It feels odd to have left Venezia so soon. Now it is in the past, and I am further south in Italy. The weather is much warmer here in Firenze than Venezia. There is no great body of water where I may walk along the beach and feel the sand between my toes. Instead, I find myself in an old-fashioned hotel without A.C. (once again) and this time without a pool. It did not help matters that my room was on the third floor and the small elevator could barely hold two people without their luggage. Somehow, the breakfast room is on the fourth floor, and the reception room on the second. The Hotel Pandorama is ancient in many ways, but there is not much more to say as I am content at the moment with a light breeze blowing on my face through the huge open window.

I feel today was not as grand as the previous one. Maybe it was the three and a half hour drive to Firenze from the place near Venezia. Perhaps it is the slight differences in culture, such as having to pay to get a toilet or standing up to eat lunch. The many streets are lined with vendors and their cheap bargains, waiting to make a sale and eager to stop a wandering tourist in order to get more money.

Shops are everywhere that can be found; cafes and gelato shops are commonly dispersed many times on the same street. On every street and corner there is another shop, and it mystifies me how all these shops continue to stay in business. Some are on side-streets and seem to be out of the way; somehow people find their way through the crowded streets and into the less-traveled alleys. However they do it, I commend the shopkeepers on a nice job staying in business.

The medieval and Gothic churches are truly magnificent; I have never seen such artistic capability in real life before. From the stained-glass windows to the rising arches, I want to touch such beauty, but I feel so confined when I realize the thick ropes and chains preventing me from doing such. I am not one of the individuals special enough to touch this masterpiece; I am just a passing visitor who is looking up at the elegance for a moment before taking a picture of it, hoping the film will develop, and walking quietly away to explore the next site of interest.

Today, I am a little more comfortable with the Italian language. The few phrases I know, I try to accent likewise to Elsa. Maybe these are useless attempts, but I frequently speak my English now with a heavier Italian accent when I am in public. Even if this is all foolish, I know atleast that I am trying and having fun with it.