It must be something in the tropical Madurai air that makes me want to write. I am sitting on the ‘thinnai’ – a fantastic architectural annexure, more a concept that the modern houses don’t incorporate. I am comfortably cross-legged and my laptop computer truly sits on my lap. The sound of the breeze from the lemon and coconut trees, the distant cawing of a crow the occasional bicycle feels rejuvenating.
There should be some focused incentive programs by government in encouraging one to work from a remote location wherever possible. That is the only way to retain jobs in small towns like Madurai – I already see there is only businesses that prosper and most employed folks live outside the city with their aging parents still living in their houses holding out as long as they could.
The thinnais are deserted.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Train to Madurai
I did wonder if I should be taking my laptop for the short journey to Madurai - that I thought about it in itself implies I have lost interest in conversations with fellow human beings and that I have actually brought it along confirms that it is indeed true. I think back on the numerous train journeys I have undertaken from Bangalore to Madurai clutching my pillow and an overnight bag – most of the time making an interesting conversation, sometimes making an acquaintance that lasted for a while. I remember the conversation where two of my fellow passengers lambasted the new wave of computer engineers for a couple of hours before asking me what I did. And then there was the guy who unburdened his tragic love story because he ‘felt comfortable’ at the idea of unburdening to an anonymous stranger. And then the man who was newly married and wanted to get some insights into why women think the way they do.
Today the coach is quiet almost like the coach I traveled during my Europe trip – whereas in my memory it is noisy with rambunctious young children and talkative old women.
Today the coach is quiet almost like the coach I traveled during my Europe trip – whereas in my memory it is noisy with rambunctious young children and talkative old women.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Day 15 : Da Vinci dreams
The last day of my grand tour had come up fast, we were to fly out of Zurich the next day. Everyone agreed to spend the last day in Rome again. We decided we would simply walk the streets with no major plan or urgency.
We got down at Barbareni and walked down first towards Trevi. Strangely I got reminded of 'The room with the view' as we walked the lively streets. It was very similar to the evening we walked the Champs Elysees - sort of drinking the local atmosphere. Despite the millions of tourists that must be descending on Rome, it seemed to retain the image of a living, breathing city unlike Venice.
Since I read 'Pompeii' I have been so intrigued with the concept of the ancient aqueducts and more than the fountain itself the idea that it stood at the end of an aqueduct fascinated me. The fountain is obviously a big tourist spot and I spent walking up and down enjoying the sculptures and the facade for quite a while. Neptune was majestic from whichever angle. I dutifully threw a coin, hoping to come back to Rome, before we left.
From Trevi, which was a relatively modern structure by Roman standards, I decided to walk in the direction of the Pantheon but took many diversions and bye lanes. One of them was the Piazza Colonna - this is the second of the many obelisks I saw in Rome. The Doric column was not plain and the intricate relief was a delight to zoom in on. Marcus Aurelius was one of the few human figures I saw on top of an obelisk, perhaps the only one. The il tempo office was an equally majestic building.
The Palazzo Montecitorio looked more like a museum or a hotel than a chamber of deputies and I spent some time gazing at the obelisk there. This one did not have relief work in the same detail as the other one, but was more interesting because of its scientific relevance. It is ironic that the restored column is not casting shadows similar to what the ancient romans would have seen.
The many Egyptian columns littering Rome brought to attention, the reach of the ancient Empire. I got reminded of the star trek episode where Kirk bemoans 'Would it have hurt us, I wonder, just to have gathered a few laurel leaves?'
We wandered the streets some more and after some time reached the Pantheon. I had read somewhere that the conversion of the Pantheon as a church was probably one of the reasons for its survival and I fervently thanked God for that. Agrippa or Hadrian, whoever built it the front columns and the pediments in itself sort of makes you stop. It was a warm sunny day and when I entered the Pantheon, light streaming from the oculus in the dome was disorienting. I stared at the oculus for quite some time and with the light dazing me I looked at the other sights in the interior in a haze. I had read the book Angels and Demons but had forgotten that Raphael's tomb was inside the Pantheon. Who could forget the beauty of his Sistine Madonna and the Madonna of the meadows. I stood for a few moments before the master's tomb.
Piazza della rotunda had its obelisk with a rather simple cross but was compensated by the fountain sculptures on the bottom. I spent some time sitting by the fountain. SR had his espresso shots and I followed now hooked on to the dark bitter liquid. We bought some souvenirs and relaxed on the side walk for some time watching the locals and the tourists.
Next stop was Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva, a particularly poignant stop - this is where, I had read, Galileo abjured his thesis. The obelisk was different, shorter than the rest for one, an elephant base for the other. Somehow I was not expecting an elephant and that too a rather cute one like that. "A strong mind is needed to support a solid knowledge" - I'd agree with that. I was amused by a few school children trying to climb to the base.
Our wanderings brought us to the monument to Vittorio Emanuele - I thought the nickname typewriter suited it quite well. We ended up spending quite a bit of time there, watching a bride and groom who were for some reason waiting on the sidewalk along with some guests. The square was large and walking along it was fun. We did not choose to go inside but instead just stayed in various spots of the sidewalk.
On our way towards the Forum, I got sidetracked into a museum. The sign outside said it was an exhibition on Da Vinci only this one had reproductions of his models. A quick poll later, three of us went in and SR and the others went to wander some more about the streets. The exhibits and the in deph analysis of his works were such a rare treat and by the time I came out I was so mentally exhausted!
Of course, I still wanted to go back to the Forum. So off we went, getting lost amidst the ruins. I could hear drum beats and battle cries, almost see Caesar and Cicero and Attila the Hun.
We arrived in the railway station late night to catch the train back to Zurich. There was a moment of anxiety when I had to hand over my passport. The train was quite comfortable and much to my surprise along with our passports we got a shot of coffee and muffin next morning.
We flew out of Zurich later that day, my heart filled with history and the influence of the western civilization.
We got down at Barbareni and walked down first towards Trevi. Strangely I got reminded of 'The room with the view' as we walked the lively streets. It was very similar to the evening we walked the Champs Elysees - sort of drinking the local atmosphere. Despite the millions of tourists that must be descending on Rome, it seemed to retain the image of a living, breathing city unlike Venice.
Since I read 'Pompeii' I have been so intrigued with the concept of the ancient aqueducts and more than the fountain itself the idea that it stood at the end of an aqueduct fascinated me. The fountain is obviously a big tourist spot and I spent walking up and down enjoying the sculptures and the facade for quite a while. Neptune was majestic from whichever angle. I dutifully threw a coin, hoping to come back to Rome, before we left.
From Trevi, which was a relatively modern structure by Roman standards, I decided to walk in the direction of the Pantheon but took many diversions and bye lanes. One of them was the Piazza Colonna - this is the second of the many obelisks I saw in Rome. The Doric column was not plain and the intricate relief was a delight to zoom in on. Marcus Aurelius was one of the few human figures I saw on top of an obelisk, perhaps the only one. The il tempo office was an equally majestic building.
The Palazzo Montecitorio looked more like a museum or a hotel than a chamber of deputies and I spent some time gazing at the obelisk there. This one did not have relief work in the same detail as the other one, but was more interesting because of its scientific relevance. It is ironic that the restored column is not casting shadows similar to what the ancient romans would have seen.
The many Egyptian columns littering Rome brought to attention, the reach of the ancient Empire. I got reminded of the star trek episode where Kirk bemoans 'Would it have hurt us, I wonder, just to have gathered a few laurel leaves?'
We wandered the streets some more and after some time reached the Pantheon. I had read somewhere that the conversion of the Pantheon as a church was probably one of the reasons for its survival and I fervently thanked God for that. Agrippa or Hadrian, whoever built it the front columns and the pediments in itself sort of makes you stop. It was a warm sunny day and when I entered the Pantheon, light streaming from the oculus in the dome was disorienting. I stared at the oculus for quite some time and with the light dazing me I looked at the other sights in the interior in a haze. I had read the book Angels and Demons but had forgotten that Raphael's tomb was inside the Pantheon. Who could forget the beauty of his Sistine Madonna and the Madonna of the meadows. I stood for a few moments before the master's tomb.
Piazza della rotunda had its obelisk with a rather simple cross but was compensated by the fountain sculptures on the bottom. I spent some time sitting by the fountain. SR had his espresso shots and I followed now hooked on to the dark bitter liquid. We bought some souvenirs and relaxed on the side walk for some time watching the locals and the tourists.
