The first day we had to spend in florence, as opposed to just stopping to sleep there before rushing onward to Sardinia, was kind of a slow start. I was alone, because Sophie had caught some kind of bug and stayed in the hotel to rest. 7 days of raving was bound to catch up to us. I felt fine, so I went out walking. Brought her back some breakfast, and then continued on my way.
I wandered around and took bad photos of narrow streets in deep shadow close to our bnb. Got myself some breakfast, coffee and a croissant in a little cafe that was arty and pretentious in a way they never seem to be here any more; local art on the walls, a few benches and simple concrete tables. Very good coffee, like everywhere that served espresso in Italy. I sat in the little cafe and tried to make a plan for the day, a plan which I mostly threw out the window. The second cappuccino finally got my brain into gear and I was off, ready to actually move and groove. See the sights, take some photos.
I started by walking towards the Duomo, ate a really good ham sandwich at a place down the street from the place everyone was in line for, and just generally wandered in that area for a bit. Lot of high end shops, expensive watches and jewelry, fashion houses that have an outpost in Florence, that sort of thing. I was not in a mood to shop, not particularly, but the people watching is always pretty good in these areas.
Did I do anything else of note that day? Wandered, bought groceries, went back to our airbnb, which was right by the main train station. Sophie wasn’t feeling well still, and a test confirmed: it was COVID. There was a couch in our room, so I slept there and tried to isolate. I’d also gotten my bivalve booster a couple weeks before, so thought I might be safe. Turns out I was just a couple days behind her.
The long essay (about how long it takes to build something) is coming. It currently has that problem that a lot of my anecdotes have, in that it doesn’t have a neat ending. My friend Alex used to say, when I’d tell a story like that, that I should end it with ‘then I found five dollars,’ so people a) know it’s over and b) think there was a point to my meandering. The point really is just the meandering, though, and nothing else. Once, I did find $5 in the street, and sent him a picture of it. I think I laughed about that for a whole day.
