Our final morning in Rome. We took a last walk around the neighborhood (last walk this trip, Tenar and I decided). One of the stands on our market street was selling old lamp prisms. I had an impossible time understanding the price. Was it four for 2€ each, or one for 3€ each. Did I have to buy four? The vendor and I were definitely lost in translation. I finally said I only wanted one. He said take it, no charge. Or something to that effect. I said, "really, zero"? With eyebrows raised. He nodded, so I walked off, holding my prism up to the sun.
We went "home", got our bags, and got on the #910 bus for our last ride to Stazione Termini. I purchased two first class tickets on the express train to Florence. The ride was comfortable, there was an outlet to charge my Blackberry, and we wrote in our journals. I was starting to doze off, when the train pulled into Florence. For Tenar, who's used to 2-4 day trips on the train, the shortness of the trip was quite a surprise.
I'd emailed Carlo, our Florence apartment contact while on the train, so had the address to give the taxi driver. Carlo's only means of transportation is a bike, I'm pretty sure, so no train station pick up for us. The trip was short, across the Arno River, to 119 Via di San Niccolo, where we met Carlo and gained entry to the apartment. It's an old building built in the 1500's. The front door is arched, high and made of thick wood. It looks like the entry to a castle. And typical for Florence. Behind that are tall, heavy, wrought iron gates, and behind those is a double glass door. At the end of the marble hall is a small, almost invisible small door that is wood but has been painted/plastered over to match the wall. The wall looks like an addition added later to separate two parts of a typical Florentine courtyard. It looks like a door to a storeroom, but when opened, the other half of the courtyard comes into view, with soaring arches and columns. We're going to be safe here. It takes us three keys to get into our apartment, and there's a doorman of sorts. He doesn't open the door, but keeps an eye out while watching television in the room by the front door. I know because I can wave to him through his small window as we leave each day. The walls of the apartment are about two feet thick and both windows look into lovely private gardens, inaccessible to us, unfortunately. It's a great place with both WiFi and a computer we can use.
Once settled, we headed out for a little sight-seeing. We didn't go far, but did make it to the famous Ponte Vecchio. This bridge is for pedestrians only, and lined with shops; shops filled with gold and diamonds and other jewels. Hereafter, I refer to it as the Golden Bridge. We returned to our neighborhood to find a place to eat. We found a sweet little place at the east end of our block called Antica Mescita San Niccolo, where we both had Rigatoni with Ragu. I highly recommend it. We chatted with the people next to us who were Japanese, visiting from Boston. On the other side of was another English-speaking gentleman. In spite of we tourists who were there, this did have the feel of a neighborhood restaurant. An older gentleman was spotted at the door and the young waitress went to open the door for him and help him in. She then sat with him and explained the menu, almost nose to nose with him and, of course, using hand gestures. It was a very sweet sight.
We then went home down the cobblestone street, unlocked our three doors, and tucked ourselves in for the night.
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