Next stop was Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva, a particularly poignant stop - this is where, I had read, Galileo abjured his thesis. The obelisk was different, shorter than the rest for one, an elephant base for the other. Somehow I was not expecting an elephant and that too a rather cute one like that. "A strong mind is needed to support a solid knowledge" - I'd agree with that. I was amused by a few school children trying to climb to the base.
Our wanderings brought us to the monument to Vittorio Emanuele - I thought the nickname typewriter suited it quite well. We ended up spending quite a bit of time there, watching a bride and groom who were for some reason waiting on the sidewalk along with some guests. The square was large and walking along it was fun. We did not choose to go inside but instead just stayed in various spots of the sidewalk.
On our way towards the Forum, I got sidetracked into a museum. The sign outside said it was an exhibition on Da Vinci only this one had reproductions of his models. A quick poll later, three of us went in and SR and the others went to wander some more about the streets. The exhibits and the in deph analysis of his works were such a rare treat and by the time I came out I was so mentally exhausted!
Of course, I still wanted to go back to the Forum. So off we went, getting lost amidst the ruins. I could hear drum beats and battle cries, almost see Caesar and Cicero and Attila the Hun.
We arrived in the railway station late night to catch the train back to Zurich. There was a moment of anxiety when I had to hand over my passport. The train was quite comfortable and much to my surprise along with our passports we got a shot of coffee and muffin next morning.
We flew out of Zurich later that day, my heart filled with history and the influence of the western civilization.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Day 14 : Of merchants and moors
I must have read the words 'Queen of Adriatic' when I was about eleven accompanying a faded color picture of Venice - a town with no conventional streets, where you go by boat to get groceries. In those days glossy printed books with a lot of color pictures were not that common in our house owing to the money such things cost. I probably saw it in a bookstore in my hometown, called Higginbothams. Since then the romance of Venice has always been close to surface, the highpoint being the delightful movie Casanova capturing Venice in all its glory.
That morning from the point when the train rolled out of the Santa Maria Novella station, I repeated aloud all the stations lining our journey to Venezia Santa Lucia, the words rolling warmly off my tongue, as I gazed at the earthy tones of the scenes outside. As the train moved past Padua and Verona, I felt the words of Shakespeare accompanying me throughout. How many Shakespeare plays are set in Italy; I wondered why. Where art thou Romeo? Petruchio too, for that matter.
I have always felt the two plays set in Venice the most tragic, even more so than Romeo and Juliet. Othello and Merchant of Venice have more tragic figures and are darker than the rest. By the time I got down I was so lost thinking about Antonio and Iago that it was a jolt to see people in their modern attire.
The station was beautiful, the water lapping on the sides and I got my first glimpse of Venice. It was very similar to my feelings when I first saw Bath. It was real! Whatever that was there in artist renderings, picture postcards, period movies etc. is not just one small building somewhere but really the whole city. How could a whole city possibly be so cute?
We spent the next hour in a slow boat drifting across the grand canal taking pictures of various buildings. The buildings were elegant but did not seem like they were lived in. Many seemed like empty facades - a few refurbished and rebuilt shiny ones with bright green trees stood in contrast. It was certainly very touristy - with most people giving the impression they were there for short term - I wondered if there truly were locals or whether the whole town was an elaborate set. We drifted past smaller lanes admiring the buildings and finally deciding enough of the canals made our way to the Piazza San Marco.
No one mentioned the pigeons I thought, seeing the hundreds of pigeons on the way and in the piazza. We crossed St.Mark's lion into the square filled with tourists. There were musicians playing to the lunch crowd, human chatter filled the air and I could see why Napoleon called it the drawing room of Europe.
I first walked the length of the square, taking in the facade of the Doge's palace, imagining the bustle of bureaucracy, though something like that is hard to imagine here - everything seems to be in holiday mode.
I gazed around the various buildings, spent some time taking pictures of the campanile, the pigeons and the musicians, taking time to approach the Basilica. I wanted to savor the moment and was fully rewarded.
The Byzantine architecture with its domes, interior arches, the mosaic, the ceiling, the whole Mediterranean feel was a very unique experience. More than anything else, the Basilica is the best example of Venice's cosmopolitan nature. It somehow made it believable that a Shylock or an Othello lived in this town. For that matter Casanova too..
I made my way to the two columns - Lion of St.Mark as well as the one with St.Theodore and sat down enjoying the music drifting across and the sun on my face.
