I have been back in the USA for a few weeks, but this blog has left too much about Italy ignored and unmentioned. So here are a few details to sew up the saga of my spring sojourn.

My last full day in Italy (in other words, Saturday, 10 March) was devoted to filling in some of the gaps of my Florentine foray.

I had mentioned earlier that one of the oldest buildings in the city is the St. John's Baptistry, which stands directly in front of the Duomo. To modern eyes, the Baptistry seems overly large in scale, but nonetheless it is a beautiful, octagonal structure that has dominated this space for almost a thousand years. (The only things that have dominated North American spaces for a millennium were either deposited by glaciers or grew from seed. Therefore any human structure with such longevity would likely impress me.)

The Baptistry's interior, ironically, is far grander than the Cathedral's. An ornate gold mosaic covers its ceiling and depicts in (often gruesome) medieval images the story Jesus' last judgment. Dante grew up and (until exiled by the Medici) lived much of his life a few blocks away. It is easy to speculate that these mosaics, which were completed during his lifetime, affected his Divine Comedy trilogy, particularly Inferno.

Walking a few blocks in the opposite direction brings you to the Basilica of San Lorenzo. This was the Medici family church, and attached to it are the Medici Chapels, which are essentially extravagant tombs. (They would not allow photography, but the links may help you understand the way things appear.)

Now, parts of these large chapels (particularly the Chapel of the Princes) are ludicrously lavish and worth seeing just for the polychromatic spectacle. (Click here to see a mere portion of the interior.) For all its grandeur, a closer examination shows that the Chapel of the Princes has been left unfinished. And as family tombs, instead of communicating the great power of the Medici, it rather pathetically serves as a symbol of their great hubris.

But it should be noted that this multi-hued marble mausoleum is primarily dedicated to the later (and lesser) Medici rulers. The visit to the Medici Chapels carries you back in time, where a much earlier, smaller chapel, the New Sacristy, was designed and executed by Michelangelo. Here three of the earlier Medici (including Lorenzo the Magnificent) are entombed. This is a more sedate yet profound space ... and yet also unfinished.

What you find in Florence is that much of Michelangelo's work was abandoned, frequently because he was called away to do something else (like paint the Sistine Chapel in Rome ... twice!). Perhaps the hallmark of a Renaissance Man was an overly full Day-Planner. In the New Sacristy, Michelangelo has nearly completed several statues, including polishing portions of their marble to near glass-like smoothness. However, these same stone bodies retain elsewhere the chisel marks that show the master's handiwork in progress. We're left wondering how he would have next shaped the piece, had he been granted the time.

The basilica's facade has also been left in the rough, belying its lovely, artistically endowed interior.

Adjacent to San Lorenzo is an enormous market where outdoor vendors hawk souvenirs to tourists and indoor stalls sell succulent victuals to Florence's more permanent residents. I considered ordering the local delicacy, a tripe sandwich, for lunch, but the line was far too long to endure for a chancy meal. Nonetheless, the bustling bazaar was fun to explore.

During the afternoon, I made my way again across the Arno to take in some of the best views of Florence ... from Piazzele Michelangelo and the San Miniato Church. The steepish walk up the hill carries you past several gardens, and once you reach the top, you are greeted by yet another copy of Michelangelo's David (this one in bronze) ... and a delightful outdoor gelato stand.

Gelato is pervasive around Florence. For less than 2€ you can grab a small cup or cone to satiate your mid-afternoon hunger while enjoying all sorts architectural, horticultural, and human sights.

From here, historic Florence stretches out before you. And nearby is the Church of San Miniato al Monte, a near-ancient structure where Benedictines have worshiped for a millennium. Europe is replete with tales of Christian martyrs who, after decapitation, stood up, picked up their dispatched noggins, and cradling their heads in their arms, wandered off in search of a place for their followers to build a church. San Miniato (Saint Minias) carries, along with his head, the Tuscan version of this legend. His piecemeal remains are tucked away in the crypt of this fully medieval church ... a dark, shadowy, and in some ways foreboding chamber.

Until, that is, you happen to find the coin box where, for the price of a euro, you can get 10 minutes of electric lights to brighten the altar and bring a shine to the mosaics.

The cemetery surrounding San Miniato is worth a visit on its own. Florentines have been buried here for only a couple of centuries (indeed, many are still deposited here after death). The graves, therefore, are not so ancient as those in the historic district. However, many of these final resting places are elaborately festooned, and space limitations have resulted in a crowded cacophony of crypts.

As the sun set, I wandered back into Florence for my last evening, which I spent enjoying a dinner of ravioli with wild boar sauce and packing up before turning in early. (My bus for the airport left at 5:30 AM.)

I hope that you have, in turn, enjoyed the blog and this final wrap up. Send me feedback to help me fine-tune the stories. And stay tuned ... I have already purchased tickets for an autumn trip ... there is plenty of world left to see.

Blog to you later!