Easter in Florence: The Explosion of the Cart

Easter is a huge deal in Italy, and is celebrated with varying traditions all over the country. 

In Florence, Easter is celebrated with the Scorpio del Carro, which translates to the Explosion of the Cart. This tradition dates back to the First Crusades, when a Florentine knight was the first to scale the walls of Jerusalem. As a reward for his bravery, he was given three splinters of the stone from the church they sought to liberate, which are still housed in a Florentine church.  After they accomplished their goal, the crusaders gathered in a church to purify themselves and receive the holy fire. Since then, Florence has celebrated Easter by using the three flints to light a small torch of holy fire, and then leading a procession through the city to deliver the fire to each home.

Eventually the tradition expanded to include the transportation of the fire by a cart. It wasn't until the 14th century that fireworks were added to the cart. Since then, the cart has "Exploded" each year. As it makes it's way through the city (with the explosion taking place in front of the Duomo), it is accompanied by a procession dressed in historical costumes, drummers, and members of the church.

After spending the night in Florence, I woke up early Sunday morning, ready to set out on the town. 

Making my way to Piazza del Duomo took less and less time and map confusion each time I left the hotel, though my sense of direction is truly terrible. The piazza was packed. So many people were stuffed into the space that it was completely impossible to see the front of the giant cathedral, let alone anything going on at its entrance. 

I tried to wiggle my way towards the front for a while but kept getting shoved back (to be fair, they were there first). Eventually, I came up with what I thought was a very clever idea. There was no reason I needed to be shoved in with all of these people; I could go through an alley and watch from a side street! Well, I was not the only person with this idea. While there were far fewer heads to peer over, I was still pretty far from the front and really could only see the top of the cart.

The procession was over by this time (not that I could have seen it if it wasn't), and there was still a good 45 minutes to stand and wait. I guess it's good for practicing patience! The alley was full of wonderful people watching opportunities. My favorites were a family with two little boys and a baby, who I entertained myself with by trying to eavesdrop on and understand. From what I could gather, the boys wanted to leave immediately, and the older one kept trying to get inside the baby's carriage. I also loved two little old men standing next to me, who would look at each other in exasperation every time someone with a selfie-stick would raise it above the crowd. 

By far the most interesting was a man in a second or third story window, directly next to the Duomo. 

Can you imagine that beautiful plaza and magnificent cathedral being the first thing you see every morning? He leaned out over the windowsill every 10 minutes or so to check on the scene below him, sometimes with a cup of coffee, other times with a cigarette. Standing there for an hour had me fawning over the marble striping, colorful patterns, and religious icons, let alone the sheer size of the monument. But to live next to it every day? I wonder if you ever stop being impressed, or if it is still just as striking, day after day?

At 11:00, the cathedral bells began to ring, deafening even over the thousands of voices below them. 

11:00 was when the Exploding of the Cart was meant to begin, and I could feel the crowd tense and become restless around me. Being in crowd is never comfortable for me, and it became even less so as the air filled with selfie-sticks and raised cellphones. The bodies around me seemed to grow like trees as everyone craned for a better view. But, this was Italy, so of course 11:00 came and went with no explosions, only adding to the tension. To make it even more uncomfortable, ambulance sirens rang out every half hour or so (as they do in a city), making the crowd feel more like a potential stampede. I can't help but always feel a small amount of panic when in a crowd from which I know there is no escape. Anyways, eventually fireworks erupted from the cart, filling sunny piazza with smoke. It was pretty impressive show, but I couldn't help but wonder (in Carrie Bradshaw form) how was it possible that the cart didn't literally explode?!

After escaping the slow and enveloping horde, I wandered over to see the some more of the markets. 

