A side door to the Duomo was open, a roped entry and hand sanitizer in evidence. There was a tent heralding the Aeronatica. We approached the door and our temperature was recorded. There were less than 50 people in the church, all distanced in pews. There was a mass going on, and an official type came to suggest we pray over “here”. He led us to a pew directly beneath Brunelleschi’s dome. Tilting our heads back (our minder disappeared), we could examine it in all its glory. At first we thought we were at a funeral, but then it became apparent this was a celebration for the Madonna di Loreto, the patron saint of the Italian Air Force. We admired the Last Supper in front of us (Florence was a big Cenicola city, in advance of Leonardo in Milan). Suddenly, the coronets sounded and music commenced. We thought it best to beat our retreat.
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