FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL

Museo Archeologico Etrusco open Thu-Tue. Adm charge A San Michele Piazza SS. Francesco e Michele 1, Carmignano. Open daily. i Detail from The Deposition (1521) by Rosso Fiorentino m Pinacoteca e Museo Civico Via dei Sarti 1. Q (0588) 875 80. Open daily. Adm charge Volterra’s excellent art gallery is situated in the 15th-century Palazzo Minucci-Solaini. The best works are by Florentine artists.

FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL Photo Gallery




FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL

FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL

FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL

FLORENCE RAIL TRAVEL

With the rage of all nations; of the 14-year-old whores in Haiti, shouting up to the sailors from their little boats, begging to come onboard, selling themselves for bars of soap; of the spray of glass as a drink-crazed German broke a bottle on the table edge and lunged for my eye; of all the sinners, pimps, perverts, sadists, bullies, liars, thieves, junkies, crooks, rapists, pushers, killers, soldiers of the world – scum of the earth and black-hearted bastards everywhere; of the times I felt so lost and alone in a world with no pity that I just wanted to crawl away into some warm and dark place and pull a curtain around me; and of the times I met people so good they diminished me and made me want to weep – men from fine homes who chose to toil in the slums, mothers who crept away to sell themselves at night so their children could have a better life, missionaries who were spat on yet went back for more, the padre in the seaman’s home who every week would give his last dollar to someone, men I sailed with who would come back for me whatever happened Of people who would never let me down; of all the good men – the saints, the loyal, the brave, the worthy, the committed, the toilers, those who encouraged, those who never mocked, the sharers, the first in, the last out, those with a level gaze, all those who made me feel good about myself. But I could not speak of those things. It was all my life – both parts: the life I told my father about and the life I clutched to myself. They were both sides of the same prism; one fit for the telling, one to refract the colours back to me alone. One day I would be my father and then I would only see the sights I wanted to see and hear the things I wanted to hear too.

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