Firenze's Inferno

What sins did I refuse to recognize.  Did I covet dollars beyond my means, boast laziness and spew wrath. No doubt the summer brought unnecessary lust and gluttony.  Yet, did two accomplished sins with five remaining questionable require the temporary judgment to the depths of European climate hell. 

Dante, native son of Florence, journeys to the sizzling underworld in his Divine Comedy and warns us to see self-indulgence, violence and maliciousness for what it really is.  On the streets of Tuscany, I possessed no coherence, no wherewithal to comprehend or even contain a fleeting thought about my sins in the dizzying array of sweat blurred eyes, fire-burned skin and near self-destructing heat stroke. 

What I did recognize, though, was one universal truth.  Do not travel to Firenze in the summer.  Saint or sinner, you will burn. 

Inherently, Firenze encompasses the word "fire" and one should possess full awareness that yes, it is hhhhhot as hell in the summer time.  But if you manage to mentally prepare yourself to brace the heat and venture outdoors, it proves smart to sprint right over to one of the many indoor, seriously AC'd religious, artistic or historic attractions.   In fact, there seem seven quite heavenly ways to spend your time...

Lust:  The statue David, within the Accademia dell'Arte does not disappoint and is actually quite awesome.  Michelangelo carves his hero to perfection leaving no detail unturned and a viewer and non-artist much impressed. (This outdoor version mimics the more grandiose indoor masterpiece). 

Greed: Both the Salvatore Ferragamo museum, where you will learn more than you need to on mind-bogglingly expensive shoe-making for celebs, stars and the obscenely wealthy and the Pointe Vecchio, infamous for its lined windowed jewelry stores, will make you actually consider joining the seedy corporate rat race in America for those oh so precious green hundred dolla bills. 

Wrath:  Wineries are not open on Sunday in most of the Chianti region so renting a car, driving aimlessly along winding and maze-like gravel roads through the countryside while cursing and gesturing at the Italians wish to rest on this day of the lord will not satiate the alcoholic in you.  But if you can manage your frustration, the views along the lost highways produce enchanting mental escapes. 

Sloth: Rent an AC'd apartment with a large balcony on the River Arno and simply sit and sleep all day without a care in the world.

Envy:  Resenting toned, thin, fit Italian women while you scarf down heaps and loads of their native delicacies proves unavoidable.  So, simply voodoo doll them in your mind and enjoy your meal. 

Gluttony:  See Envy.  Americans can't stop themselves in the U.S. so why even ponder the thought of dieting in fresh, luscious food-producing Italy. 

And at the end of it all, climb the steps of the majestic Duomo.  Pray, wash and beg your sins away...mostly, for your pride at boasting about your trip to Europe and then burning on its streets like the devil.  Karma is a bitch in every religion.