I am in Florence and back in a place where I can get Wifi. We spent the last 4 days in an apartment in Nice, which was fantastically roomy and had 2 balconies with a view of the mountains and palm trees and an old-style cage elevator that scared Reba so much she wouldn't take her luggage into it for fear of breaking it with the added weight. I discovered my phone wasn't getting WiFi after I got a text from Rogers telling me id managed to use up half my data for the month researching the difference between a sling and a cocktail (very important business).
Nice was beautiful, hot, and primarily populated by very rich old tourists. I decided to give in to the temptation of the patisserie on our corner and bought an almond macaron, to the ridicule of my peers (apparently its crazy to want to buy a macaron in France, go figure. I mean it was possibly the sweetest thing I had ever put in my mouth and I made them help me finish it even though it was roughly the size of a toonie, but still. Delicious).
Then we tried to figure out French Laundromats and I became very cross with my travel buddies because they were more interested in helping me figure out how to put my washer on a spin cycle than they were in letting me finish A Farewell To Arms on the laundromat floor. Nice. Wild times happen there.
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