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The campsite in Florence reminded me of home ... but not
for good reasons. It reminded me of Glastonbury Festival in hot weather. Anyone who
has been near the latrines in Glastonbury will know what I mean ... just too many people
and too much poo. We arrived quite late on Tuesday night and were rewarded with one of the
last remaining pitches. It was easy to spot why no-one had snapped it up already ... its
gradient rivalled that of the Matterhorn! This meant we both spent the night squished up
in a crumpled heap at one end of the bed ... another reason why it reminded me of
Glastonbury!
Apart from all that, to wake up to the view across Florence from the campsite was very
special. Liz and I walked down into town and across the Ponte Vecchio for a serious day of
sightseeing (Michaelangelo's David, The Uffizi Gallery, the spectacular marble fronted
Duomo). We couldn't fail in our mission having discovered that you can buy pizza by the
kilo!
A day in a place like Florence is not nearly long enough to do it justice, but we did our
best ... pounding the streets and museums until about 9pm. It was then time to call in on
an English woman called Helen who we'd been put in contact with by Liz's aunt. Helen not
only lives in Florence - but is also married to an Iranian, Reza. Liz's aunt had (rightly)
assumed that we'd
welcome a few friendly faces and some advice on our forthcoming trip through
Iran. |