When in Rome, you go somewhere else....

Or technically before you go to Rome, you decide to go somewhere else. This weekend, we had every intention to go to Rome, but because of the heat wave that hit the city this week (oh my gosh, I am a melted puddle of hoo as I am typing this) and the waves and waves of tourists that have been mulling around on the sidewalks, Brittney and I decided it might be better to go somewhere a little more low key this weekend. Not to mention, I am having museum overload because of my renaissance art class.

Speaking of, we had our midterm this week. It went all right. The “class” had a study session at the school’s restaurant the night before and I met my new friend Paul. Before anyone thinks anything, he is thirty and has a wife. He is getting his masters, and the school he is attending is giving him credit for spending the summer in Florence. As he said “Why not go to Florence if I get credit for it?” In a class of a lot of people who get really disrespectful in these museums, it was nice to find a person who just genuinely enjoys soaking it all in. I enjoy soaking it all in, it is just a lot to soak in. Even sponges start dripping eventually. Did that make sense? It’s really hot so I might be delirious.

But alas, Paul and I studied for a couple hours. Then I did some studying on my own. The stuff I studied I knew really well. When we were taking the test, it appeared as if there were some things that I SHOULD have studied but didn’t.

As a reward for finishing my midterm, and Lily finishing her paper, we went out last night to my favorite restaurant in Florence. It may be dumb not to try something new considering I have only two more weeks, but I got the pear ravioli that I mentioned about a week ago. Seriously, so good. Afterwards we went to Grom, which is a gelateria I hadn’t tried yet. I got two flavors in my little cup. One was salted caramel (oh my good gosh DEEEE-lish), but then in an attempt to say “I at least took a little pity on my stomach,” I got raspberry sorbet (dairy-free). Also delicious, but the caramel is above and beyond my favorite flavor that I have tried in Florence. We sat next to the duomo and watched the people selling flying light up toys. It was a good night.

Which brings me to Friday. Cailin went to sicily for the weekend, so Brittney and I had free reign over the apartment. We both decided that we wanted to sleep in. She has class at 9 every morning across town, and this week I have taken to automatically waking up at 6 for a couple hours. Once we woke up, we both walked to the central market.

I got some peaches, and some parmesan. Now, remember that time I said I’m not a huge fan of cheese?

I lied.

I bought a hunk of cheese about the size of my fist, and within an hour and a half of being back at the apartment, it was reduced to the size of a bouncy ball.
Afterwards Brittney showed me a pastry shop that her class had tried one morning. I haven’t tried my pastry yet, but it is enticing me from the fridge as we speak. It looked a little like tiramisu. I know it wasn’t, but I couldn’t read the sign, so it will be a surprise! Hooray!

At this point in the day, the sky was at its peak, the tourists were out in force, and Brittney and I were officially HOT. We headed back to our apartment.

We also had one of the program coordinators coming to show off our apartment, so we had to be there when that took place. A representative from Baylor was visiting the school to see if she should recommend this program to her students. She seemed appalled that the apartments don’t have air conditioning. Welcome to Florence.

We asked our teacher in Art class why no apartments have air conditioning, and she said that the majority of people believe it to be unhealthy… unhealthy? Are you serious? I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many people I see smoking every day. Unhealthy…psh.

I’m not that bitter, It’s just that hot.

After lounging around, waiting for it to cool off, Brittney and I treated ourselves to…wait for it…Mcdonalds. Yeah. I was slightly ashamed, but I have been craving American food. Saturday it was back to pasta, but that night, we ate like queens, American, commercialized Queens.

Leaving mcdonalds, it was starting to cool off. The sky became overcast, and the rain was on its way. HOORAY AGAIN! We walked down some streets and window shopped for a bit, picking out things we knew we could never afford, but wanted to try on anyway.

Just by chance, maybe, we would try on a pair of truly inspired heels. A heel just chunky enough to protect our foot, and subsequently our knee’s integrity, but a heel slender enough to make us feel fabulous. Heels that would make your legs look 10 miles long, but classic enough that you could keep them forever. Heels that perfectly soundtrack your life as they clickety-clack over the cobblestone streets of Florence, but mysteriously never falter on the many uneven stones. Once you return home, heels that when asked by a frantically jealous passerby “Ohmygosh, wheredidyougetthoseshoes?” you are forced to respond “oh I’m so sorry, I got them in Florence, Italy,” and smirk as you walk away, remembering the balmy nights of Florence with a gelato in hand, waltzing over the Ponte Vecchio, your feet perfectly graced with your perfect, serendipitous, Florentine heels. Just by chance, if we find them, we will have to buy them.

(seriously, don’t judge me, its hot, I don’t know what I am typing/whining)

ANYWAY, the rain clouds came closer and closer, so we decided to head home and plan for the weekend. The program administrators, and the travel guide Daddy gave me, had recommended a day trip to a local town Fiesole, and to Fiesole we went!

To be continued!