Aaron and I have wrapped up our travels in Firenze and Arezzo and have headed north to Bologna. Last night we met up with my long-time friend Marika and went out to a traditional Italian bar. Very cool!
By the way, we have a few more observations: Three, most of the people we have seen have only stopped smoking long enough to return a cell phone text message or to change the song on their iPods. Four, it doesn’t matter how much you know the language, you still feel like a small fish in a very large pond.
Our waistlines are expanding and our wallets are shrinking, but we’re having an incredible time. I believe tonight we’re going to try out a discothecca and then probably head to Venezia tomorrow, just to experience the canals and say that we saw where The Italian Job all went down. Ferrara is on our list, too.
For those who are awaiting our return, we’re never coming back to the States. :p
Not long ago I heard a young man ask why people still kept up Memorial Day, and it set me thinking of the answer. Not the answer that you and I should give to each other-not the expression of those feelings that, so long as you live, will make this day sacred to memories of love and grief and heroic youth–but an answer which should command the assent of those who do not share our memories …