January 14, 2014

The keyboard has escaped throes of the mighty Arno river.  I put it on charge all last night and it seemed to improve its atitude.  A little, anyway.  : (

We've got a new guide here, Lisa, and she is a very nice woman.  She has worked in the textile industry for quite some time but is searching for a new gig.  The world's loss is our gain.

Lisa 

She takes us to the Ferragamo Shoe Museum (who knew that existed?) and it was very cool.  There were shoes there given to Marilyn Monroe (all sequin-y) and Judy Garland (rainbow-striped).  All sorts of shoe prototypes here, none larger than a size 5.  My  sister Patty would be in hog-heaven.  She loves Ferragamos and has little bitty feet.

Then a stroll through a rainy Florence street past yet another big honkin' church with naked marble people hanging all around; then to a little unassuming building were we found Michaelangelo's David.  

He is bigger than you'd think; and I asked Lisa what was in his hands. Well - it was a sling over his left shoulder and his left hand was grasping it, while his right hand was holding a big rock.  To whup up on Goliath.  I never knew that.  I'm thinking I like him better for knowing that.   He'd probably be a good hand to rely on in a fight.

Right hand - rock, Left shoulder, sling.

Random impressions of Italy - because I'll forget them if I don't write them down:

1 - we're staying in B&B's instead of hotels.  So things are a little bit different from one place to another.  But this much is common:  the doors to the rooms are sealed like bank vaults.  The door knobs are not in the sides of the door to accomodate the locks; rather, they're in the center of the door.  When you turn a key to open the door, it turns three separate tumblers that operate three separate bars to open the door.  And all the keys are funky.  It's not something you'd want to do in case of fire. I leave it to Jack and stand quietly to the side.  Some times it takes awhile.

Our apartment in Florence.  Cool, huh?

2 - There's no tipping in Italy.  People here that are in the waitservice business are paid a living wage. Makes me ashamed of where I live and the conditions the waitpeople live in at home.

3 - You'd have to know how to park really, really well to live in metro Italy.  And you'd have to drive a little, little car.  Trust me.