Sculpture by the Sea 2010

Image via Tom Häkkinen
From the 2008 Sculpture by the Sea :
Kozo Nishino's "Harmony with the Breeze"
Transfield Holdings Kinetic Art Prize winner

This weekend Esther and I finally got around to having a look at the annual “Sculpture by the Sea” sculpture exhibition between Bondi and Tamarama Beaches.

The event, which began in 1996, has been getting and better - with perhaps only 1 or 2 pieces of sculpture that looked like rubbish that hadn’t been cleaned-up. There were at least 3 that I found outstanding. Which for me seems incredible, a contemporary sculpture exhibition where the good pieces of art outnumber the cobbled-together pieces of rubbish. To be sure, there were a few sculptures that couldn’t help but elicit a silent “I could do better than that” in my head, but only 1 real stinker. Unfortunately I didn’t buy the exhibition catalogue so I can’t name and shame the artist for who contributed the plastic cups tied with string and dripping water, but if you went you’d remember who I’m referring to. The other sculpture that I didn’t like, actually looked like it might have taken quite a lot of effort, but unfortunately, the end-result looked like a suburban backyard where the kids hadn’t tidied-away their toys (I think this is a real risk that sculptors are running when they use either bright colours or plastic materials in an outdoor exhibition). Unfortunately I forgot to charge my camera beforehand as well, so no pictures - I'll try to see what I can find on the internet and put some links down the bottom.

My favourite artist, whose work is so distinctive you will immediately know it is his without having to refer to the catalogue, is Kaoru Matsumoto. He generally creates kinetic pieces that move in the wind, this year’s entrance was “Cycle 90º A Premonition of Wind III”. It was a sublime piece of art, which moved slowly yet unpredictably in the wind. I have no idea how Matsumoto must have figured out the centre of gravity of all the different moving parts to make its movements so counter-intuitive, but when you look at it, “gravity-defying” and “weightless” are the first words to enter your head, such is the effortlessness of the sculpture’s lazy movements in the sky. The best thing about Sculpture by the Sea, especially on a sunny day like Saturday was, is to lie on the grass and watch a sculpture like “Cycle 90º” against the slow-moving clouds. A great, shiny construction of polished stainless steel - moving in as if it were a part of nature. The other great thing about this work of art is that although it must be quite heavy and is made of steel, it moves completely silently and its polished surfaces are so seamlessly-perfect that it is very difficult to find where the actual moving parts are joined.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Moseholmian figures: "Project" by Danish
artist Keld Moseholm, on display during the
2008 Sculpture by the Sea

The $60,000 Balnaves Foundation Sculpture Prize however went to another artist whose work is equally distinctive. As I explained to Esther on the way to the exhibition:


“You know the guy who does the little fat men”
“Yeah”
“He won it this year”

“Mirroring 1995” by Danish artist Keld Moseholm can be immediately recognised for its distinctively rotund Moseholmian bronze figures. It’s good to see Moseholm winning this year, because his little fat men have always been something to look forward to - especially if some of the other sculptures have been a little less than exciting.

Links:

Gary Hayes' photo of “Cycle 90º A Premonition of Wind III” on Flickr

Gary Hayes' photos of Sculpture by the Sea on Flickr

Designboom - some website that also has some photos of this year's Sculpture by the Sea

French is our heritage too!

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Château de Langeais in France, once the home of King
Richard the Lion Heart, destroyed by the English in the
Hundred Years' War and rebuilt by Louis XI in 1465.

Last week I commented on why Australians flock to London in droves and about the cultural heritage that brings so many Australians to the British Isles. But, whilst Australians seem well able to appreciate the cultural significance of Britain, I feel that they don’t share the same enthusiasm for the country on the other side of the channel, which I think is equally as significant. My own contention as an English teacher, is that all speakers of English who actually take an interest in the language or have a love for the language should try to acquaint themselves with French. Because French makes up an important part of our heritage too - I think far more so than Latin or Greek - Samuel Johnson in the preface to his, the original English dictionary, explains that he preferred French spellings to Latin ones where the etymology was uncertain because as he put it “the French generally supplied us.” And when more than half of the words in the English language have either French or Latin origins that makes a big deal.

