My little square window

from the most beautiful place I’ve ever stayed at

I woke up at 7 am today in a tiny room on the last floor of the most beautiful hotel I’ve ever stayed at, located in the XVI century palazzo. The room looked like a monastery cell, it felt the same way.

A single bed, a small clothing rack, a marble sink, and a toilet room with a ceiling shower. Two windows: one long and vertical in front of the bed, which allows the morning sun to wake me up gently; the other one square and small, in front of the shower.

I woke up at 7 am and stood under the cool water. I soaped my hair with lemon shampoo, washed the night away, and opened my small square window. I squeezed the upper part of my body into it, completely naked and soaking wet, and let the breeze of silent, silky Florentine air, filled with the smell of clay roofs, absorb me.

The church bell started ringing. I tried to find the source of the sound. It was the Santa Croce church, where Michelangelo and Galilei are resting in their marble tombs. I thought about how many years there are between us and that they must’ve also enjoyed these peaceful Tuscan mornings once. I thought I must go see them later today.

I stood there, breathing deeply. It wasn’t really comfortable to be squeezed into this tiny square window, but at the same time, it was the best place on the entire earth to be that morning. I saw a man opening his window to let the air, still fresh, into his house. I saw birds and heard the sounds of pasticcerias opening somewhere beneath, but I couldn’t see any of the people who were talking. The hair on top of my head that was hanging out into the street started getting dry, but I could still feel water running down my spine from the ends of my hair that were inside the room. I wanted to remember the joy of this feeling forever. Every single heavy thought left my heart. It felt like meditation, though I don’t know how to meditate.

There was a whole day in Florence ahead of me, but during breakfast everything went wrong. My family and I had to change the travel plan completely and drive to the airport to catch the 11 am flight. That meant no meeting Michelangelo and no seeing his David this time.

I’m on the plane right now, and I can’t get rid of the thought that I decided to squeeze myself into the tiny square window, soaking wet at 7 am, because deep inside my heart I felt that we — this city and I — wouldn’t have more time together today. And this was the most amazing way to embrace Florence.

The hotel: