Firenze

Kevin here:

It's actually our last day in Florence but we have been too busy pounding our feet into bloody stumps to write anything. Iris Gowen and David Parker met us at the train station and we blissfully allowed them to do all our planning for us. It was sort of like the "assisted-living" version of touring. Iris is now known as "Iris--She -Wolf of the SS" for the way she has whipped our rather lax methods of sightseeing into something resembling the Nazi march into Paris. Not only has she made sure we leave the city with no Madonna and Child left unviewed, she cooks Italian food like that Lydia woman on PBS. It is impossible to imagine how we can pay back her largess--and they are coming to Rome with us next. Are they mad?

Finnigan has promised to begin his participation in this blog with a description of out climb (463 steps) to the top of the Duomo. Kate and are are too busy trying to catch our breathe and Nell is too busy checking out yet another jewelry store to offer her insights. More later including--I hope--my descriptionof out hotel here--the Pedro Almodovar Arms