One thing that I noticed whilst travelling about in Europe is the line that you can draw across the continent dividing the two biggest cultural influences on almost every country, that is, the line between the Latin, and the Teutonic, and there exist a heap of cultural stereotypes and attitudes that seem to accompany the divide. (In terms of language Finland, Greece, Ireland and the Slavic countries all have very different languages, but if only in cultural stereotypes if in nothing else, they still seem to conform to their side of the dividing line). In Switzerland this line actually has a name: the Röstigraben or Rosti ditch after a popular form of mashed potatoes eaten in the German half of Switzerland. Maybe in other parts of Europe the demarcation isn’t so clear as in Switzerland, but you’ll know on which side you’re on when you sample the food in the North (or when you’re in Oslo and you have to barter one of your own limbs just to pay for the meal!). Or, likewise, you’ll know you’re in a Latin country when notwithstanding the tasty food your holiday experience is somewhat lessened when you have to learn to use your elbows to queue-up for a bus in Nîmes after your train has been inexplicably cancelled.

But I can’t help feeling that England and subsequently the United Kingdom occupy a bit of grey area. No-one would ever say that the UK is a Latin country - but at the same time, it’s not quite one-hundred-percent Northern either. The language itself is an odd mix, Germanic origins and an underlying Germanic grammar but with Latin words making-up more than half the vocabulary.

English stereotypes are likewise mixed: the English have somehow managed to acquire the dour puritan work ethic of Northern Europe without the famous German efficiency or Scandinavian inventiveness. Don’t think I’m just knocking the Brits either - Australians have a “she’ll be right” attitude to not doing a job properly without the joie de vivre or work-life balance of the Latin countries.

Hmmm, best of both worlds really.

But, actually these are just facile national stereotypes. The point that I really want to make is that too often the French heritage in English is forgotten. Whilst 20th century English writers like Thomas Hardy and J.R.R. Tolkien rejoiced in digging-up old English and Anglo-Saxon words, with their homely and honest connotations (consider Thomas Hardy’s “Hap”), only advertising executives and the worst types of academia have taken an interest in the French and Latin words in English.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Bordeaux, capital of Aquitaine,  was ruled by the King
of England for 300 years, or was it that for 300 years the
Kings of England were from Anjou or Aquitaine?

But there are fantastic words derived from French too. As well as almost all the words relating gouvernance and justice, also the words that have connotations that are Royal and Grand, there are Anglo-Saxon equivalents for these words but Kingly and Great take-on a whole new level of meaning when said in French. French gives us glorious words - like Glory, as well as the pompous like importune and impostor (and yes - pompous also came to Middle English via the Old French pompeux).

But I might leave you with a favourite for rich connotations and a lovely etymology: consider “journey” from journée as in bonne journée, it originally only meant a day’s travel or a day’s work but in English the word seems to have exemplified Bilbo’s attitude to a going out for the day - which says a lot about the English:

“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

An Australian in England

Image via Wikipedia

The Fourth Test match between Australia and England in
Brisbane 1933 during the height of the "Bodyline" scandal.

I returned to Australia on Thursday. Which means I’m gonna have to change the name of my blog. But on the plus-side, I can throw-out my tie and slacks - you don’t need them in Australian schools! I’ll no longer be getting paid in monopoly money either (during the last Ashes series the Barmy Army could chant “we’re fat, we’re round, 3 dollars to the pound!” now the Great British Pound buys a mere $1.60 but English and Australian teachers are still getting paid the same as during the last Ashes series). The real biggie though is that I can finally enjoy the positive energy of that great big fusion-reactor that sits in the middle of our solar system seeing as it’s no longer perpetually covered by clouds.

(Ok maybe that last point was a bit unfair).

But, readers might wonder, if there’s so much going for Australia - then why did I, among so many other Australians - determine to move to live and work in merry ol’ England for 2010? And how do you explain the army of young Aussies that descend upon London, year after year, rain, hail or shine? (It’s mostly rain by the way) Why also, is there a near permanent population of just-off-the-boat Aussies in west London suburbs such as Earl’s Court, Acton Town and Shepherd’s Bush?

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Thistles, Poppies and Hedgerows in a Hertfordshire field.

I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think that most British don’t really get just how attached Aussies feel to the United Kingdom - notwithstanding that it’s quite literally on the other side of the world. I remember being really shocked fielding this question from one of my students during a detention this year:

“Sir? Do you have a King or Queen over in Australia?”

To which my response, “Yes, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the second.” Elicited some surprise.

