The city center is clean, hot and hosts a nice flee market. We walk around glancing at some interesting items: some Russian china and tableware, souvenir mock Faberge eggs, binoculars and flasks with Nazi cross?.. I do wonder who would buy such things even in this part of the world.
The stores are packed with people. We end up stocking up clothes (while time permits) in large stores carrying both men's and women's clothing - to get our tax free paperwork completed :)
A granny in the coffee shop we got our first shot of double espresso/cappuccino in seems to understand my Italian and gives me a sweet smile. The owner of a little basement-type café in a little street just steps away from the shops barely understands English and does not speak a word of it, so with some help of our limited Italian and improvised sign language we end up with great wine and a simple but delicious mortadella sandwich. By the way, you could kill somebody with that huge stick of motradella...
Gelatto is yummy, just like Slovenian. Sprits in the little café above a creek we have our light lunch at - are a killer. Literally, whatever they add to it that looks like soda and not proseco - is not soda at all. I realize it when we start talking about a couple of German cyclists that join the rest of their group late, I suggest that's because they got lost driving around a krožišče and I totally lose it.
On the way back home I keep thinking that it's a shame we won't make it to Florence this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment