fine settimana all'italiana

Saturday after Giuseppe had gotten up and we’d showered and found our respective keys, we went to the café to check e-mail and get some espresso. (Which, by the way, even though is stronger here is so much better. I still only drink it when I need to wake up. Same goes for cappuccino.) We went to lunch at this panini place that Henk had found. Sadly the time he took me there it was closed. But it was open now and was great.

I spent the afternoon icing my knee and napping since I hadn’t gotten that much sleep the night before. ‘Seppe woke me up in time to go to aperitivo at the bar/cafe I live at. I’ve already befriended the baristas, now I just need to get in with the bartender. We caught the tail end of the Milan/Parma game, which ended in a tie. The aperitivo was good. Red wine. Finger sandwiches, Italian sliced meats, olives, bread. I was tempted to make an imitation muffuletta.

We also made a stop at a clothing store. The mannequins which are the Italian standard are ridiculous. They’re all two inches skinnier than Giuseppe (whose waist is 30, max) and two inches taller than me (5’10). I have seen no one in this country with those proportions and am pretty sure no such man exists. But the clothes, of course, were nice.

I spent part of the night watching Divorzio all'italiana, which is an Oscar winner, highly entertaining, and not too optimistic regarding marriage. Giuseppe’s longtime friend Laura is visiting. The two of them just stayed in to get ready for a busy day today, but Henk, Juan, and I went out. We started at Kikuya, which is a great bar that has an Italian location, a Japanese(?) name, Irish beers on tap, and Brazilian music. One of the baristas at my café/bar apparently works nights there, and she hooked us up with nachos. Those just made us hungry for more food, so we went to the Mediterranean place near the apartment for gyros and mirsarasemi (a Persian dip new to me, it involves grilled eggplant, garlic, onion, tomato, and egg). Then we adjourned to Salamaca, the Spanish-tapas-restaurant-by-day / Latin-club-bar-by-night next door. I didn’t stay very long to give my knee a rest, but it was more fun than the first time we went when it was too packed to breathe.

Now it’s almost noon on Sunday. I’m at the café/bar online of course. So here’s something kind of crazy. The “church” we’ve been going to for mass is actually a Franciscan basilica. AND I just realized it’s the burial place of Machiavelli, Galileo, and Michelangelo. I knew they were buried at a church here in Florence but not at my neighborhood church. Craziness.