Okay, so after the strain of feeling like complete idiots who couldn’t communicate for 20 hours, we were glad to return to Roma to catch a fast train to Florence. We forgot to get lunch, and we had 8 minutes before the train started, so I sprinted off with a ten euro note, found a couple of vending machine packaged sandwiches, and hopped back on the train just in time. Then we found out they had food car on the train. Oh well. Derek has always wanted to eat vending machine sandwiches since seeing a NewsRadio episode about them. (????) Wow–we stepped off the train here in TOURIST CENTRAL. We’re staying where Rick Steves stays, Casa Rabati, run by a little old Florentine Grandma who looks and acts straight out of a movie.
Interesting point–I’m noticing that the Italian-American culture I love in my in-laws (and portrayed in movies and tv) doesn’t seem to mesh with how Italians really act. We’re more exaggerated than they in some things, and understated in others. For one thing, most Americans have gotten over thinking that smoking is cool. Everyone here still thinks so. We can be eating a lovely meal in a piazza, then suddenly some well-dressed jerk next to me lights up. I miss being able to cough and hack and guilt him into snuffing it out like at home.
Not too much here yet, just watching the thousands of tourists, running into the Hillsdale College old person tour (yes, we talked to Dr Arnn), and eating a mediocre meal. But the outside of the Duomo is beautiful, and we’re going inside tomorrow! And the gelato is great. =)