Florence: My Love for Pistachio Cream is Reawakened and Where are All the Toilet Seats?

 After our night flight from Paris to Florence, we arrived at the apartment that the five us would be staying in for the next three nights.  It was great, as it was centrally located and the apartment itself was lovely with plenty of space for us all.  The building however, was likely constructed during the Renaissance and I would bet that the door and its lock were originals.  The key was oddly shaped and I could swear that Professor McGonagall had a similar pair attached to her robe in all the “Harry Potter” movies. After three trips with suitcases up the smallest elevator known to modern man, none of the four 60+ people could open the lock due to diminishing strength and increasing arthritis in our hands.  Fortunately, our young niece was with us and was able to open the door with far less difficulty.  We had a similar problem the next morning, trying to leave the apartment but again, we were saved by the youth of our niece.  I am frankly now, afraid to be too far from her! 

The next morning, we were headed to the Galleria dell’ Accademia, to see the beauty of Michaelangelo’s “David.”  We stopped first for a quick breakfast of caffe latte and a croissant.  The waiter listed the croissant types which included pistachio cream filling.  I’m not sure if I outwardly gasped, but I know my heart skipped a beat.  How did I forget that Sicily, the place in which I discovered the scrumptiousness of pistachio cream is connected to the mainland!  We didn’t have to return to Palermo (although that would be fine) to enjoy this delicacy.  Florence had it too!  I can only chalk up my forgetfulness with old age.  I can only tell you that it took only one bite before I thought I died and went to heaven.  I was reminded later in the day that it was sold on Amazon and I didn’t have to go to Sicily or the mainland to enjoy it. However, I have yet to find it in the U.S. stuffed into croissants!

Our day was busy walking and soaking in as much art and culture as we could—all as we ran between a whole lot of raindrops! Our son, daughter-in-law and grandson arrived and we were thrilled to have them with us for a good part of the day.  After dinner we returned back to the apartment and thought we should take advantage of the wash machine and dryer located in the apartment and wash some clothes so that we were not arriving at the swanky wedding venue with bags of stinky clothes.  Unlike ours at home, the wash machine and dryer was one machine and the owner’s directions, which I’m sad to say, were in English, told us that after the wash machine was on for five minutes, we were to turn the knob to the left to start the dryer.  We did that but after 59 minutes of washing, the machine began washing for another 47 minutes.  We thought that maybe we turned the knob to the wrong choice, because unfortunately for us, all of them werecin Italian. We tried again, but this time the clothes were washed for another 2 hours and 45 minutes, which brought us to 2:30 in the morning! Finally, in the middle of the night, we raised the white flag, which could have been any of the white t-shirts and socks that had just been washed for 271 minutes. Bob, bless his heart, got up a little before 3 am and hung everything up on a mega-drying rack we found in our bedroom closet.  By the size of that rack we clearly were not the first renters to have trouble working the dryer. 

I love this city and have been here several times before. But I have noticed—like no other time in the past that something is missing….toilet seats in public restrooms.  What is going on? In nearly every one I have been in these last few days, the holes and/or the hardware are still there. So where are the seats? Who was the person responsible for taking such a bold step?  This is just not acceptable for someone like me who grew up in the 1960’s with a mother who drilled into her children’s heads that covering the toilet seat was essential to minimize the chances of catching “something,” with “something” never being fully explained. The problem is, who do you ask? I thought I might broach the subject with today’s tour guide at the Uffizzi Gallery, in between my questions about Giotto’s altar pieces and Michaelangelo’s “Holy Family,” but I chickened out and it may remain a mystery. If anyone has any ideas…..

Our daughter and son-in-law arrived today and tomorrow, we are all heading to Tuscany for Day 1 of the wedding festivities! Tomorrow night is the Henna party and dinner and after averaging 14,000 steps per day for the last week requiring a whole lot of Voltaren  arthritis cream on my feet,  I’m already fretting about putting on heels!  Ciao Firenze!






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