Except that we arrived in Florence on Saturday - by train - and feeling our Wheaties we decided to pull our luggage (whoever invented wheels on luggage is the person I most admire in the universe) the 5 short blocks, according to our guide book, to our hotel...nevermind the streets were cobblestone (and whoever invented luggage wheels, while still highly esteemed, did not invent them to be pulled over cobblestones...or down steps...or up steps...or over sink holes, pot holes or dead pigeons) or that the person who wrote the guide book (Rick Steves) travels with a BACKPACK (which probably only contains a clean pair of tighty-whities and NOTHING else) and has no earthly idea how Stupido Americano's travel...HUMONGOUS suitcases stuffed with overpriced trinkets and all the wrong clothes! Yes my friends, that would be us...even though I left 6 magazines and a book (sorry Wendy, I'll buy you a new copy of the book you lent me!) in the hotel in Milano, along with a pair of shoes and hair curlers...oh please, a girl has needs, what if I HAD met George Clooney in Bellagio and my hair was sticking out all over? Then what?!? Yet despite removing those items from my bag it STILL weighed more than a car. Look closely at the above picture, inside the doorway - it's a self-portrait I quickly spray painted of myself as we were pulling our Volkswagens, I mean luggage, THE 5 SHORT BLOCKS to our hotel...graffiti is everywhere in Italy - apparently they invented graffiti shortly after they invented eggplant parmigiana!
Back to those 5 SHORT BLOCKS...it was NINE blocks Rick Steves! NINE! When we arrived at our hotel, looking like we'd just come from a hot yoga class, we had to pull our bags up TWO FLIGHTS OF STAIRS just to get to the front desk. (Oh, don't think less of the mister for not carrying my bags...he did offer to, but by the time he did I only had ONE STEP to go!)
We thought we had a reservation...but we were one day off...our reservation was for Sunday evening, not Saturday...and cancellations are not allowed...and there were no rooms at the inn. The mister, not being one to see the humor in things, wanted to kill me; the hotel clerk looked all too happy to act as his accomplice until I pointed out the rather good-looking Carabinieri right outside. The hotel clerk, heretofore known as Judas, found us a room across the street, but as we were only spending one night in Florence, tomorrow when we're in Sorrento we'll still be paying for a room in Florence! Tell me that's not just the teensiest bit funny!
Judas was quick to point out that "women do not always-a pay attenzione, but what can you do? It'sa the nature ova the beast!" I make one leetle mistake and you would have thought Tony Soprano met The Godfather...all-a-da-sudden-ev'ry-buddy-actin'-crazy-like-a-someone-a-slap-aahed their momma!
I'd like to point out that while Judas was working when we saw him, he probably didn't come to work until after 10:00 am, then took a long lunch, a longer siesta where he probably slept with his bosses wife, and then returned to work just in time to clock out for the day when we arrived, so maybe that's why he took the mister's side - doing his best to get him all riled up!
This is the kind of room you get when the entire city is booked...the shower, which only had half a door, was exactly as wide as the toilet...and the safe, pictured with the hotel key and the remote (which went to a TV that didn't work) to show you it's size, could possibly have held a pack of Juicy Fruit and a small caliber hand-gun, which I wish we'd had as our room door, while shut and locked, could easily have been pushed open by one of the many drunks we heard stumbling down the hall.
Aside from all of that, we are having a great time (which is why I posted the pic of us in Venice - on our way to meet the Merchant...you couldn't wipe the smile from my face! The mister prefers to smile on the inside, deep down inside where he doesn't know it!), we were able to see The Last Supper in Milan and the Grand Canal in Venice - both brought tears to my eyes...up next is Michaelangelo's David, in all his glory, followed by more pizza and gelato...the adventure continues...
