BlueSkies

Sunday, April 3, 2011

It's All About The Boots, Baby!

I tell you what. Italians sure know how to dress.

Not once did I see a gal schlepping around in pajama pants and a too-small camisole. Nor did I see any guys displaying their boxers for all the world to see.

But I did see boots.

Carol and I were recovering on a park bench from a harried ride on the public bus and being tagged by the "bus police" for not stamping our ticket. By that point, we were pretty slap-happy and I started talking about how all the women were wearing boots. That's pretty much all it took and the hunt was on. We began the whispers, jabs, and nods of the head when a great pair of boots were spotted. I was very inconspicuous about taking my photos and that was half the fun.

Do you love the coat with these boots?

Now, these people literally walk everywhere. EVERYwhere.

In heels.

On cobblestones.

Add to those cobblestones a bike. I have a very good friend that tried to ride a bike across cobblestones in Holland. Not good, she says.

Throw in a pair of boots on the bikes, on the cobblestones.

THEN add in a cell phone conversation while riding the bike in boots on cobblestones.

Oh-and dodging vespas.

Pretty impressive.

Speaking of vespas,

aside from the fact that they are very noisy, loud and remind me of a wayward Junebug,

Aside from the fact that my sister vehemently despises them for their noise factor,

I think it takes guts and quite a bit of finesse to ride one in a pair of boots.

But then that brings us back to bicycles.

Much quieter than vespas,

and they have cool bells to ring to get people like us out of their way.

Rain or shine,

Bikes are mighty fine.

I don't know why, but I found it curious that they had to be locked up.

I guess it burst my bubble of Italy.

Now this cute as pie gal was riding a Vespa,

but standing by a bicycle.

Either way she looked pretty cool in her boots.

Unlike her male companion. Who can only wear tennis shoes on a bike.

I digress.

The women of Italy

rock their boots.

This gal?

High maintenance.

But great legs in her boots.

I was sorely tempted to purchase a pair.

because, you see,

I did not bring boots to walk in.

I brought walking shoes. Which really didn't do me much good as far as comfort was concerned.

But I bet these boots would have helped. And I would have looked good.

Alas, my price range was about right for these:

and I passed.

So, I guess I'll have to be all about the boots in the U.S.A....

Lynn

Friday, April 1, 2011

Italia

Well, hello, friends.

Or should I say, "Buona Sera!"

Good evening!

I am now fluent in ordering coffee in italian.

"Caffe Late, decafianato, per farvore."

That's all one really needs when in Italy.

And a camera.

I am a little overwhelmed with putting pictures together, as there are several hundred to go through. At the same time, I MISS BLOGGING and really want to show you the sights! So, I'll do a little at a time.

First of all, I have to tell you that my daughter is doing fabulously well. So well, in fact, that when I left her, I cried like a baby as I knew a chapter in her life had definitely closed and she is on to bigger and better things in life. A good thing to be sure, but as a mom, well, tears are acceptable now and then.

On to the pictures:

We had a very uneventful flight and I loved every minute of staying put for 10 hours. Even if it was a little cramped. When my sister and I arrived, we acted like we had been shot up with jet fuel and walked 10-12 hours a day for the next three days taking in everything we could. Let's just say cobblestones are not kind to the feet.

This is the view outside our hotel room. Every morning, we would throw open the window and see how the city was coming to life. We would judge the weather from what everyone was wearing. Mostly warm coats, hats, scarves..it was cold!

This is outside the Duomo, in the main square.

My sister and I traveled very well together. Even when she got food poisoning. Have you ever cleaned up apple barf from your sister before? I'll save that story for later.

Florence is a bustling city, but there is unique feel of community.

My all time favorite part of each day was 5 o'clock.

Every one stops in to the many different Pasticcerias and has a cookie of some sort and some coffee. Most people stand at a bar and partake of the evening's offerings, but we would always sit so we could watch the people.

This is a Bombolino.

Otherwise known as a slice of heaven.

These are creme filled, but they also come filled with Nutella.

Yum.

Or Apricot. I think the Nutella was better.

The biscotti aren't too shabby, either.

Everyone gets a treat at 5 o'clock!

This was an especially beautiful bar area. We made friends with the Barista and he showed us the best treats in the case. I think we went back 3 times.