“You mean, the Queen of England is also the Queen of Australia?”

But other than being mutual subjects of Her Majesty the Queen, which by the way, doesn’t actually get you through passport control faster than a citizen of the Republic of Estonia, a lot of Australian culture comes from the United Kingdom as well. Most Australian celebrities are also British celebrities, and sometimes won’t become famous in Australia until first “making it” in England. Think of the Kylie and Dannii Minogue, Peter André and Rolf Harris for example, who all live in the UK, and watching BBC Morning in London, one wouldn’t be particularly surprised to see actor Ray Meagher chatting on the couch about doing a West-End Show (ok, maybe I was a little surprised trying to picture “strike-me”, “flamin’”, “pack of galas” Alf in “Priscilla Queen of the Desert”). But also most Australian intellectuals find themselves housed in London as well, if only to escape Australia’s oppressively ignorant “matey” culture: Germaine Greer for one, but also Barry Humphries and Geoffrey Robertson.

For me, the biggest tie to the British Isles was my upbringing in an essentially British, not just Anglo-Saxon, culture. Which may sound strange coming from a Finnish Australian, with a father born in the Keski-Suomi region of Finland and a Scottish mother who had few nice things to say about those “perfidious Albions”. Maybe it was Jo, Bessie and Fanny from Enid Blyton’s “Magic Faraway Tree”, or those Pevensie kids, or Badger, Rat, Mole and Toad of Toad Hall, but I think I have been imbibing English culture from before I was even old enough to know that I didn’t actually live in England.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A country path in southern England.

You can imagine then, the excitement that I got, notwithstanding that I was 21, when I first got to witness the marks on the window that were evidence of Jack Frost having been during the night - when I was growing-up Jack Frost was as elusive as the Sandman - who I’d try stay-up for but never catch! Or when I went on a tour of the Cotswolds and got to spot Gloucester - a place hitherto only associated with showers of rain and puddles able to swallow-up any passing Doctors. Or seeing, Foxes, or Hedgehogs, or hedgerows between fields, or aerial views of the country that had that “patchwork quilt” division of land. For an Australian, England is almost like Narnia, some fantasy-land that you’ve read and heard so much about but never seen (other than on the television) and for better or for worse THIS has become an integral part of Australia’s heritage, this: “This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle... this happy breed of men... this precious stone set in the silver sea... this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England”.

Related articles

• Bad light mars play as Aussies make silly point (independent.co.uk)
• The Ashes 2010: England have no fear of Australia, says pace bowler Stuart Broad (telegraph.co.uk)

The Fox at Willian

Image via Wikipedia

The Fox at Willian

This is a fantastic place for a Sunday lunch or an afternoon drink. It is in a tiny wee village called Willian in North Hertfordshire. A village according to Wikipedia with a population of 326, but if you look at it on Google Maps, you will notice that it has been so engulfed by the much newer town of Letchworth that it could almost be considered as just another of the estates that make up Letchworth. Except that unlike Letchworth Garden City which was founded in 1903, Willian is a timeless English town, with a mention in the Domesday book, and which still retains the feel of an old medieval village.

A medieval village that fills up with Aston Martins and BMWs on the weekend that is. Willian is on the pretty and scenic edge of Letchworth and not at all far from Letchworth Golf Course and Letchworth Hall Hotel, the Letchworth greenway and Wymondley wood. With gentle cows grazing in the field opposing the main pub “The Fox” it makes an idyllic spot for Sunday drivers and England’s “leisured classes”. Nevertheless, as well as boasting, two pubs, a church and a post office it also has an excellent deli “The Food Barn” which sells produce of a strictly local provenance, including a delicious Bedfordshire strawberry jam.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A Walk through the Garden City Greenway

There is a reason of course for Willian’s popularity with drivers of Aston Martins and that is that it is delightfully scenic. Especially Willian Pond when frozen over during winter time which I was lucky enough to witness when I first arrived in the UK this especially cold January and an image of which is one of the most popular post cards at Letchworth’s tourist information office (yes Letchworth actually has a tourist information office!).

