Basilica of Santa Croce

I don't remember exactly when it was that we went to Santa Croce. It was shortly after we returned from Venice. It may have been the next weekend. I can't remember. There are still many major sights that I have yet to see in Florence and this was one of them that I needed to see. Sarah, Kellin, and I live in Santa Croce's neighborhood. During Calcio Storico Fiorentino, a recreation of an early form of soccer that originated in 16th century Italy, our neighborhood cheers for the Azzuri of Santa Croce. We lost in the finals this year. More on that later.

It is a short walk from our place, and yet I'd never seen it. Santa Croce is quite large and has a large piazza in front of it. There is a statue of Dante to the left of this picture.

In 1966 there was a terrible flood in Florence and an untold number of priceless works of art and documents were destroyed. The picture above show how bad it was, especially since Santa Croce isn't even close to the Arno.

For the most part it was fairly similar to most of the large churches I had seen in Italy. At first glance, that is. There were more side chapels than I had seen in most churches. Of course if Sarah was here right now I could have posted pictures of a lot of the paintings and sculptures and she could have told me what to write about them, but she's not so I won't even attempt to make up anything. I would get stuff wrong anyway.

Unfortunately there was a lot of construction going on so I couldn't see the high altar, which Sarah assured me was beautiful.

Sarah reading some old sheet music.

Part of the cowl and girdle worn by St. Francis of Assisi.

The ceiling in the Pazzi Chapel. Sarah appreciated it more than I did.

This is the piazza from the front of Santa Croce. This is where the neighborhoods compete in the historic calcio (soccer) games. They set up bleachers all around and cover the floor with sand or dirt. You have to have tickets to get in, or you can watch it on tv. It is much closer to rugby than soccer as we know it today. Half the large, sweaty guys on the field just sit around hugging each other. Supposedly they're keeping the other guy out of action. But, of course, they're also keeping themselves out of action. I think they just enjoy holding each other. But I wouldn't tell them that.

I hope my blog doesn't bore you as much as these statues appear.