Though I wasn't overly disappointed that I hadn't seen the actual procession in front of the Duomo, I was THRILLED when it made it's way right by me! Everyone was dressed in colorful medieval costumes, which reminded me of Siena's contradas. I somehow had found a spot that they paraded right by, without a single person dampening my view! Woohoo! But it gets even better; after the procession ended, I continued my stroll around the city, deciding whether to head to the train station or stop and grab another coffee. There, almost directly in front of me, was the cart! White cows wearing flower garlands were pulling it down the road, and stopped for a few minutes for some reason- maybe to catch their breath, maybe to clear the way. No matter the reason, I got to see it right up close and personal! It was more beautiful and elaborate than I had thought from afar.

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Glögg and Other Estonian Things I Ate

For Thanksgiving, my friends and I took a trip to Tallinn, Estonia. 

Estonia was never on my radar until last spring as I tried to procrastinate plan my last minute very spontaneous spring break adventure (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3). Tickets to Tallinn, Estonia were the cheapest on Skyscanner, and I considered heading to Eastern Europe for the first time. Well, that didn't happen, but as my friends and I debated where to head for our cozy Thanksgiving trip, Tallinn was a top contender. We ended up booking a 4 day trip. 

Sofia, Angela, Odaliz, and I caught a 4:00am cab out to Malpensa, but were rewarded for our early wakeup with a full day in Tallinn. The flight only took about three hours, but I slept from takeoff to landing! Another quick cab ride to our hotel brought us to a pretty door that led to a stone, underground cave room. I know it sounds creepy, but it was beautifully lit with candles, made cozy with wooly covers on plush couches. The receptionist invited us to a glass of the house wine to warm up before heading back into the cold. And let me tell you, it was cold. 

Tallinn's Old Town is teeny, though the city is Estonia's capital and is home to over a quarter of Estonia's population. 

Up until 1918, Tallinn was called Reval (and again during the Nazi occupation during WWII). It was founded in 1248, but with evidence of human settlements dating back 5,000 years, it's one of the oldest capital cities in all of Northern Europe. The Old Town is one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites, recognized as one of the most well-preserved medieval cities in Europe. Yes, they play up the medieval angle for tourists, but it doesn't detract from the fact that it really is medieval. 

If it seems like all we did was eat while in Tallinn...

It pretty much was. It was so unbelievably cold outside, we ducked into the cozy restaurants as often as we could bear to put something more into our stomachs. When we did venture outside, however, the places we saw were fascinating! First, the Christmas Market was wonderful. There were wooly hats and mittens, sheepskin slippers and boots, festive linens, and weird little Santa statues galore, but more than anything, there was glögg. I've seen it called other things in other countries: glühwein in Germany, vin brûlé (or just vino caldo) in Italy, but in Tallinn and other Nordic/Eastern European, mulled wine is glögg. It warms you up to your core, despite freezing temperatures, and tastes like Christmas. In Tallinn, they use a liquor called "Vana Tallinn," which is a spicy, citrusy, vanilla-y rum, and completely amazing. I dare anyone to walk around a Christmas market in the town square of a beautifully preserved medieval village, all bundled up with a glass of glögg and not get into the Christmas spirit!

The funny thing was, once we left the city, things looked completely different. 

Though buildings still looked old, it was in a more run down, grungy look. But in a good way...? We had left the cozy Old Town in search of Renard (the coffee shop), and Telliskivi Loomelinnak, Tallinn's "Creative City." Looking on a map, it seemed super far, but it only took a 15 minute walk or so. Telliskivi Loomelinnak is a center of studios, creative companies, and little shops dedicated to arts. We spent a ton of time in one shop in particular, where the girl working the register told us that most of the jewelry we saw (beautiful, different pieces) were designs by her classmates. While the Old Town is traditional and preserved, the Creative City is modern and urban, but just as special, local, and unique. 

Should you find yourself in Tallinn, here are my top "Must Eat Here" recommendations:

Ill Draakon

A medieval little pub with a limited menu, but the coolest atmosphere! A slightly crabby (purposely so for ambiance's sake) waitress took our order for elk stew (!!!) and cider, and let us know that if we could manage to get ourselves some pickles, we could have them for free. That was more difficult than you'd expect though; there was a giant barrel of pickles and a long wooden stick with two spikes on the end, and we had to spear them out! It was so hard, but I managed to snag two. I'd have done well for myself in medieval times.