The Five Greatest Buildings in the World

1. Palais du Louvre

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The Louvre city-facing side

Begun by French King Francis I, who returned from his campaigns in Italy with countless renaissance treasures which would later become the source of the Louvre’s impressive collection, the Louvre was also the site of one of the pivotal moments of the French revolution when the then adjoining Tuileries Palace was stormed by an angry and increasing confident Parisian working class. The Louvre is not just the greatest building in the world – it’s surely the greatest in the Universe! It’s gothic, it’s renaissance, it’s palatial opulence in the heart of Paris, but most of all it’s beautiful when beams of winter sunlight arc in from the south and animate its carved stone surfaces.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The Louvre, Pavillion Sully, as seen from the Cour Carrée

I was lucky enough to witness this effect the first time I ever set eyes upon the Louvre on a frosty February day in 2005. And since then I’ve only had glimpses and reminders of that particular magic again. Note well: the effect isn’t the same in summer; the statues of France’s former heroes that sit atop the many pillars of its many arches lie dormant in the oppressive summer sun of August and September. Only under the perfect alignment of a crystal clear atmosphere, cool ambient temperature and a perfect arcing angle-of-incidence of the sun’s rays do the statues come alive and does the stone begin to breath with a life all of its own.

2. Westminster Palace

The principal building of the British Houses of Parliament the House of Lords and the House of Commons. Its spiky gothic towers and walls are just fantastic! It is gothic without being medieval and along with Big Ben it seems to somehow symbolise the exciting promise of a cosmopolitan big-city Europe as well as history and culture at the same time.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The British Houses of Parliament

There was once an English King who had the audacity to march into the House of Commons and try to arrest some of its members by force – the example that was made of him was so resounding that I think it has had a tangible effect on the power of all kings everywhere since. Notwithstanding the fact that the English parliament has since then played a significant role in entrenching monarchical power from the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in France, to setting-up the House of Saud in Saudi Arabia to backing the Shah in Iran.

3. The Sydney Opera House

Image via Wikipedia

The Sydney Opera House - with a surface like
"hammered silver"

Australia’s very own great building. Why do I think it fits amongst the top five? Notwithstanding that it is a modern building and I generally have a predilection for buildings which have withstood the test of time I still find this building remarkably beautiful. Basically it is a beautiful building in all three levels of zoom: proportions, details and textures. That is to say, when looked from afar, looked from a medium distance and looked at up close, it is always beautiful.

As its popularity on postcards and tourist brochures for Australia attests to, it is a building with stunningly beautiful proportions, I think because it perfectly balances symmetry and random variation as if it were a thing of nature. Each building or shell is beautifully symmetrical, yet they all are a little different in terms of size and orientation. The chevron pattern of the tiles on the outside of the building give just the bare minimum amount of detail to stop the enormous white shells that are the walls of each building from seeming bare and unnatural. Finally the walls are made from porcelain and not simply painted or rendered white. In creating the tiles for the walls, architect Jörn Utzon wanted something very specific: a tile that "had gloss but did not have a mirror effect. A tile with a coarse structure that resembled hammered silver." This “hammered silver” look is really what makes the building complete and makes it blend into the harbour which surrounds it as if it were of a piece with the water itself.

4. The Taj Mahal

Although you wouldn’t think it, I actually think this building is a winner for many of the same reasons as the Opera House mentioned above. It has extremely elegant proportions with the slender minarets complementing the bulk of the central building and is almost most beautiful when viewed from the other side of the river Yamuna that flows through Agra. In terms of details, the delicate marble lattice windows are beautiful enough to warrant this building’s inclusion in the list even if it was in the shape of a box and made out of concrete. And as for the texture of the materials, I think that not even great European cathedrals like Notre Dame in Paris and the Duomo in Florence with their incredible stone and marble masonry have been as painstakingly worked on as the inlaid marble of the Taj Mahal. In fact, it beats the Opera House on all three scores and I would probably put it second on the list were it not for one small but important facet of the building – it’s function.



Because great buildings are about people as much as anything else and whilst I do believe that there is a place for monuments to great events and even tombs to important people (whether that be important to just you and your family or the whole of humanity) this tomb seemed to me particularly dead. Walking up to the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal herself, I couldn’t help lose all attachment to the significance of the

building, crowded as I was amongst a throng of tourists, listening to them whistle more interested in hearing their own echoes than the memory of the person buried underneath. Because no-one respects or cares about Mumtaz Mahal anymore, the Taj Mahal is now more a tourist attraction than an important monument and I think that it is because of this disconnect between its original purpose and its present function that you can’t help feeling a little dejected upon finally reaching its centre – in fact I would advise you not to, it is better to simply appreciate it from the other side of the river and remember the former glory of the Mughal days. Because at the heart of this great monument lies an unfillable empty space.

