Always A Tourist

Last morning in Florence. The Uffizi then the train to Salerno.

We wandered, as usual, arriving at the Uffizi just in time for our assigned entry. Second visit for me, first for Pa. Same rules as before - we’d devote most of our attention to what attracted him. Fair enough. I can return someday. It’s likely he won’t have the opportunity. Needing a host, it might be difficult for someone else to tolerate Pa’s idiosyncrasies as I do. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy Pa’s company, but the elderly tend to be set in their ways. I’m sure others will say the same about me soon enough. They may already.

Back to the Uffizi. Incredible! Not enough time, or stamina. I won’t bother the reader with endless photos. Nothing compares with being there. An online visit a close second: https://www.uffizi.it/en/the-uffizi

I do want to share, however, what was of particular interest to Pa.

No surprise. Though we reminisce about the days of our youth, often with a sense of loss, we most identify with those like us.

I, on the other hand, am not quite there yet, or so I say. My preference is the narratives, those that tell a story.

And those, though few, that celebrate the strength of women.

Of course the classics will forever be classic.

And timeless, as well, renderings of those who challenged the powerful and lost.

Then there was this guy, so much the young Italian male posing for his girlfriend.

Back on the street,

we were again reminded that, when in Florence, one is always a tourist.