Farewell, Florence (Farewell, Europe)

"Morning has broken" -- Sunrise at the Florence Airport

(Disclaimer: not many photos here, but read on; the story gets REALLY interesting...)

July 22 (early evening on): We last were seen leaving the Piazza della Repubblica after bidding farewell to Terrie, who had quickly found a taxi to take her back to her Airbnb place.

We walked back to our place, figuring out how the evening would play out. We would finish packing, clean up, take a nap, then head out around 11 to find a taxi to take us to the airport.

A little explanation here: We had been pondering how to ensure getting to the airport by 4am for our 6:30am flight. We had heard from a couple of seemingly reliable sources that reserving a taxi in advance was chancy, and we were equally worried that using the taxi order app on my phone at 3 in the morning would be just as sketchy.

We really didn't want to miss our flight, so we had decided that we would simply go to the airport that night and just find a place to nap till morning. That would certainly ensure our being in the right place at the right time.

It seemed quite logical at that stage, so we were proceeding thusly.

It was still very hot when we returned to the apartment, so we retreated to our little en suite, which was air conditioned. Our host had a cat, who didn't really respond to his name of Linx, like any self-respecting cat. He had been trying for the past two days to get into our space, probably to cool down, as the air conditioning was not on in the rest of the apartment. That poor furry fellow was likely suffering mightily.

So we let Linx into our rooms, feeling generous on our last evening, as he really was very sweet and his owner wasn't home and he was probably lonely too. He had received high praise from previous Airbnb guests, so we were ready to get to know him a little.

Packing done, with the plan to leave at 11:00PM to look for a taxi, Cindy lay down for a nap and I was ... well, I was probably working on a blog chapter. Linx had settled down on Cindy for his own nap:

How comfy. How domestic.

So there I was, minding my own business. Linx had moved off of Cindy and was lying next to me. I petted him occasionally--not excessively, because I was busy with whatever I was doing.

Suddenly! Linx attacked--without warning and really ferociously. He grabbed my arm and sank all of his teeth into it along with all claws. When I tried to pull him off he grabbed my other arm and transferred his feet and teeth to that.

I was quietly trying to get him to let go because I didn't want to wake Cindy. But he was too much for me to handle and I was having absolutely no success pulling him away. I couldn't help myself finally and just screamed--which of course woke Cindy, who fortunately quickly got a grasp on the situation--and Linx. She said my arm looked like a flailing, flaming- hot cat-kabob. She immediately threw him out of the room while I went to the bathroom to start cleaning the blood off my arms and to assess the damage.

How/why did that seemingly sweet, placid cat turn so quickly? Honest to god, I had not done anything to inspire that kind of full-on attack.

Fortunately, we had a good supply of bandages with us. Early in our trip I had cut my arm on an open window (the problem with aging skin is its thinness), so we had used most of our travel first aid kit bandages on that. As a result, we replenished our bandage supply with a full package. So Nurse Cindy got to work, applying antibacterial ointment and bandages to the 19 (!!) wounds Linx had left on my arms. By the time she finished, both arms were almost totally wrapped in various sizes of bandages. Fortunately I had already intended to wear a long-sleeved tee for the trip home, so I wasn't going to alarm anyone with my mummy-like arms.

I was so in shock I didn't think to take a picture of Nurse Cindy's handiwork. Photo op missed. 🫤

This all occurred about 15 minutes before we were planning to go get a taxi. We managed to finish the medical procedure in record time and powered onward in search of a ride to the airport. The plan was to walk to a nearby taxi stand and catch a ride there (all the while keeping an eye out for an available passing taxi).

Nice idea--in theory. The streets, and the bars, were busy, but there was not a single unoccupied taxi to be seen on our way to the taxi stand. The taxi app on my phone also wasn't any help. Just radio silence. Beginning of our downward slide into desperation.

Dragging our suitcases and backpacks through the less than smooth streets of Florence, we arrived at the taxi stand, which happened to be next to the Florence Cathedral. Nice view, anyway. But no taxis. Additionally, there was a party of clubbers who also wanted a taxi and they got to that stand at the same time as we did. We imagined going hand-to-hand in combat for the first available taxi to arrive at the stand. But that was just dreaming. We saw plenty of taxis turning a corner about a block away, but nothing else. Level of anxiety definitely rising!

