Into Every Life, A Little Rain Must Fall. . .

So we drove into Florence with the rain coming down. Saw a wrecked motorcycle and its somewhat stunned rider being comforted by some people. Moments later an ambulance came racing up.

In moments, there was a somewhat stunned driver of the Big Blue Monster. Tom Tom was actually working well, but with the excitement of the wrecked motorcycle, I missed the correct turn off the circle (“there were six roads leading off the circle,” he writes in a somewhat defensive manner), so we took narrow streets made for people and horses, not the BBM. At a couple of point, we had to pull in the side view mirrors just to fit through. Good fun.

Eventually made it to the hotel (Hotel de la Ville). I parked Italian style in front (the back was partway onto the street) and we unloaded the bags quickly, and went to check in. (The girls are great at hustling up on this kind of stuff – we unload the car quicker than a NASCAR pit car change).

The disdainful desk clerk (I think he was trained in Paris) checked us in, and showed me how to get to the rental car agency. Carol and the girls headed upstairs, while I braved the streets of Florence once again. Tom Tom wouldn’t take me to the rental car return location (John Madden once said, “irony can be so ironic.”), so I had to follow the map sketch that Casper the Unfriendly Desk Clerk made. (To be fair, he answered every question we asked. . .just not with any interest or positive perspective.)

Anyhow, I had some trouble deciphering some notes, so I pulled a Chevy Chase (the comedian, not the city) and went round a piazza a couple times (there are two ways in, and one way out). Several times on the drive I just stopped to consult the map. Renaissance art is famous for its curves. I believe they were inspired by the fact that NONE of the roads are straight.

Despite my best efforts to get lost, I ended up on the right street and found Europacar. Stepping out of the car, I kissed the ground (actually no, but the thought crossed my mind). The guy came out to check the gas and inspect for damages. He comes back in – “all good.” I didn’t say, “but what about the scratch where I scraped the pole in San Gimignano?” Instead I turned and left. (To be fair to the guy – and me, the list of pre-existing scrapes, dents and scratches was far longer than I’ve ever seen on a rental agreement, rivaling the Bill of Rights in length.)

A stroll back to the hotel through the light rain was refreshing, and soon it was time for dinner. Two restaurants had been recommended to us in Florence. Casper the Unfriendly Desk Clerk (not his real name) dismissed one as being too far, but strongly approved of the other. It was full up though, so he recommended a restaurant a few streets away – Oliviero.

Anyhow, dinner was good, and I once again ordered an excellent bottle of wine (Cerviolo 2000, a Tuscan blend from Castellina in Chianti. The wine presentation was the most elaborate we’ve ever seen. After opening the bottle, he used the foil to smartly tie the cork to the top of the bottle. Then, he poured a bit of the wine into various sized decanters (and our glasses), before pouring it all into one decanter and allowing me a taste (or something like that – it was a very ornate process). The restaurant specialized in novella Tuscan cuisine, with both traditional dishes and new Tuscan dishes.

We both had pumpkin ravioli (which was good, but not as good as in Radda), Carol had the lamb, and I had the loin of veal stuffed with Parma ham. The food was elaborately presented on the plate, and I really enjoyed the loin of veal.

Foodie alert: the lamb in Italy seems okay, but not quite of the caliber of Scottish/English/Irish lamb.

We walked over to the nearby Ponte Vecchio, crossed the river, and got gelatto at the shop at the end of the Ponte Vecchio (the jewelry shops were all closed). We wandered back to the hotel after a relaxing evening.

Then, it was the night to forget. Our hotel rooms were on two separate floors, but connected by a staircase. We started with the girls sleeping down below. It got quite hot in the upper room, so we finally opened a two story window that gave us easy access to the motorcycles, scooters, and drunks making noise below. Maddy and Torie were having trouble sleeping, so there was lots of bustling around (without much rest). Around 3 in the morning, I went down to ask how to turn on the air conditioning in the room. Not possible.

Finally, Carol went downstairs were it was cooler, and Torie slept in our bed.

We were all pretty grumpy the next morning. Breakfast was a glare-fest between parents and kids. Kids and kids. Husband and wife. It promised to be a superfabulous day! After Volterra yesterday, we seemed to be in a slump.