We have finally arrived...

after two plane flights, two train trips, and countless hours sent lolli-gagging around airports and train stations. All I can say is, if you can spare the money to commute directly to Florence, DO IT! But if you don't...it's not so bad? And, I should not complain -- both me and Jen wore good luck talismans, and they worked! Not a single leg of the trip gave us any problems, it was just quite the expedition. It also afforded me the opportunity to people watch, which I always enjoy. Two things I noted: 1) much like Puerto Rico, many italian grandma's dress like their teenage daughters, and 2) italian babies are freakin adorable. Also, I watched a beggar beg for money...to buy a cappucino. Classic.

After 21 hours spent in transit, two very weary girls arrived at the doorstep of our Florence apartment. The apartment itself is teensy, but very cute. A glorified studio really, with one open room (more or less) serving as the bedroom, kitchen, dinning room, and living area. The bathroom is separate and surprising large, with a toilet and bidet...should I want to pee like a parisian. AND, we have a balcony, which I suspect will become the most popular place in our abode.

We live rather close to a church with REAL BELLS apparently, not just a recording (Meag, I know you will be gratified to hear that). I enjoy the ringing of the hours as it reminds me of the grandfather clock my parents own, which I grew up listening to. However, what I DON'T like is when the bells peele like mad at 7:15 am. Not 7, not 8, not even 7:30, but 7:15! And it was not musical or charming in the least; it was as if Igor Stravinsky had gotten really drunk and decided to play with the bells for a while. Fingers crossed it was some mad hunchback let loose in the bell-tower, and not an everyday thing.

If any of you darlings out there want a postcard, please send me an email with addy! Kisses!