Cappuccino. Croissant. Tried again to get a souvenir, but clearly it was not meant to be because the place I wanted to look was closed. While waiting for our train to Firenze, Frankie saw a seagull steal the frizzelle (think donut-sized donut hole with a cream filling) right out of a little boy's hand as he was raising it to his mouth. Poor kid was devastated, and all anyone around him could do was laugh.
It was very windy, and I had on a skirt, so I basically recreated the Marilyn Monroe scene from the Seven Year Itch, only I didn't have any bloomers on, or the benefit of a wall behind me, so I pretty much flashed all of Piazzale Roma. Good times...
Everyone was much calmer on this train ride, no fights, and I'm pretty sure we were the only Americans.
And then... Firenze. My heart.
Tutti Piccioli en Firenze! We were greeted at the train by our beloved family, as if we'd only just seen them yesterday. They walked us around and showed us their city which they love and are very proud of (understandably so-it's gorgeous!).
Frankie's aunt Maria Pia stayed by my side and walked arm and arm with me the whole way. She made me feel so welcome! Her granddaughter, Miriam stayed with us the whole time and served as translator - she speaks wonderful English! The husband of Frank's cousin Linda (Freddy) also speaks wonderful English, so between the two of them we had such a lovely visit!
Had snacks near Piazza della Signoria, then they walked us to our flat. The view from there is to. Die. For. We sat and visited a while, then got ready for dinner. We were picked up by car and escorted to an adorable restaurant and treated to the most delicious meal I've ever had. I am pretty sure bistecca Fiorentina is my soul mate. Maria speaks the same love language as I do, so she kept feeding me delicious food until I thought I might pop!
I have no idea what I was served for dessert - it was a house specialty that seemed like a cross between Panna Cota and creme brulee with chestnuts, but it was better than any version I've had of either. Then there was Biscotti and Vin Santo, then Espresso. I may never eat again, or at least not until tomorrow. The restaurant owner is friends with the family, and gave me a bottle of their own wine as a souvenir.
Frank's cousin Maria Christina treated us to a driving tour of the Oltrarno on the way home. This is a magical place...
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