Leib

We found Leib on a list of amazing restaurants by the London Foodie, and it was one of my favorite restaurant meals of all time (hyperbole? maybe... or maybe not). The name comes from the local black bread, which is nutty and delicious, and as the menu states, "Good bread is always made with soul." Everything was fresh, seasonal, and local, which resulted in a small but wonderful menu. I had brown butter baked pumpkin with goat curd and pumpkin sauce (all about that goat cheese), and a weird orange wine that I wish I hadn't ordered (to be fair, they warned me and let me try it). We split four desserts after, with the most wonderful being a bread pudding with cranberries, and the weirdest being dried egg yolk with cherry cream and yogurt sorbet. Sighhhhh I'm still thinking about that pumpkin...

Renard 

We stopped at Renard when we left the Old Town to find the design center of the city. The coffee shop was attached to a motorcycle repair shop, and had a barber shop called "Rude Rats" upstairs. I love seeing the different ways coffee can be brewed- my little Italian moka pot was my go-to for my first two years in Italy, and now I get a little bit of daily joy from using my French press every morning. I hadn't ever seen coffee brewed using the nordic methods, though, and the baristas at Renard had made an art out of it. They brewed two little pots for my friends and I, explaining each step as they went, and instructing us about which notes to look for in each brew. Their coffee is like nothing I'd ever had before; drank without milk or sugar, it was more like tea than what I'm accustomed to as coffee. 

Maiasmokk

Opening in 1864, Maiasmokk is Estonia's oldest operational cafe, where the interior has looked exactly the same for over a century. Legend has it that marzipan was first created in Tallinn, and has been used to cure lovesickness since the Middle Ages- obviously, now we just eat it because it's delicious, but I do love a good tradition! The whole trip, we were blown away by the gorgeous window displays with a ferris wheel of chocolate spinning in the window, and apparently people have looked in awe through that same window for years! Inside is beautiful, and you can watch an artist painting the treats before putting them up for sale. We tried the marzipan, hot chocolate, and a few beautiful and delicious chocolates before catching our plane on our last day in Tallinn. 

Magic, Monarchs, and Malt: Thanksgiving in Scotland

For me, the hardest day to live abroad is Thanksgiving. 

Knowing my family is together, celebrating a holiday that for us has always been about togetherness, and not being there is heart wrenching. This year I even looked into plane tickets to make the trek back to Rochester for the four-day weekend, but by the time I got home I would have had to turn right back around. Anyways, lucky me gets to distract myself from the sadness with fabulous adventures! I loved my trip to Edinburgh, which had the perfect mixture of wandering and history.

This cutie little dog has a super sad story, and is a symbol for Scottish loyalty. When his owner died, he made a trip to the graveyard every day for years, spending hours sitting on his owners grave, until his own death. Poor little guy :(

I loved this. "Light" has been a major theme in my thinking
lately- see my previous post for more!

What I connected most with from Scotland was the element of storytelling that is so prevalent in the culture. 

As one of the last nations to adopt written language as a method for recording their history, the Scots have a passion for the spoken word. It was evident in almost all of my interactions with the Scottish people that my friends and I met throughout the trip.

On our first night, we went to "The Dark Side Tour," which covered Edinburgh's dark and spooky side: mausoleums, murders, witch hunts, and folklore. 

Our guide had our rapt attention for hours, hanging on his every word- he was incredible!

I love mythology and folklore, and was excited when our guide told us some stories that I realized many of my favorite books were based on. We wandered up a dark, spooky hill, where we learned about kelpies and silkies, as well as "Arthur's Seat," a hill some believe King Arthur was buried on. However, that isn't the case at all. The land was supposedly once roamed by giants, and the last giant in the area (Arthur) use to people watch while sitting on the hill. Hmm. 

Scottish folklore is like other fairytales and myths in that it is meant to explain things. However, it is typically much scarier and darker. 

