A Trip to the Walled City of Lucca

Lucca is about two hours by train from Florence.  Once the train arrived we had to walk across the street and immediately saw what the fuss was all about in the guidebooks.

The walls, built in the Renaissance, were quite imposing and much higher than it looks in this picture.  There were a several flights of stairs through tunnel-like structure to get to the top and, once there, several more to get down.  But once on top of the wall you could walk around the inner-city below.  

Of course like everywhere else we've been, graffiti has been very much in evidence.  Tagging seems to be a major sport in Northern Italy.

Once over the walls we found the city square.  Lots of restaurants and lots of shops.  While Lucca was cheaper than Florence, we suspect it's being "discovered" because some of the pricier stores have made there way there.

The architecture of Lucca seemed ornate and often  in disrepair.  The city must have recently decided to do some revitalization and there was scaffolding all over town.  Below was a four story church that had columns all decorated differently.  Some were different colors of marble, some carved, some cast.

Inside the churches were often dark and you had to pay to turn on lights.  The lights were focused on paintings.  One by Tintoretto was of the Last Supper.  There was a table in the middle of the painting with Jesus at the top end of the table and no one at the bottom end.  When the observer was on the left of the painting the table looked as if it faced the observer.  When the observer went to the right the table seemed to be coming out to the right facing the observer again.  I overheard the guide say that the message of the painting was that all were welcomed at the Lord's table.

While no pictures were allowed of the paintings or the ornate ceiling of this newly renovated church, we did get one of the floor.  The floor was a composite of various designs....sort of a quilter's treasure of geometrics.  No one ever seems to notice church floors.  There are certainly no post cards of them.  Yet they are incredibly intricate and beautiful.

The town square was full of restaurants, gelaterias, and a few merchants selling their wares.

Lucca is the birthplace of Puccini.  There are concerts in the Puccini Museum every night about 7:30.  That would have gotten us back to Florence rather late, so we didn't stay.

Unfortunately on our way back on the train an elderly man decided that Ken was my son and he was captivated by Ken's "beautiful Mama" (and only woman in the car at that time) and attempted to grope me.  Poor Ken was looking out the window and didn't realize what was going on until he heard me shout a very loud "NO!!"  Ken has offered to dye his hair gray.  I guess that's the price of living with "The Boy Wonder.