Piazza dei Miracoli aka Leaning Tower of Pisa

The Trip

After three days of rain and being shut in the apartment because of miserable head colds, we awake to sunshine. It is a gift. Nibbling on breakfast pastry and sipping strong black coffee we agree to seize the day and head for Pisa to finally see Piazza dei Miracoli. Time that seemed to spread like an eternity before us when we arrived four weeks ago shrinks too fast. Michael tells me we have one hour and twenty minutes before the train departs from Lucca for Pisa.

We arrive at the station with ten minutes to spare. We are getting better at finding our way around Italy on Trenitalia, standing on the correct binario, but still I worry. Before boarding the train, I seek out the conductor and ask, “Pisa?”

There is snow on the mountains.  Against the clear blue sky, the scene is clean, fresh, and pure.

We have delayed visiting Pisa because it was so close. Only 30 minutes by car, bus, or train, getting there was taken for granted.  We exit the tiny railway stop and head east.

Today we are not lost. The large dome in Piazza dei Miracoli, jutting above the surrounding buildings is our guide.  I look left as we follow the crowds. 

A Taste of Home

“Michael, there is a McDonald’s!” 

It is noon and we take a tiny detour.  Sitting in the sunshine we savor the familiar tastes of home. Weirdly, I think that the burgers here are better than at home. The buns fresher. Lettuce and tomatoes are more abundant.  The whole thing juicer.  The fries — they are the same.  Crisp, thin, salty.

The Miracle

Nothing prepares me for the way I feel as we enter the ancient city gate and step foot in Piazza dei Miracoli.  It takes my breath away.  The colors — intense.  Grass so green. Skies so blue. Clouds, so white. Marble, so pure. Terra cotta roof, so perfectly mellowed. The vista sweeping. The buildings, immense.  No picture can capture the reality of what I see.

The Baptistry, our guiding dome, is a splendor. Immense and circular, it is a vessel of flawless sound. The guard on duty walks to the center and sings three notes, the vast dome immediately returns the melody, together – man and his echo –  they continue to sing. Hauntingly beautiful.

The massive Duomo is a forest of columns. Immeasurable. Undescribable.  The gold-decorated ceiling towers. How many times would I need to stand on top of myself to reach it? Pretend yourself the size of an ant.  This is my feeling inside the ancient cathedral.

The Composanto — a cemetery since ancient times — is a place of shadows and light.

The Leaning Tower—the architectural wonder that attracts the world—is newly restored and splendid in its determination to stand.