For example, kelpies are water demons that take on the form of beautiful horses. They lure you to their side at the shore with their beauty, because who doesn't want to pet a beautiful white horse, and then they eat you. Brownies were good little beings who clean up your house at night in exchange for food and little gifts. They're happy to help as long as you don't abuse their generosity; if you do, they retaliate and burn down your house. Interesting way to keep children away from the water, and keep their rooms clean!

At Doune Castle, the filming location for Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Game of Thrones (Winterfell!),
and Outlander! I am in heaven!!

Rich, royal colors!

We went on a second tour the next day through the Heart of Scotland Tours.

Ours was Tour Two: Stirling Castle, Highland Lochs, and Whisky. The first stop was Stirling Castle, where Mary Queen of Scots was crowned as an infant. This was the beginning of my TV-show-fan-girling, because one of my favorite shows (Reign) is about her! Ahhh! While roaming through the castle we came across a woman dressed as a lady in waiting. She explained that the king's bedroom was completely bare because after his death Marie de Guise had every reminder of him removed. The queen's room, on the other hand, was completely decked out in rich colors, tapestries, and ornate decor to remind visitors of her regality. In fact, though there was a bed in the room, she didn't even sleep there; the bed was in place to give important visitors the feeling of intimacy with the queen.

These tapestries took years for three women to
complete! The craftsmanship was incredible!

I enjoyed hearing these details, but the woman/actress/storyteller in the next room blew me away. 

She was completely in character as a maid the entire time we listened to her, telling story after story, fact after fact, in a seemingly natural way. She'd connect little stories to details she pulled from the crowd. At first I was a little disappointed to hear that most of what we saw a replication, but then realized how incredible that was. The tapestries on the wall took three weavers years to make, working all day, side by side. The oriental rug was made using the same exact techniques that had been used that was used in the 1500s, and the Italian wallpaper books that were admired during the time were used to inspire the designs painted during the castle's restoration. I was astonished by the connection we still have to the past, that there are people spending years of their lives recreating artwork using original techniques. It's just so cool! But as amazing as that was, for some reason I got choked up when she told the crowd that the door to the room we were in was the original- Mary, Queen of Scots used that door! Crazy! (I cry over everything, don't judge me).

My buddy Fiona and I have the same hair :) 

Just your average Scot, frolicking through the highlands. 

The storytelling wasn't just limited to tourism, though my next example is from a tour guide. 

Every day conversation was embedded with stories and history. While making idle chatter towards the end of the tour, I asked our guide about typical mealtimes. We had noticed the night before that our 9:00 dinner reservation at The Witchery (AMAZING restaurant, btw) left us as the only late-night diners, while in Italy 9:00 would be peak dinner time. Instead of simply responding with "6:00pm" or something, he launched into an intense discussion on the class system that hasn't quite disappeared yet, and how mealtimes and the number of meals you ate a day depended on whether you were working or middle class... whew!

Enjoying our mulled wine at the Christmas market!

I left inspired to go home and write (clearly, since this is post #2 since my return, and I have been slacking since August!), and I'm not alone. 

J.K. Rowling wrote the first of her fabulous series in the first cafe my friends and I stumbled across in Edinburgh! I was absolutely in awe! When she was living in the lovely city, she didn't have a lot of money to spare and would look for free things to do- after seeing the boarding schools, castles, and being immersed in the folklore (Care of Magical Creatures/Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lupin, anyone?!), it's easy to see how the magical city inspired her. And she wasn't the only author who gathered name inspiration from wandering the graveyards. A certain Mr. Dickens passed a grave in Edinburgh marked, "Here lies Ebinezer Scroggie, a mean man," and based his own Scrooge off of this idea of being so cruel, people couldn't even be kind or gracious on his headstone. Years later, however, he discovered that the grave actually read, "Here lies Ebinezer Scroggie, a meal man." Turns out Scroggie was a  well liked, charismatic, slightly licentious corn merchant. Dickens felt terrible for blackening his character by associating the gregarious Scroggie forever with  the mean-spirited Scrooge!