I ran
on three hours of sleep today. This
obsessive blogging habit has kept me up late.
Good thing I’m in a country with amazing espresso. I swear, coffee here is half the price of Starbucks
and ten times better. Figures.
I’m
trying to get a decent sleep tonight, so I’ll really try to keep it short and
sweet. I know I said that in the last
blog and ended up writing a novel, but tonight I’m serious. Short and sweet. Just how all us Facebook addicts like it.
We all
packed and ate breakfast in a hurry to leave for Florence. We took a thirty minute boat ride and about a
two hour bus ride. The bus was manual
transmission, which was pretty neat. I desperately
tried to sleep, but ended up reading.
Note: Pit
stops in Italy are quite superior to American pit stops. They’ve got gigantic candy, gigantic stuffed
animals, and two licensed baristas that serve up any caffeinated drink you can
dream of.
Before
we got to our hotel, David recommended we eat lunch before we had to meet up to
tour around. “I personally recommend lampredotto. It’s
a sandwich found only in Florence and it’s delicious. I’m going to be blunt with you though, lampredotto is fourth stomach of cow. It’s
not for everyone.”
The crowd gave mixed reactions, but
all I could think was how I wanted to DEVOUR that stomach. I asked my family if they were going to try
it. They all said no. Regardless, after settling in our rooms, we
went directly to the local market to find it.
We ran into David in line, and he recommended how to order it. I followed his instructions. And it was tasty
as hell. Sure, it kind of had a slimy
texture to it, but it was tender and flavorful.
Definitely getting a second stomach sandwich tomorrow.
We met up around noon and went on a
tour of Florence with a local guide. It
was all gorgeous, but it was so hot that I began to space out on what the tour
guide was saying. After the tour ended
we watched a demonstration on Italian leathermaking, in which we learned how to
distinguish fake leather from real leather.
We had free time afterwards, so we got more gelato and listened to a
classical guitarist play gorgeous music.
Basilica of the famed Duomo
After finishing gelato, we walked
around, took pictures, and looked at ritzy jewelry that was way out of our
price range. And then we went back to
the hotel around 6:00 to meet up with our group for dinner. This was probably the highlight of the night.
We took a fifteen minute walk to a
restaurant that we nearly filled up. We
were quickly served food with ice cold water and red wine. And then David stood up and tapped his knife
on his wine glass until we were quiet.
“I’m gonna do something crazy,” He said. The whole room went silent. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and
began to sing Italian opera a’capella. He
had the voice of an angel, and followed all the proper singing etiquette I had
picked up through the years. We were
all completely enchanted. After he finished the crowd erupted with applause. My father was in tears. And my mouth stood ajar. He sat down as if he hadn’t just graced us with
his singing. And the dinner continued.
But that isn’t where it ends.
Later on, as we were finishing up
our meal, an older Italian man sitting at the head of another table stood up and
lead us in an Italian song for toasting.
After he finished we lifted our glasses, drank to his health, and
applauded loudly. And then he challenged
us to top him. Our crowd urged David to
stand up and sing. And he did. He walked up in front of the entire
restaurant, all of which hadn’t been there before. He stood there for a moment, focused in, and
opened his mouth. And out came yet
another glorious Italian song. He held a
note so long and beautifully that the crowd erupted in cheers. He quieted them with a gesture of the hands
and went on singing. He brought the song
to a fantastic finish and bowed as we gave him a standing ovation.
We went back to the hotel after our
meal, where my Mom and Chelsea decided to rest up. The night was still young and I wanted to
explore, so I urged my Dad to join me on an adventure. We walked around Florence at night and
stopped at a bar on impulse. And I
bought us a round of drinks. When would
I ever get another opportunity like that at the age of 20?
As we finished our drinks an older
fat Italian man slowly walked in. I
lowered my voice. “Do you think he’s drunk?” “Either that or he’s mentally retarded.” “Or both.”
We chuckled as he dumped his change on the counter to purchase his
drink. And then we were off.
Most of the shops were closed, so
we wandered around town and talked about life and everything in between. And then we sat on the steps of a church to
watch yet another brilliant classical guitarist perform. Only in Florence. She finished and bowed after a few songs, and
we got up to wander back to the hotel. I
saw even more amazing street art on the way, and I stopped every time I spotted
some to take a picture. I think I’m
obsessed. We found our hotel after some
searching, and parted ways for bed.
As I was finishing up my blog, I was joined in the hotel lobby by two drunken older ladies and their older male friend. They were American. One was relatively sober and the other was pretty wasted. She was loud and tried to get her friend to drink more. It was their last night here. I occasionally glanced over to see what was going on. The sober lady, who I now know as Ruby, spoke up. C'mon Carol, we should give this boy some peace and quiet. I laughed and told them I didn't mind. I learned Carol was from Oakland and Ruby was from New Jersey. "We just randomly decided to do some travelling." We continued some small talk. "Do you want some wine? We have some wine left that we can't finish. It's not amazing wine, but we can't take it with us and don't want it to go to waste. I told them I would love some wine. Ruby told her husband Roy to go upstairs and get it. As Roy brought the nearly full bottle to the lobby table, Ruby slipped past the rope blocking the hotel bar and got me a glass. I thanked them graciously. Ruby and Roy eventually went upstairs, and Carol wandered over and plopped on the couch next to me. We had a nice chat about Italy, and soon enough she was off. I wished her a safe flight and said goodbye. And that Jersey fucker said Americans were rude. Pfft.
Lucas
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