women in the comfort of a nice ring-side seat. Hmmm. We later learnt that the best coffees were the ones taken standing by the bar and cost 1 euro!

So much to see, of course we found ourselves in front of the mighty Duomo that towers up and dominates everything,

but I spent a few minutes rediscovering the Baptistry doors, designed by Ghiberti, which depict in gilded bronze the stories of Jesus and also of those of the old testament.

I stood also for a while in front of the niches in Orsanmichele, bearing statues representing the patron saints of Florence’s many guilds.

We saw the murals by Fra’ Angelico in San Marco,

and then visited San Lorenzo. Poor saint was grilled by the emperor Valerian, who was determined to kill all the Christians. Lorenzo was told he would be spared if he would give over the wealth of the church. Lorenzo agreed, and went away promising that he would return. He did, and he returned next day with the poor and maim of Rome. He told the emperor that this was the church’s wealth and it increases every year. Needless to say the grill was waiting.

We cruised down the street full of leather sellers, until we came to the Central Market. Oh my, it was profuse with colour, smells, and noise. Upstairs we found an amazing array of stalls producing fast, instant food – spaghetti, noodles, sea food and drinks, almost anything you wanted. We chose pasta and a beer, and it was so utterly delicious, and so cheap! (a good thing!)

We did visit the Academia, guided by Antonio who was totally in love with Michelangelo and Gallileo. He said his ideal place to be is in Santa Croce, where both geniuses are buried. He can stand between them, and he is in heaven! He brought life to the tour, life to the sculptures, and somehow we looked at the slaves clambering out of the marble as though they really might spring forth. He told us nothing had changed since the days of The Grand Tour, and we were seeing the same configurations that Byron and Oscar Wilde would have seen. In those days the Academia might have had about 60 visitors a year!

Natasha later sent this photo of Leo…a dead ringer for the mighty David!

We had lunch in a restaurant with a replica of Fra Angelico’s Annunciation,

which we had seen the day before, and it seemed so perfect, eating spaghetti and drinking chianti and the melodious voice of Antonio still in our ears. ‘Dante, Filippo Lippi, Piero della Francesca, Ghirlandaio, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello…’

And on to the Uffizi. We were zipped through, and heard the stories, saw the pictures, but Grethe was not as inspiring as Antonio, but still she enthused over Botticelli and Caravaggio and da Vinci’s Annunciation.

I was studying a painting in the second to last room when John called me, ‘Come, and see this.’ I was quite impatient, and went back to listening to the commentary, but he persisted, ‘Come, quick!’

I went to see what all the fuss was about.

In the next room, on a red plinth, was a baby. Sitting up and looking about, totally bemused by the people watching her.

I looked. And suddenly realised it was MY baby! It was Bonnie!

Natasha and Leo were sitting on the side of the room. I was just speechless and quite emotional. They had arrived in Florence earlier than expected and knew we were going on the Uffizi tour, so had hoped we would bump into each other. Bonnie needed a break from being held, and so they had put her down for a few minutes and by sheer chance we were in the next room. How amazing was that! Here she is smiling at some passing fans as enthralled as we were to be in a few minutes!

We went to eat, and for me, after that, I couldn’t have cared about any more churches or art! I much preferred watching Bonnie trying to entice Natasha to share her crust!

Florence had been wonderful, but now it was time to get the bus to San Gimignano where we were all going to stay to celebrate my birthday. And the sun shone, and John and I caught the bus and we were off again!