5. The Chrysler Building

Image via Wikipedia

The Chrysler Building

Burnished steel and elegant proportions – that’s why I nominate this building as the greatest skyscraper. It’s not the tallest and I think that there might exist some skyscrapers with even more elegant proportions (although none that I've ever seen), but the burnished steel cap on the top just makes this one a real gem! Steel is one of those fantastic materials that are just great. Great to look at, great to touch, great to think about because the very word has all sorts of great connotations about strength and solidity. I don’t know why some materials are simply more aesthetically pleasing than others – but it’s a fact, some just are: glass bottles although heavier and more expensive to produce are simply nicer than plastic ones, stone blocks always beat concrete, a beer that you’ve seen poured from a wooden barrel will taste nicer than one from a metal cask and no amount of concrete or render or paint can beat the polished shine of burnished steel.

Does this building deserve to be in the list? I really like skyscrapers and I think this is the best one, but does the number one skyscraper beat the third or fourth best castle or cathedral? Well, that’s the question.

Do you disagree with my definitive list? Please feel free to leave a comment - even if you're reading this blog weeks from when it was published, there's no such thing as necroposting on this blog as far as I'm concerned.

The Pop-up Top

Where has the recent trend for pop-up tops in water bottle lids arisen from? Who likes them? I can’t stand the pop-up top and don’t see any benefits it might have against the old-fashioned screw-on lids.

I hate the way pop-out tops release their water so slowly into your mouth – if you’re thirsty you want a drink of water, not a suckle of mother’s milk from a modern artificial teat! The worst culprit I’ve come across so far was an olive-oil style drizzler from an Evian brand water bottle. This puritan Comptroller-General of water rationing took the “everything in moderation” motto so far as to only grudgingly release drops of its precious contents onto your tongue. The slow drip of water falling onto my tongue when drinking from this bottle reminded me of the punishment Hades conferred on Tantalus in Greek mythology – there I was with a gushing 600mL of water so close and yet as I tried to drink it receded into a mere dribble.

Of course there’s a really simple solution to my problem: just un-screw the pop-up top as if it were a normal top. But although useless as a means of delivering refreshment, these pop-up tops are nevertheless superior at coming open inside your bag and slowly but surely fertilising all paper products and any dormant mould spores with a healthy spring shower. Which if left overnight will leave your bag with the delightful verdant smell of new life.

 But all this begs the question: what purpose do pop-up tops truly serve? I fear the answer has something to do with marketing different water products to different consumers in such a way as to get the maximum out of those willing to pay more without losing those customers who aren’t. Because some people will pay more for something they don’t need if it differentiates itself as somehow better “quality” whilst others can’t afford to.

Image via Wikipedia

Tantalus - tantalisingly close to fruit and water

From this frivolous complaint I could make a serious environmental point on a wasteful society – pointless production and pointless consumption all in the name of marketing. But then that would lead us onto the question of why we’re bottling water and transporting it to different locations around the world in the first place.

The Perfect Tuscany Escape

Image via Tom Häkkinen
One of Florence's innumerable beautiful streets

or
How we nailed Tuscany!

I am immensely pleased with our recent trip to Italy. Every moment was gold and we left with no regrets except perhaps how much we spent. Maybe, this is just Tuscany, and everyone feels like this after going there, but having had difficulties with trips to similarly “romantic” destinations, I would like to think that good planning and maybe a little luck also played a part and that is what this blog is going to be about.

My initial conclusion after the trip was that the little Tuscan town of Lucca would be the greatest place in the universe if only the Lucchese spoke French and not Italian. I’m not sure now – as beautiful as French is, you can’t have the whole world speaking French – but nevertheless I’m not ready to say that Lucca beats Avignon in Provençe. In either case, it’s a close call and Lucca is a big part of why our trip to Tuscany worked so well.

