Pictures of Florence in Spring

I took most of my photos of Florence in my first two weeks there. However, after 8 months in the city, I decided to take a few pictures of the places that I didn't discover initially, but became part of daily life as the months wore on.

(Click on an image to see a larger version. Click on the "++" link to see a huge full-size version.)

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The bar between my first Florence apartment and lab, where I stopped each morning for breakfast pastries.
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The mesticheria a few doors down from the bar, which sold "domestic" stuff, like glassware, garbage bags, etc..
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A narrow street that I walked each day on the way to the Medici Chapel. Walking down streets like this, you always had to be on guard for taxis careening toward you, since there was little space to escape.
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Most of the roads in the "historic center" were like this one -- made of rough uneven stone centuries old. I learned to rollerblade reasonably well on such surfaces, although it added an extra challenge to dealing with Florence traffic.
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My room in my second apartment in Florence. Initially I was only going to stay 6 months, but then we ran 3 months behind schedule. We couldn't extend the lease on our first apartment, so I moved into this one. It was first the undergraduate place, but later became the home of whoever was intermittentently housed in Florence.
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The hall of the second apartment. It was fancy, but somewhat old and worn. It would've made a good set for a haunted house...
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The church of San Lorenzo. Michelangelo's Medici Chapel is under the smaller (on the right) red dome, while the newer, bigger, more gaudy Medici Chapel is under the larger dome.
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Outside of San Lorenzo, the streets were wide enough to hold this open-air market, where vendors hawked everything from religious icons to leather goods.
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The open-air market stretches on for blocks....
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The line at the entrance to the Medici Chapel. Since the chapel is small and cramped, they limited it to a few visitors at a time. I always dreaded entering the chapel in the afternoon, where I had to push my way through the front of the line, incapable of explaining in Italian that I worked there.
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One final look at the Ponte Alle Grazie, the bridge I crossed on many a cold Florence night to get home.


Lucas Pereira
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