We slowly drifted to a by-lane and sitting by the water ate a large thin crust pizza. The afternoon wore off, sounds of water and voices speaking in Italian, occasional noise of a gondola filled the air and I felt la dolce vita.
We slowly walked the various streets in the general direction of the Rialto stopping often and a few time getting lost in one of the shops. I bought a small fridge magnet made like a venetian mask instead of opting for a real one and then determined to buy something of Muranno glass I spent time peering over various objects. Some of the vases were gaudy and not intricate, besides were above my price point and I kept my attention to the smaller pieces. I settled for some glass fruits and chocolates. I thought I was done but saw a beautiful set of frogs and a lady bug that I had to buy. Happily collecting my souvenirs, I wandered the streets admiring the scene and finally reached the Rialto. It grew late and I stood there lost in the scene before me.
Venezia, even the name was romantic! I sighed and leaned against the bridge. The cliched yet very real image of a gondola drifting on the smaller water lane against the evening sky and music from some window will remain in my memories for a very long time
That morning from the point when the train rolled out of the Santa Maria Novella station, I repeated aloud all the stations lining our journey to Venezia Santa Lucia, the words rolling warmly off my tongue, as I gazed at the earthy tones of the scenes outside. As the train moved past Padua and Verona, I felt the words of Shakespeare accompanying me throughout. How many Shakespeare plays are set in Italy; I wondered why. Where art thou Romeo? Petruchio too, for that matter.
I have always felt the two plays set in Venice the most tragic, even more so than Romeo and Juliet. Othello and Merchant of Venice have more tragic figures and are darker than the rest. By the time I got down I was so lost thinking about Antonio and Iago that it was a jolt to see people in their modern attire.
The station was beautiful, the water lapping on the sides and I got my first glimpse of Venice. It was very similar to my feelings when I first saw Bath. It was real! Whatever that was there in artist renderings, picture postcards, period movies etc. is not just one small building somewhere but really the whole city. How could a whole city possibly be so cute?
We spent the next hour in a slow boat drifting across the grand canal taking pictures of various buildings. The buildings were elegant but did not seem like they were lived in. Many seemed like empty facades - a few refurbished and rebuilt shiny ones with bright green trees stood in contrast. It was certainly very touristy - with most people giving the impression they were there for short term - I wondered if there truly were locals or whether the whole town was an elaborate set. We drifted past smaller lanes admiring the buildings and finally deciding enough of the canals made our way to the Piazza San Marco.
No one mentioned the pigeons I thought, seeing the hundreds of pigeons on the way and in the piazza. We crossed St.Mark's lion into the square filled with tourists. There were musicians playing to the lunch crowd, human chatter filled the air and I could see why Napoleon called it the drawing room of Europe.
I first walked the length of the square, taking in the facade of the Doge's palace, imagining the bustle of bureaucracy, though something like that is hard to imagine here - everything seems to be in holiday mode.
I gazed around the various buildings, spent some time taking pictures of the campanile, the pigeons and the musicians, taking time to approach the Basilica. I wanted to savor the moment and was fully rewarded.
The Byzantine architecture with its domes, interior arches, the mosaic, the ceiling, the whole Mediterranean feel was a very unique experience. More than anything else, the Basilica is the best example of Venice's cosmopolitan nature. It somehow made it believable that a Shylock or an Othello lived in this town. For that matter Casanova too..
I made my way to the two columns - Lion of St.Mark as well as the one with St.Theodore and sat down enjoying the music drifting across and the sun on my face.
We slowly drifted to a by-lane and sitting by the water ate a large thin crust pizza. The afternoon wore off, sounds of water and voices speaking in Italian, occasional noise of a gondola filled the air and I felt la dolce vita.
We slowly walked the various streets in the general direction of the Rialto stopping often and a few time getting lost in one of the shops. I bought a small fridge magnet made like a venetian mask instead of opting for a real one and then determined to buy something of Muranno glass I spent time peering over various objects. Some of the vases were gaudy and not intricate, besides were above my price point and I kept my attention to the smaller pieces. I settled for some glass fruits and chocolates. I thought I was done but saw a beautiful set of frogs and a lady bug that I had to buy. Happily collecting my souvenirs, I wandered the streets admiring the scene and finally reached the Rialto. It grew late and I stood there lost in the scene before me.
