Barb's Big Trip: Second Day in Florence

Okay, so jet lag ate away my planned morning of coffee at Chiaroscuro, so when I finally got up and dressed after noon, I immediately headed to planned lunch destination of I Fratelli, home of cheap but delicious sandwiches near the Duomo, due to close for their August vacation in a couple days, so no dilly dallying for me. Walked through the tourists swarming the Duomo (that's one fine-lookin' Duomo, though!), stood in line and ordered a number 19, which would be the wild boar salami and butter sandwich. That along with a tiny little glass of Chianti cost a mere 4 Euro, surely the best bargain in town. Everyone gets their stuff and just sits on the curb of a narrow little lane that you think is pedestrian-only until some vehicle ends up scooting by scaring the bejeezus out of everyone. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my stop -- sandwich delicious, Chianti top-notch, curb comfortable, book excellent (thanks to Rusty and Charles recommendation -- reading Rule of the Bone, which...rules).

Surely the most pleasure 4 Euro can give you:


Folks lining up for them samiches:


After lunch came pleasant wandering around the Duomo and Oltrarno neighborhoods. Amazing how if you're in the shade and in an amazing city that's hundreds of years old, you really don't mind that it's a million degrees and that your pinkie toe is killing you. You even don't mind being accosted by a little twirp of a Moroccan trying to put the make on you. You just keep walking and looking at all the old, old, beautiful but decaying buildings. You look at the cheesy tourist shops and you ogle at the stunning high-end craft shops. You scope out the Museo Zoologico Specola and Boboli Gardens but save them for another day and a healed toe. You stop frequently at any cafe that looks charming and have an espresso or an acqua frizzante. Or both.



Then you indulge in one of the main reasons to come to Florence. No, not David. Not the Duomo. Not Botticelli. I'm talking gelato. G-E-L-A-T-O. That stuff that makes ice cream look like, um, something that's not near as good as gelato. Confirmed for the nth time that chocolate and pistachio are the best combination.



Then walked home, had a rest, played a little cello (though tentatively and with practice mute firmly in place -- can't really bust the moves 'til I get to tomorrow's lodging), ventured out for a non-noteworthy dinner (intended destination has either gone under or is closed for August) of Pizza Gamberini. Wish I'd gotten a picture of the kitty running along the rooftops, though. You'll have to imagine it.

Oh, and since there's no one but me to take pictures of me, it's time for my daily self-portrait-in-mirror: