A few peas in my mattress

Looking back over my blog, I see one overriding theme: "Paper!!! Ahhh!"

Well, the paper is due on the 31st if I can send it via email. Which, it turns out, I can. I'm in Florence, everything is expensive except walking around, and my hostel is very nice. They have a whole room of computers, and I can use wordpad without even logging in. I was considering checking out and heading to Sienna instead, but I think I have a duty and a serendipitous spot. Hopefully within a day or two the theme will change to: "Paper done!"

I'm in Firenze, as it's truly named, and it is HOT. PLUS Hostel, 22 bucks a night, is decent. I'm in a room with 7 beds. It's spacious and the AC will run for an hour at a time. The bed is really noisy and I'm a tosser, and my corner doesn't really get the AC but does get a lot of street light. That's okay; I slept like a baby last night anyway. After my 16 hour busride! I took Eurolines from Paris to Florence and arrived yesterday afternoon. Eurolines is like Greyhound only efficient, and the people are an interesting cross section as well. I hate to admit it, but I didn't really talk to anyone; I just focused on finding positions of comfort that didn't make my tailbone hurt worse. I slept on an iron parkbench in Milano waiting for the transfer bus. That's hard core.

Getting to Florence was my first time ever arriving in a foreign city without any plan--no map, no reservations, no idea if the bus station was even near the town center. Fortunately, it was. I did happen to know from reading some guides that Florence always has budget accommodations open, as I stated below. It was true. A man even tempted me at the train station with a private, air conditioned room for 30 dollars a night! But I didn't give in, and now I have a place to write.

Okay, so I have to be honest. In some ways this trip is not the magical fairy tale ride through Happy Land. It's freaking hot, and in some places muggy. I didn't pack the right clothes; I feel like a frumpy tool. It's peak season. I have had several instances where service people have been quite rude to me, the way that you can tell that just below the surface they're hostile. And I can only assume that's because I'm by myself and have a small demeanor here because I don't know the language and feel insecure.

Last night I paid extra for a sit-down dinner (gorgonzola pizza and beer). I was under an umbrella and something poured on it and splashed through onto my arm. I told the waiter very nicely, just in a questioning tone, and he said the umbrella was for the sun. Then he immediately went over and told another waiter, and they sat there poking fun at me in Italian while I tried to enjoy my dinner. I asked him why he was poking fun, and he told me in a very bossy and rude tone, "Eat. Eat your food." I left feeling terrible, reminding myself that rude people in America always see me as a target as well. It's something to do with my face or my voice or my demeanor, I don't know--or maybe I'm just fooling myself and I'm too ergly for public life. Maybe here it's because I'm a fat American by myself and people can tell that I don't know how to fight back. It makes me feel pretty crappy. But on the walk back to the hotel, I told myself that I would just be as super nice and smiley as possible so that nobody could feel okay about being rude. But it's not like I'm wearing a fanny pack and speaking in obnoxious, loud English or anything. Oh well. And I reminded myself that English speaking people are notoriously rude, so it's to be expected occasionally that I get the brunt of it. And that every person who has been rude to me is working-class. That's how it is in America too: most of the discriminatory, racist comments about language or nationality come from the lower classes.

The worst one I got was funny, and I didn't even realize it was rude until after I left. I went to an information booth in a train station in Paris and said, in French, Excuse me please, do you speak English? And she replaid, No. Do you speak French? I said that sorry, no I didn't, maybe only a little. My naive answer probably made her nicer, because she was helpful after that. And did speak some English; she was just being a smart ass.

Well, anyway. It's 9:31 am and I'm going to go walk around Florence until lunch. I can't find my sunscreen, which is a major pain because I can't wear the lotion kind. So I brought my umbrella. There's a lot of amazing art here, but you have to pay to get into everything, and it's all in different places. Michaelangelo's David: 8 Euro. The museum of fine art (with a collection, apparently, the rivals the Vatican): 8 Euro. So I'll just go see the tomb of Dante and wander around. Down to one of the only markets that covers a river. I'll spend my Euro on gelatto. Somehow I feel spoiled, having just been to the Louvre.

After wandering and having gelato, I'll come back to the hotel and swim during the hottest part of the day. The hostel has a pool. Then in the evening I'll take a bus up to a point on the hill that overlooks the town. Then tonight, more work on the paper, and I have all day tomorrow as well.

Signing off!