Venezia, even the name was romantic! I sighed and leaned against the bridge. The cliched yet very real image of a gondola drifting on the smaller water lane against the evening sky and music from some window will remain in my memories for a very long time
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Day 13 : The importance of leaning
Next day morning saw us rise and shine early on under the warm Italian sun on our way to Pisa. Our travel was getting adventurous as most of it was unplanned by this time. I did not have a map, no tourist guides and when we landed in Pisa centrale no idea where to go. As we walked out SR spotted a group of nuns who looked like they were from Kerala and pushed me in their direction. Turns out they were from Nagerkoil and we had a pleasant conversation. Forgetting my purpose I spent the next few minutes happily interviewing them. They were serving in Pisa, many of them and visit home once a year or so, their accommodations and facilities were very nice, they cooked at home and they spoke excellent Italian. The older sister got me tickets to a bus and pointed me to the bus stop and told me where to get down. Heres to forgetting guide books.
As the bus moved on I strained my neck to catch a glimpse of a tower rising above the horizon, above the buildings. But none was visible, not even until we arrived at the very stop. Strangely despite the many pictures I have seen of various things, the leaning tower of Pisa has not been one of them and when I got down and came in line with the gate of the wall it was a delightful shock to see that little tower peeping from behind two larger structures like an impish child.
The tower was somehow smaller than what I had thought and we spent the next few minutes clicking pictures and wandering about the lawn. Beneath a blue sky with puffy clouds the tower looked like a wedding cake about to topple. The rest of the party decided to climb the tower while I elected to stay firmly on the ground. Flashbacks of me huffing and puffing, feeling dizzy climbing the steps to the Vatican dome and all the warnings about people with nausea was one reason. The other was to enjoy the Duomo peacefully. I liked my decision and wandered into the cathedral and spent the next many minutes viewing the renaissance paintings and the pulpit and the mosaic. Later when I came out to sit under the Tuscan sun, I wondered what the moral was. That you need to be out of ordinary to be noticed, that there can be a lot of bell towers but this one has achieved fame because it dared to be different or that a small piece of notoriety can take the attention away from a beautiful piece of architecture which really is the Duomo. I vaguely remembered reading somewhere there were two other leaning towers as well. Perhaps the moral is it all depends on how you market a trait.
The rest of the party joined me with their experiences of climbing the tower and we walked out towards the souvenir shops. A couple of policemen stopped by in their cars and posed for pictures with the tourists. I thought that was amusing - no one would care to take a picture with the policemen in India, the swamis are probably better looking.
We wandered about for some more time drinking in the scenery and then caught the train back to Florence. The day was balmy and we walked about the streets and I reflected upon my favorite hero - the archetype of a renaissance man, in many ways an idol - Da Vinci. Florence is an ancient city, I like to think its similar to my hometown - a living city yet with a rich culture and history. Da Vinci worked here and probably saw similar sights as he pondered on his works. It was not just the city of Da Vinci, but the city of Dante and Macchiavelli and Boticelli. I reflected on the Medici family and the paintings I saw in London and Paris.
We walked the length of the river bank drinking in the beautiful scene and then towards the Duomo. The cathedral, baptistery and the bell tower were stunning despite the many structures I have seen in the last few years. We spent some time walking around and in gazing at the buildings from different points admiring the intricate details and then much later ambled toward the piazza della signoria.
The most memorable parts of a city are often very different from what you expect from tour books when you are in one. It was the river bank in London, the sweeping boulevards in Paris and in Italy its no doubt the piazzas. These large squares, truly large and the looming buildings surrounding them is such intelligent design that I was most impressed. The afternoon was a delightful blur as we went from Piazza de Duomo towards Piazza della Signoria and later to Piazzale degli Uffizi.
I felt like a kid in a candy shop that whole day - Donatello, Cellini, Boticelli -with the highpoint of David. This David is my favorite as the experts say his pose is casual he seems to have decided on the fight but this statue captures the moment before he actually used the sling with furrowed brows and taut muscles. I like the cerebral nature of the statue and it was a thrilling moment to gaze at those eyes.
After what felt like walking many hundred miles in and out seeing many exhibits, we took a stroll amidst a light street painters. We bought some souvenirs, clicked some pictures and eventually came back to the river and enjoyed the evening sun. It is not just art but science too that has flourished. I recollected the statue of Galileo and also the painting in the Duomo at Pisa.
Leaning on the wall staring at the distance, I wondered what made Renaissance possible. It was this city, but what in this city - the patrons? Was it a happy confluence of a wealthy, powerful discerning patrons with abundant talent that caused the turn towards the renaissance. Perhaps I was being simplistic but standing there I could feel the excitement that must have been in the air in the medieval times. Science and art going hand in hand - Galileo and Da Vinci walking this same path - it was a heady feeling.
As the bus moved on I strained my neck to catch a glimpse of a tower rising above the horizon, above the buildings. But none was visible, not even until we arrived at the very stop. Strangely despite the many pictures I have seen of various things, the leaning tower of Pisa has not been one of them and when I got down and came in line with the gate of the wall it was a delightful shock to see that little tower peeping from behind two larger structures like an impish child.
The tower was somehow smaller than what I had thought and we spent the next few minutes clicking pictures and wandering about the lawn. Beneath a blue sky with puffy clouds the tower looked like a wedding cake about to topple. The rest of the party decided to climb the tower while I elected to stay firmly on the ground. Flashbacks of me huffing and puffing, feeling dizzy climbing the steps to the Vatican dome and all the warnings about people with nausea was one reason. The other was to enjoy the Duomo peacefully. I liked my decision and wandered into the cathedral and spent the next many minutes viewing the renaissance paintings and the pulpit and the mosaic. Later when I came out to sit under the Tuscan sun, I wondered what the moral was. That you need to be out of ordinary to be noticed, that there can be a lot of bell towers but this one has achieved fame because it dared to be different or that a small piece of notoriety can take the attention away from a beautiful piece of architecture which really is the Duomo. I vaguely remembered reading somewhere there were two other leaning towers as well. Perhaps the moral is it all depends on how you market a trait.
The rest of the party joined me with their experiences of climbing the tower and we walked out towards the souvenir shops. A couple of policemen stopped by in their cars and posed for pictures with the tourists. I thought that was amusing - no one would care to take a picture with the policemen in India, the swamis are probably better looking.
We wandered about for some more time drinking in the scenery and then caught the train back to Florence. The day was balmy and we walked about the streets and I reflected upon my favorite hero - the archetype of a renaissance man, in many ways an idol - Da Vinci. Florence is an ancient city, I like to think its similar to my hometown - a living city yet with a rich culture and history. Da Vinci worked here and probably saw similar sights as he pondered on his works. It was not just the city of Da Vinci, but the city of Dante and Macchiavelli and Boticelli. I reflected on the Medici family and the paintings I saw in London and Paris.
We walked the length of the river bank drinking in the beautiful scene and then towards the Duomo. The cathedral, baptistery and the bell tower were stunning despite the many structures I have seen in the last few years. We spent some time walking around and in gazing at the buildings from different points admiring the intricate details and then much later ambled toward the piazza della signoria.
The most memorable parts of a city are often very different from what you expect from tour books when you are in one. It was the river bank in London, the sweeping boulevards in Paris and in Italy its no doubt the piazzas. These large squares, truly large and the looming buildings surrounding them is such intelligent design that I was most impressed. The afternoon was a delightful blur as we went from Piazza de Duomo towards Piazza della Signoria and later to Piazzale degli Uffizi.
I felt like a kid in a candy shop that whole day - Donatello, Cellini, Boticelli -with the highpoint of David. This David is my favorite as the experts say his pose is casual he seems to have decided on the fight but this statue captures the moment before he actually used the sling with furrowed brows and taut muscles. I like the cerebral nature of the statue and it was a thrilling moment to gaze at those eyes.
After what felt like walking many hundred miles in and out seeing many exhibits, we took a stroll amidst a light street painters. We bought some souvenirs, clicked some pictures and eventually came back to the river and enjoyed the evening sun. It is not just art but science too that has flourished. I recollected the statue of Galileo and also the painting in the Duomo at Pisa.
Leaning on the wall staring at the distance, I wondered what made Renaissance possible. It was this city, but what in this city - the patrons? Was it a happy confluence of a wealthy, powerful discerning patrons with abundant talent that caused the turn towards the renaissance. Perhaps I was being simplistic but standing there I could feel the excitement that must have been in the air in the medieval times. Science and art going hand in hand - Galileo and Da Vinci walking this same path - it was a heady feeling.
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