Hey! No Lagging!

It is morning in Florence.  I have been up since about six a.m., after going to bed a little before eight last night.  All three kids are still sleeping.

We had a long trip getting here.  Five minutes after pulling away from the gate at SFO, the pilot came on to say that the trim mechanism for the wings was not working properly, so we went back to the gate to get some necessary part replaced.  Takeoff was two hours late, and then a ten and a half hour flight to Frankfurt, being advised to "please hurry" to our connection, another hour long wait on the tarmac, a short hop to Florence, and there we were in the tiny Florence airport.  Now, all we had to do was call the apartment manager so he could meet us there to give us keys, etc.  hmmm...none of us had a phone.  No worries!  We will ask the information people where we can make a phone call. Hmmm...it is Sunday and the information desk is closed.  No worries!  There is a pay phone!  But how in the heck do we use it, and how many of the digits in this huge, long number I was given do we actually have to dial?  No worries!  We will just ask the taxi driver to make the call for us.  Out to the taxi line, and when our cab rolls up, I ask, "per favore, parla inglese?" and the driver says of course he speaks English, and all is well.  When we get close to the apartment, he calls the number and the meeting is arranged.  Then, we are dropped somewhere near the apartment, because there is a street fair going on and the cab cannot get to the address, and thank god the street names are posted on corner buildings, so we find our apartment and stand outside in the warm Tuscan sun waiting.

Half an hour later, a man rides up on a bicycle, cheerful as heck, parks his bike and shows us the apartment, tells us to keep windows closed because of Mosquitos, that we should feed the turtle in the garden if we have leftovers, not to feed the fish, gives us his card, and then tells the boys where the good bars with lots of women are.  I suspect he did not realize that Zeph is married to my daughter.  Then again, perhaps he did!

So, we walk around the nearby few blocks, and decide to go into a wine bar.  The proprietor asks us what we want, we tell him we have been traveling for almost an entire day, and he asks if we would like him to make us up an antipasti tray with some prosciutto, salami, cheese... He had me at "prosciutto".  With our bread comes a basket containing olive oil, balsamico, salt and pepper grinders.  Two bottles of wine later, we have managed to consume cold cuts, cheese, bread, some roast beef, green beans, and OHMYGAWD a sformata zucchini (like a zucchini mousse) with a Gorgonzola walnut cream sauce.  Oh yeah, and some sort of amazing chocolate cake with carmelized hazelnuts and a pavlova.  At this point, we have all been mostly awake for what seems like a week, we are full of Montepulciano wine, and we have a lovely apartment waiting for us.  A quick walk around the block to a grocer to buy water, and then home. To sleep.

This morning at 8:45, the bells on the church around the corner rang to call people to mass.  I was so tempted to go, but I have time.  For now, I will get dressed, wander outside, and see if I can find a cappuccino to take to the back garden.

Now...I wonder if I should wake these lazy kids up??