Chubby flying babies

Some hosteling adventures from days past. When, two days ago, I arrived in Florence there were next to no hostel beds available. I ended up in a pretty decent little hotel that did not get my reservation information for some reason. It was after midnight and my eyelids were heavy so I agreed to pay the extra 10 euro for the private room with two beds and the flickering single light bulb in the bathroom. Twenty minutes after I unpack theres a knock at the door. The hostess in a combination of Spanish and Italian (we spoke well in Spanish as she spoke no English) told me that there were three gentlemen who were cued in the doorway behind her in need of a room. I took a look over shoulder to see three young dark haired student types peering back at me. If they could stay with me I would get a discount in the morning for my trouble she explained. I was just in need of a place to sleep and was of no mind to send anone to the same fate so I let them in as they looked around the little room as we all shook hands and nodded smiles at each other. One of the kids who spoke English told me they were from Rome and came to Florence to see a concert of a local musician that was a lot like Bob Dylan. After I helped park the car of the English speaker which involved a half hour of winding around the early morning streets of Florence we got back to the room where all three kids took off their sneakers and packed into the little queen sized bed. It was like the Italian Three Stooges from the view I had from my spacious bed.

Just a day in the life of my usual .5 star hotel.

Lunch in Sienna today was another work of master craftsmanship. Papardelle with wild boar ragu, a plate of garlicky grilled artichokes, and a thick slice of pecorino fresco. I ordered a Chianti for my meal and got a whole bottle. I don't know how the waitress thought I could drink all that but at 7 Euro I wasn't going to argue. I finished nearly the whole thing and got back into the piazza with the world swirling above and around me.

Sienna is a beautiful town of tight high walled streets that rests on a crest of three mountain ridges. In the middle of the town is a wide expansive piazza that is shaped like a clam shell complete with a gently sloping grade toward the hinge. In the summer they have a massive horse race around the piazza with the whole town looking on. Every coffee shop has black and white photos of the horses rounding the sharp corners of the piazza with at least one horse in the midst of a full-on train wreck and the jockey air borne. The town is what I pictured Florence to be in my mind with its medieval look and quiet streets that look out onto the undulating Tuscan countryside.

There was a little fry shop in the piazza that was making these little munchkin like donuts that were sprinkled with caster sugar. The batter was something made from rice or rice flour but the middle was just set and this was yet another incredibly delicious treat in my daily menu.


buonizzil capizzil

Bob N. Weeve