Globus tour, June 12 - breaking away

The River Arno, from the Ponte Vecchio.

Joe and I walked away from the group rather than spend time in a gold merchant's shop.  At the Ponte Vecchio we walked across slowly, paused at the little mid-bridge plaza for some photos. 

It was awfully hot and awfully crowded.  Across the river we found a little cafe in the shade, sat down, and had a most refreshing iced tea with lemon, for 4 euro.  While we were doing that, most of the others followed Nicolas into a large goldseller's store.  Absolutely the last thing I wanted to do.

We'd determined the meeting place before our escape:  the Piazza San Croce.  The church of San Croche is another lovely white and green marble building, which we just looked at, didn't go into.

As we sat in the shade of an enormous fountain, a woman sitting behind Joe asked if he'd had a good shave today.   She and her companion had been in the restaurant last night - different tour group - and they recognized Joe.  We engaged in conversation and were joined by a number of others who knew an Asian man who may have videoed Joe's operative debut in the barber's chair.  We made sure to leave Joe's email address before we rejoined Nicolas and our group back on the Globus bus again to our home for the night.

On the Via Lorenzo il Magnifico was our hotel of the same name, a palazzo converted to modern hotel.  At first I was apprehensive about our room being on the top floor with no other rooms there.  We had to take the elevator with a special key for our floor.  But it was a spacious, magnificent room with windows on three sides.  Once I figured out how to open the outside shutters, we had a marvellous breeze.  In the hotel's garden is a large magnolia tree; its top was just beyond one of our windows.  I was delighted, and very tired.  I lay down for a quick nap.  Very nice.

The hotel's bar was like an elegant drawing room with twenty-foot ceiling that was coffered and carved wood.  Several large chairs and sofas upholstered in pale striped fabric, and french doors leading out to a small terrace and the garden.  A small bar area in one corner had some hors d'oeuvres set out.  No one approached them until the older noisy woman decided that it was all for us.  Well, she was very wrong.  Nicolas entered the room laughing.  He told us the food was for bar guests only and that the hotel manager was upset with us for gobbling it up. 

Dinner this night was in a small family-run place a few doors from the hotel.  Its name is Il Cavaliere, and a sandpiper-like bird was painted next to the name.

  This was a very pleasant dinner, with time for conversation without lots of distraction, and Joe engaged in conversation with the six-person family all night long.  I mainly saw his back.  But I chatted with Bev and Trish, who are from Australia.  This restaurant had the best pork I've ever eaten - large juicy chop, really delicious.   The two women and I split a bottle of prosecco that was quite good and not so very dry.  Dessert was creme caramel.  I think Joe was remembering how he got sick in Paris at Christmas, so he just tasted his.

Although the room was so beautiful, it didn't put me to sleep.  I had a restless night - perhaps some sort of odd exhaustion kept me from sleeping well.