We called the number for the taxi service. I actually never was told that no taxi would come; instead, they simply hung up on me. We stood at that taxi stand for probably close to half an hour with no results and, really, not even a hope of something. Even though we didn't have to be at the airport until 4:30AM, we were panicking a bit. Okay, a lot.

We had come to a grim realization while standing there: it was Saturday night. Taxi drivers were doubtless very busy just driving between clubs, with no need (or time) to go to one of the stands around the city. It was about this time when we remembered all the tips about how late night life starts in Italy, so we were out there trying to catch a ride at the peak of activity.

Okay. We figured we should try a stand in a more commercially busy area, so we headed to Piazza della Repubblica. After all, that was where Terrie had quickly caught a taxi twice, so surely, we thought, we could easily find a ride there (not sure how many miles we had dragged our belongings through the bumpy streets of Florence by then, but we were working on setting a record).

We came first to a stand on an outer street of the plaza. That definitely looked like a loss, so we started down the street that led directly into the plaza, walking by a restaurant that was right next to Caffe Gilli, where we had eaten dinner two nights before.

But now, a little jump back in time. Two days before, we were walking in the heat of the afternoon toward the Cathedral when we saw an extraordinarily eye catching taxi driving through the crowds. This taxi was just amazing! The most colorful, fun, appealing vehicle we saw anywhere on our travels. Inside, the dashboard was covered with various colorful items, including at least one rubber chicken. The woman driving wore a big flowered hat and zany glasses. This was a taxi (and driver) that, once seen, would never be forgotten. I thought nothing more of it at that time, except to remark on its uniqueness.

So here we are, around 11:30 two nights later, desperately seeking a taxi, walking into Piazza della Repubblica, and right there I see that fabulous taxi parked at the curb and that fantastic woman walking into the restaurant right there. The taxi stand ahead was empty, and our experience of the past half hour told us that it might very well remain empty.

At that moment, I made a move more bold than any I'd made anywhere else in our two months of travel. I just told Cindy to wait at the taxi stand just in case a taxi showed up, and I went into that restaurant. The woman was standing at the bar, espresso in front of her, talking to the bartender.

I approached her and asked her if that was her taxi and if she was available to take us to the airport. Of course it was her taxi (I already knew that; anyone would know that she and that car went together). But she was most definitely not interested in taking us to the airport, for all of the following reasons: 1) she was done working and had just stopped at the restaurant to have a coffee before going home; 2) she was also very tired; 3) the airport was probably shortly going to close for the night; and 4) we really needed to go back to our hotel and just call for a taxi at 3am.

I explained that we had already checked out of our Airbnb and had no way to get back into that place. I told her that we were concerned about getting to the airport on time in the early morning; she said that the taxis were quite reliable in this matter, contrary to what we were told by our Airbnb host. I said we just really wanted to be at the airport for the night to be assured of catching our early plane to Amsterdam. She told me that she was pretty sure that the airport actually closed up (locked up, in fact) overnight, that it was a small airport, etc, etc.

Cindy here...

There I was, across the street from where Kate boldly entered the restaurant to wrangle the cabbie. A few minutes later I saw this amazing woman with long, flowing, blonde hair, round spectacles, big flower-laden hat, black-spotted, flowing dress, pink cape, and tons of bracelets. My father always talked about his guardian angel and immediately upon seeing this magnificent vision, I knew she was our angel and would take care of us. I felt a calm come over me as I met up with them across the street. When I got there we had to assure her that this plan was the best for us despite her conviction that we were total loonies.

Kate persisted in her cajoling. Caterina finally said that she would take us and then go home. She opened her taxi so we could wait while she used the restaurant's restroom. In that short time I took a couple of photos of the interior of her car, neither of which actually came out looking great:

There's that rubber chicken I had seen two days before. And actually that red hanging thing, as I recall, was another chicken.

We couldn't believe our good fortune. When Caterina returned, she first tried once more to persuade us to find a place to stay in town until time to call for a taxi -- in about three hours' time by then. We were just as determined to get to the airport that night, given that we would have a fairly sleepless night wherever we spent the next three or four hours.

So we set off for the airport and had the most magical, marvelous experience of a two-month trip that had been full of magical surprises. We certainly had not expected that the most mundane thing, a ride to an airport, would turn into this.

First of all, whenever we stopped at a traffic light, whoever was in the vehicle next to this taxi knew Caterina and would have a conversation with her.

Second, Caterina had to know about us, but more importantly, she wanted to tell us what she does--and it was an enchanting story.

She is not just Caterina; she's known as Zia (Aunt) Caterina to everyone in Florence. Her taxi is named Milano 25 (apparently all of the Florence taxis have names), and it originally belonged to her husband Stefano, who died of lung cancer many years ago. When he left her the taxi and the business, she was very shy and nervous about doing this. So she dressed up her taxi and herself so that she could make both her customers and herself feel more comfortable in this new role she had taken on.

Zia Caterina then began a special service of driving children with cancer and their families to the hospital for free. She calls her young passengers her Superheroes, and has had their comic strip images painted on her taxi. Her taxi is filled with keepsakes from the children whom she transported to the hospital for their cancer treatments.

She had no children of her own, but takes immense pleasure in helping these children feel better. She loves to be called Zia and knows that she's happiest being an aunt rather than an actual mother. She gave us a little book she published about her time with some children in Thailand at the "House of Joy -- Baan Unrak," built as a refuge for orphaned children and single mothers with difficult pasts. She was there during the pandemic, and the book is about how these children came to understand that they are alone and separated from others so that they can stay healthy and safe.

This woman is amazing. She simply exudes empathy and caring--and love and joy. We felt beyond privileged to have found her on this night that had turned sort of sour for us from the time that Linx had attacked. She certainly made us feel better, and safe and cared for. I can only imagine how comforting she is for the children she drives around Florence.

Once we were at the airport, Zia Caterina insisted on accompanying us inside and strode up to the reception desk. This was a god-send since we couldn't speak Italian. Here she confirmed that the airport would indeed close at 1AM and we would have to leave the premises. Zia Caterina was still worried about leaving us there, but the woman at the reception/information desk told us that there was an all-night cafe across the parking lot where we could hang out.

We assured Zia Caterina that we would survive the night. We took a couple of photos of her beside her taxi, and bade her a fond farewell with big hugs. What a farewell it was from Florence, and what a special ending to our two-month adventure!

By the way, those of you with iPhones know that the camera automatically adjusts the light so you can't really represent the natural (darker) light of night. This photo was of course taken a bit after midnight at the airport.

Writing out this story, I'm struggling to adequately convey just how magical that trip was, and how deeply fortunate we felt to have happened upon Zia Caterina at just the moment we did. She is unforgettable.

I encourage all of our friends, when they visit Florence, to find the taxi named Milano 25 and its driver, Zia Caterina. You will have a very special adventure. Marcia, did you ever get to see this woman on your 8 visits to Florence?

So on we went in our own little world of finding our way back to San Francisco. We kinda slept in the airport from a bit after midnight until 1:00AM when a guard came around and told everyone to get out of the airport. They would open again at 4:00AM. So with backpacks and luggage in hand we shuffled across the airport parking lot to the all night diner next to a few gas pumps. You may think this would be a quiet, lonely place from 1-4AM. Well, it was one of the most noisy, active places we had encountered on our 2 month extravaganza. Not only were there people constantly lining up at the counter for take-out, and people coming in to get gas, but there were a couple of very animated, loud, non-stop (smoking and drinking) talkers a few tables away. Sleeping on our little plastic chairs was not even a remote possibility with these guys almost shouting for hours in Italian. Maybe it would have been a bit more interesting if we understood anything, but I'm thinking not. We should have learned our lesson about Italian night life while we were in Milan. The evenings really do not get started until about 11PM or midnight. What we would have given to be somewhere else at that point, but beggars can't be choosers--and, after all, we had made this decision on our own. We schlepped our weary bodies back across the airport parking lot at 4AM and were welcomed by open doors!

So, as we said above, if you're in Florence and you want the best taxi ride ever, try emailing Caterina at milano25onlus@gmail.com. You'll not regret it.

Yes, our trip is finally almost over. All that is left is the journey back to 166 Murdock Street. And so ... a little wrap up. One more time, and then we'll let you go.