Florence is truly a madhouse during peak tourist season. It is so beautiful but the crowds are maddening and it seems a major draw for the "Ugly American." You know the type. Anyhow, it's pretty hard to find a room or so we thought. We called from the train station in Rome and managed to get a room at this place called the Cuppola. Well we quickly dubbed it the "cat claw" after I found a cat claw in my bed sheets. It was hot and stuffy and allergenic in there. Close to be being terrible.

Our first order of business was finding another place to stay because we quickly found out that there are tons of places to stay. You just have to search them out. We found a much larger and airier room a block away for a bit more money.

The next order of business was getting some food and drink. Refrigeration tends to be a problem on these trips. End up drinking cheap warm Moretti beer. Saw the Duomo. Impressive as always. Also were on a mission to find Steph's friend Eddie, an owner of a hotel in town. Found Eddie later that night and invited his friend Daniele over for some wine and spumante. It was a good time.

Next day went to the Ufizi Gallery. I could spend half a day easily in this place. So much to see.

We walk along the Arno and shop and in the leather market where I get Steph a purse and myself a belt. We cross the Ponte de Vecchio and look for somewhere to eat . We find a bar instead and have a few drinks. Seems like a pretty local bar. Kind of hip. After a few we head on out and end up who knows where but we are hungry. We go into this restaurant and sit down. Almost every single person in there is American - not a good sign. It actually isn't to bad and the waiter is pretty cool. After a couple bottles of wine we're getting loose and give him a couple of shots. I notice this guy sitting at the table behind us with a large group staring at us a lot. He seems older and kind of haggard. They split. The waiter comes over all excited. "Did you know who that was?" he says.

"No," we chant.

"That was David Byrne from the Talking Heads."

No wonder he was staring, he probably was confused we didn't recognize him. Ego. We could of cared less who he was and ordered more wine.

Man, were we tired after that. Early pass out for the journey tomorrow to Brugge through Milan. Should be interesting if we can hook up an overnighter from Milan. Nothing really leaves from Florence, Milan is the hub.

On to Brugge »