But first: some background

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A street in Pisa

Italy is the home of the Romans and like most westerners who know some history I have a passion for that unassuming republic which became an Empire. Furthermore, when the Roman Empire collapsed and Europe fell into the dark ages, it was also small Italian city-states that gave birth to the flourishing of Arts and Sciences, inspired by Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece, known as the Renaissance. So I find it bizarre that when Italians have such a rich cultural background, particularly in what is considered “high culture”, that you’ll find t-shirts with “Il Padrino” and a tommy-gun wielding Marlon Brandow on them in tourist shops in Italy. And likewise Italian cab-drivers in England and overseas will have the theme-song from the Godfather tinnily ringing out as their mobile phone ringtone. Italians seem to have no idea how blessed they are with such a rich cultural history and yet for some unfathomable they identify mostly with an American gangster.



Image via Tom Häkkinen
A famous Florentine

Perhaps for this reason I never had a great interest in travelling to Italy until I began studying French – that is, until the infectious enthusiasm of Stendhal and Dumas won me over to the land of the Ghibelline and Guelph, of condottieri and cardinals. And so, I became fascinated with the birthplace of the renaissance – Florence.

In travelling to Italy this world of renaissance splendour was the image of Italy that I had in the back of my head. And this passion for the Florentine Renaissance conditioned my expectations of Italy – travelling with my partner I wanted to arrive mysteriously like Edmond Dantès and to live like an aristocratic Italian count and countess and pretend to be liberal patrons of the arts and sciences.
To this end, art galleries and museums were in – but not too many! Nightlife was in – but not the cheap backpacker scene! Everything was to be sedate and relaxed and we were in search of “la dolce vita” and we wanted to discover “joie de vivre.”

So the Trip:

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The "Palazzo Tucci" in Lucca

First after a close reading of my Rough Guides Italy and a careful study of some maps and the Trenitalia website I decided to take a punt on staying at the “Palazzo Tucci” in Lucca rather than Florence. It turned out this was an inspired decision.

Whilst there are many hotels in Lucca, the “Palazzo Tucci” a “Residenza d’Epoca” or historic residence suited our aims perfectly. Its name is in no-way misleading, it essentially is a restored palace, presumably that of a noble Lucchese family. And although, it was more of a bed and breakfast than a four-star hotel – it was a bed and breakfast in a palace! The enormous ceilings with painted frescoes and massive “Juliet” balcony out the front really did make you feel like a Renaissance aristocrat.

Lucca is not far, only half an hour on the train, from Pisa and Pisa International Airport (Pisa Galileo Galilei). Regardless of whether you fly easyJet or British Airways, Pisa is a significantly cheaper route into Tuscany than Florence. And whilst you’re in Pisa you may as well take the opportunity to get some shots of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, although I have to admit that I don’t really like the building (it leans!).

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Michelangelo's "David" in the Accademia di Belle Arti Firenze

Likewise, Lucca is not too far from Florence for you to be able to visit an art gallery or two on a day-trip. Someone out there has probably choked on a pretzel and is in desperate need of the Heimlich manoeuvre having just read “Florence” and “on a day trip” in the same sentence but I’ll give my reasons. Whilst Florence is so overwhelmingly beautiful that at times it feels like it is more packed with beautiful buildings and monuments than the entirety of a New World country like Australia put together – it can sometimes feel like it’s likewise packed with Australia’s national quota of tourists as well. You have to book admission into famous galleries like the Uffizi and Accademia days in advance. Every street corner seems to have a beautiful statue or fountain and every street is lined with beautiful Italian buildings – but likewise each street corner is crowded with tourists taking shots and buying Gelatti as well. So for this reason I’m not sure if it’s possible to be able to visit the same Florence that Stendhal fell in love with. You can’t actually lose yourself in the magic and glamour of the city. It’s like an action film filled with glaring physically-impossible stunts – the “suspension of disbelief” keeps being broken by the inconsistent physical properties of a super-hero’s weapon or in the case of Florence by a mass of tourists cackling loudly with that raucous Miss-Magpie-laughter so peculiar to the English language.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Lucca from atop the Torre Delle ore

This is why Lucca is such a perfect alternative. Lucca is a compact, walled, Tuscan town. From the top of the Torre Delle ore the town looks like it has just stepped-out of a San Remo pasta ad. The city also seems quite well-heeled and it doesn’t have any of the rundown look that affects parts of Pisa. But most important of all – it has nothing of the feel of a “tourist destination”, there’s no McDonalds anywhere, no tacky tourists shops selling bottles of olive oil shaped like the tower of Pisa. You don’t have to worry about breaking the suspension of disbelief because there is no suspension of disbelief – you’re in it and it is authentic!