I got there at 7:45 pm expecting a boring wait. Il Genio Firoentino had set up music and other entertainment in the Loggia della Signoria. As a result the wait was very pleasant. About fifteen minutes later two middle age Italian couples came and asked if I was waiting. “Si, groupo Corridoir Vasariano, Non appuntomento” was my truncated answer (excuse the spelling). They were also waiting without an appointment. The woman, I spoke to, didn’t seem happy that someone had arrived before them. I stood right in front of the door.
Half an hour later two official twenty-something blue-blazered official looking individuals started hanging around down by the next door. After a few minutes they took out sheets of paper. I experienced the proceedure the last night the tour was offered, so I knew that they were in charge of names. While I was thinking, that the woman I spoke to, who was also waiting, started off towards the two blue blazers. She may be a woman, she may speak Italian and indeed may be Italian but she wasn’t going to interlope and get her name on that list first. I dashed over and got there just ahead of her. These were different official name checkers from the other night and when I told them I was here for “reserve” they said just to wait. I politely mentioned that they might want to write down names. The waiting woman started in with a slurry of gatling-gun Italian. One of the blue blazers asked a question that I didn’t fully understand but I did recognize “primo (meaning first).” “Si” I said and pointed to me. The interloper woman wasn’t happy but my name was first on that list.
Since I was “primo” I went back to the apartment (just around the corner) to pee.
When I came back there was a crowd. Soon the blue jackets said to move to the Ufizzi entrance. They called off names for both of the groups, of about 30 people each. Everyone had arrived. They said sorry and went inside.
I wasn’t about to leave. I kept a positive attitude. Perhaps someone would have an attack of diarrhea and have to leave…and I would be there. Unfortunately there were no attacks of diarrhea. But two very attractive girls made begging faces, praying gestures and sad puppies caught in a cage pantomine to the guard in charge of the door, as he was about to lock it behind the two groups. He spoke to someone who was in charge of the Il Genio Fiorentino groups and came back. He said he was told “No.” The girls continued their anticsnand finally he said that perhaps two could come in. Of course.... the girls were cute. Well, now the interloper woman steps in and says something in a “wait a minute” way then points to me (in a “now he’s my best friend sorta way”) with a definite “primo” and then to herself as “secundo” with a party of four. “No, no, no” he replied "Solomente due." But the girls continued. The charm got thick, even for Italians. Then the interloper lady and her group started in with the begging charm. All I said or did through the entire affair was point at myself and say “primo”. As Mark Twain said “It is better to keep one’s mouth shut and appear ignorant than open it and remove all doubt.”
The guard went back inside (well, not totally as we had all inched our way inside the first set of doors) and he spoke with his comrade guard. He came back with a "Si" to all seven of us. NOTE: Let us not have any delusions here, it was the tight butts and the perky breasts of the two cute girls that got us in. And let it be known that, I am not too proud to accept feminine charity.
However, still not sure, I made myself first in the door. We all came in and the other guy locked the door behind us, as two more tried to get in. I immediately walked to the metal detector to empty my pockets, etc. “No, no, no” said the first guard as he took down the tan velvet rope and just welcomed us in without a search. All the $110 Euro-guests had to be screened…not us!
He told us to keep quiet... very quiet... and wait until the other groups of 30 each had left. This was one of the indications leading me to believe they were just custodians. A little of their conversation I understood and a few words were translated by two of the women in our group. After twenty minutes the two guys with keys (only custodians carry that many keys) began giving us our private tour of the Ufizzi and the Corridoio Vasariano.
We weren’t part of a huge group of 30. Just the seven of us, with two guides.
Those in charge of the other groups had locked the doors of each section after they left so we had to unlock and disarm the security. Three times the alarms went off resounding down the long football length galleries. Once a very official looking woman came up to investigate. When she figured out the situation, she just shook her head and left.
I begged. And one of the key-guys said I could take a picture with my phone but with no flash…I had to do it just to prove I was indeed there at night under such extraordinary circumstances. Unfortunately, one time I did push the “volume” button and the sound reverberated throughout the entire gallery. I was amazingly embarrassed.
We strolled down the halls with each of the two guys taking turns imparting their knowledge (5% of which I understood since they spoke no English and also why I don’t think they were docents). Sometimes we were two small groups each with a guide. I explained as best I could to them (and everyone else agreed) that it didn’t matter that I couldn’t understand everything because of how fantastic it was just to be here, with them, in such a small group…at night.
I would linger so that when they reached the end of the corridor, at the Arno, I could stand there and look down the entire football field length hall and pretend I was Cosimo or more appropriately Lorenzo the Magnificent on my way to the palace walking above the commoners on the streets. There was no music but this trumped the experience at the Duomo.
I didn’t realize, nor did the two girls that got us in, but the corridor goes all the way from the Palazzo Vecchio through the upper floors of the Ufizzi, over the Ponte Vecchio, sort of through the church of Santa Felicita (I think that is the name) and then on to the Palazzo Pitti. The entire route is lined with sculpture, paintings and miniatures and with windows that afford a wonderful view of the city, and as I mentioned the Arno, by night. I would linger silently as the others chatted and walked on. I would then pause, totally by myself, in front of a work of art, peering out the corner of my eye at the expanse behind. It was one thing to stand alone in front of an Albrect Durer, a Diego Velasques or even a Carraviago but there I stood alone in front of Rembrandt. One of the girls joined me, then called one of the “guides” over and asked why there seemed to be writing across the painting next to the Rembrandt. He grabbed the painting, pulled and twisted it away from the wall revealing the writing on the back of the linen that had soaked through. When he did that with the painting we all gasped. He said “Si” but “solomente” pointing at himself. We all laughed.
They would take down barrier ropes in the gallery and let us peer wherever we wanted. We got to see the area where the bomb had destroyed the corridor and the paintings that had been damaged. Our journey took over two hours of lingering with the art, mulling the sensations, savoring the views. Imagining.
As I mentioned the corridor winds down and around and up again, fully lined with the Medici collection. The corridor is over a kilometer in length and fully lined with an amazing collection, surrounded by perfect views. Especially as we walked above the Ponte Vecchio watching the collection of tourists gathered below who were listening to the musicians and drinking their wine. Out the other side of the corridor we would watch the shimmering light from the lamp posts cascade on the ripples of the water along the Arno. By now the interloper woman warmed up to me. Perhaps hoping to sell me something? She pointed out her shop, on the southwest corner of the Ponte Vecchio. She sells silver and some gold. As we passed through the corridor opening to the inside of the darkened church, all we could see were the remaining candles lit in offering. We finished our journey in the gardens of the Pitti Palace where news cameras were set up to cover this special evening of Il Genio Fiorentino from this the extra-special series called “le notti del genio (The Night of the Genius).”
The stars were perfectly aligned and someone must have shoved a handful of four leaf clovers in my pocket to allow me to experience this evening.
No pictures as I still haven't learned how to download them from my phone.
However, here is a picture (with path scribbled on a map) that shows the route of the Corridoio Vasariano from (10) the Palazzo Vecchio to (6) the Palazzo Pitti. The big scribble with the circle points to where my apartment is located.
