Stranded in Florence: when strikes disrupt plans

The sky is deceptively beautiful today - clear blue with golden sunshine streaming down on Florence's terracotta rooftops. It's the kind of November day that makes you forget it's almost winter. But beneath this picturesque scene, Italy is experiencing something far less serene.

I arrived in Florence this morning after a hasty departure from Bologna. The nationwide general strike that was announced earlier this week is now in full effect, and I'm witnessing firsthand how it's impacting everything from transportation to tourism. My original plan was to visit the Uffizi Gallery this morning to see Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus,' but those plans quickly dissolved when I realized the extent of the strike's impact.

A morning of closed doors

I left my hotel at 8:50 this morning, aiming to be at the Uffizi for its 9:00 opening. As I approached the gallery, I noticed something was off - the usual queue of tourists was missing. A small handwritten sign on the door confirmed my suspicions: "Closed due to national strike."

Standing there with my pre-purchased ticket pulled up on my phone, I felt that familiar twinge of disappointment that comes with travel disruptions. But after 94 days on the road, I've learned to pivot rather than pout.

I decided to walk toward the Duomo instead, thinking I might at least admire its exterior. The massive cathedral dome dominated the skyline as I approached, Brunelleschi's architectural masterpiece glowing warmly in the morning light. But again, a notice informed visitors that access to the dome and bell tower was suspended for the day.

The strike's ripple effects

It's fascinating how a strike ripples through a city. Many cafés remained open, but museums, galleries, and some public buildings shut their doors. The transportation system is operating on a severely reduced schedule, with only essential services running during protected time slots (6:00-9:00 AM and 6:00-9:00 PM).

While waiting in line for coffee, I overheard American tourists frantically rebooking flights and accommodations. One couple had planned to leave Florence today but couldn't get to Rome for their international connection. The barista, a young woman with impressive English, calmly explained that these strikes happen periodically in Italy - it's part of life here.

I sipped my espresso (excellent, though different from what I'm used to) and considered how differently various cultures respond to such disruptions. Some of the tourists around me seemed personally affronted by the strike, as if Italy had organized this inconvenience specifically to ruin their vacations. Others, like a group of elderly Italians at the next table, simply shrugged and ordered another coffee.

Finding Florence beyond the galleries

With my museum plans derailed, I decided to experience Florence through its streets instead. I crossed the Arno River via the famous Ponte Vecchio, the medieval bridge lined with jewelry shops that somehow feels both touristy and authentic simultaneously. The shops were mostly open, their windows glittering with gold and silver against the blue sky.

I spent nearly an hour wandering the south bank, eventually finding my way to the entrance of the Boboli Gardens. Again, closed due to the strike. But from the gates, I could glimpse some impressive cypress trees reaching skyward like exclamation points against the landscape.

By midday, I'd walked nearly 15,000 steps according to my phone. I found a small trattoria away from the main tourist areas and ordered a simple lunch of ribollita, the hearty Tuscan bread soup perfect for a November day that was growing cooler as clouds began to gather.

Adaptability: the traveler's greatest asset

Sitting here now in my hotel room at 2:00 PM, I'm reorganizing my plans for the remaining days in Florence. The strike is only for today, so museums should reopen tomorrow. I've booked tickets for the Uffizi in the morning and the Accademia (home to Michelangelo's David) for the afternoon.

These 94 days on the road have taught me that adaptability might be the most valuable skill for long-term travel. Today's closed doors don't mean tomorrow's will be locked as well. The restlessness that drove me from Bologna to Florence is temporarily satisfied by simply being in a new environment, even if I couldn't access everything I'd planned to see.

In a way, there's something fitting about experiencing delays and closures in Italy - a country that has taught the world about "la dolce far niente" (the sweetness of doing nothing). Perhaps today was meant for wandering rather than checking cultural landmarks off a list.

With 406 days still ahead of me, I'm learning that not every day can be filled with profound discoveries or perfect experiences. Some days are simply about navigating the unexpected turns that travel inevitably presents.

Tomorrow I'll try again for the museums. For now, I'm heading back out to walk along the Arno as the afternoon light turns golden on the water. And maybe I'll find a café to sit and watch the Florentines go about their Friday, strike and all.

Day 94 of 500