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Buona Sera from Florence

My time living la dolce vita in Florence is going swimmingly. It’s more ridiculously beautiful than I remembered, and I just feel really happy and content being back here. I’m sure the twice-daily quartini of vino rosso, the copious amounts of pasta, and the many cappuccini I’ve been consuming help.

I’m staying in a hostel on the outskirts of the city, which isn’t ideal, but it’s clean and small, which is nice. There’s an irritating Russian dude who won’t quit talking to me even when I’m blatantly rude (i.e., him: Do you speak Italian? Me: No. Him: Do you want to learn? Me: No. Him: Why not? Me: Because I’m tired and I want to be left alone. Him: Ah. I speak beautiful Italian. Me: That’s nice. I have to go now). Turns out he’s in the same room as me, and homeboy had the nerve to come into the room at midnight when I was in bed with the lights off and ask if I was awake. I ignored him and pretended to sleep. He repeated, “Jill, are you awake?” louder and louder until I finally answered. Then he came over and shoved a glass of Moscato (a sweet desert wine) in my face and commanded me to drink it. I told him to fuck off (in slightly nicer terms), and he pestered me about why I wouldn’t drink it. I’m in bed. I already brushed my teeth. I’m tired. Finally I asked him to please go away and he left.

Tonight he asked me if I like American football and I said no. Then I got a lecture on how he already knew that, because men and women have different brains, and men’s brain chemistry makes them like sports. So he’s a real winner.

But other than that, Florence is great. I studied here in college, and it’s really strange to be a tourist in a place I used to live. But it’s nice — I’m finally doing all the things I never bothered to do when I lived here. And I’m re-visiting my favorite restaurants and wandering through my old neighborhood. It’s also a relief to be able to communicate with people again, even if only rudimentarily — I was only in Germany for 24 hours, but not being able to speak the language really grated on me. My Italian is pretty bootleg, but at least I can get the basics done. Tomorrow I head up to Fiesole (a town outside of Florence), and after that begin my tour of Tuscan towns (Siena, Volterra, San Gimignano and Lucca). I’m posting pictures here because my memory card is filling up fast. I’m not editing them, just posting whatever is on my camera, so some of them are pretty poor — don’t judge. I think I have at least a few good ones.

I don’t want to leave.


19 thoughts on Buona Sera from Florence

  1. There’s an irritating Russian dude who won’t quit talking to me even when I’m blatantly rude

    The Russian guy obviously believes in the Law of Reciprocal Attraction: He’s attracted to you, therefore you must be attracted to him. Any resistance you put up will be interpreted as a coy flirtatiousness. Good luck.

  2. ohhhhhh Moscato. One of the nicest things about living in Europe, for me, was inexpensive Moscato, since it’s one of my favourite wines. You can get it in the states but it’s a good bit morem expensive.

  3. Get a picture of the muskrats in the Arno, will you? One of my fonder memories is having an old man tell me very determinedly that the things I and my friend were calling “rats” in the river were “no ratta, is moosk-ratta!”
    And enjoy Fiesole. As I recall, the view both on the back side of the hill in the grounds of the archeology museum, and the view down towards the city were to die for.
    Ugh. I’m just too jealous for words.

  4. I hate co-ed rooms in hostels. Mostly, because the 1st time I was in one, I had to deal with newly released ex-convicts in Ireland who started beating the shit of each other in the bunk below, then I had to help a run-a-way who was about 14 deal with her perv boyfriend (about 40), and then these Mormon missionaries (a sister and brother) started selling drugs to everyone in the room and then talking about how they were going to convert the Africans…so, good luck with the Russian (I had problems with a Russian in Amsterdam, so…

  5. Sounds like it’s time for the old “finger-in-the-face” for your little friend. I’ve found it’s a great way to get your mesage across in any language. I’ve had to do this a few times with extremely inappropriate/forward men, and it works. Next time, just point your finger in his face and tell him exactly how you expect to be treated, calmly, but firmly. It really works.

    Or a swift kick to the crotch…whichever.

  6. hey jill, i came across your message because your friends are spamming a forum that i read occasionally. so why don’t you like him? admit it, you’re just playing hard to get. i realize you are insecure about your weight and you have doubts that a russian guy who speaks fluent italian and brings wine into your bed could have but a fleeting interest in you. but you’d be surprised how diverse we are.

  7. He’s totally smitten. It’d be adorable if it weren’t, you know, creepy, immature, sexist, and rude.

  8. Hope the Russian moron finally gets the hint. Do they sell pepper spray over there? Or maybe you could tell him that you’re cranky because your dengue fever is relapsing…nah, that would go over his head…

    Other than that, it sounds wonderful. I hope to get to Italy someday with my wife, but until then, I’ll be vacationing vicariously through your posts and photos. Enjoy!

  9. Sounds like you’ve already told him off; perhaps a query to the hostel management is in order, if the management are at all involved in running their establishment. As with restaurants it’s poor business to stand idly by while customers drive each other up the wall.

    I wish I could go to Europe right now.

  10. I wonder what was in that Moscato.

    You know, that was my first thought, too, since he was pretty insistent that I drink it. That said, I don’t think he’s smitten — I think he’s just an irritating human being who doesn’t understand when other people want to be left alone. Also, he’s just weird. He bought a t-shirt that has an American football logo on it, with the words “Ex-gay with considerable ‘back’ end experience.” I’m not sure he understands what it means (I’m not sure I understand what, exactly, it means), but he seems to think it’s the greatest thing ever. So, yeah, weird.

    Now, dinner time. Don’t worry, Boris, I’ll have a salad.

  11. What exactly does his russianness have to do with his general douchebaggery? THis reminds me of the whole hollaback thing where a huge deal is made about the offender’s race or ethnicity, which only serves to dilute the message so to speak. And it’s irritating

  12. What exactly does his russianness have to do with his general douchebaggery? THis reminds me of the whole hollaback thing where a huge deal is made about the offender’s race or ethnicity, which only serves to dilute the message so to speak. And it’s irritating

    I knew someone was going to bring that up. I called him “the Russian dude” because when you’re staying in hostels with people from all over the world, that’s how you identify people — the American girl, the Russian guy, the British family, the Korean guys, the Australian girl, etc. His Russianness doesn’t have anything to do with him being a douchebag, any more than his name would — but there are too many names to remember, so everyone IDs everyone else according to their country of origin.

  13. first:

    My Italian is pretty bootleg

    i seriously thought i was the only person who still uses bootleg like that.

    second: it sucks that the russian is bugging you, and that you have to actually physically be in the same room as you. sucks because outside of that room – as i’m sure you already know – (most?) italian guys will pester the hell out females. i was in italy several years ago, and i remember my 13 year old sister getting howled at as she walked by.

    not good.

    and third: i’m insanely jealous.

    have fun.

  14. the 1st time I was in one, I had to deal with newly released ex-convicts in Ireland who started beating the shit of each other in the bunk below, then I had to help a run-a-way who was about 14 deal with her perv boyfriend (about 40), and then these Mormon missionaries (a sister and brother) started selling drugs to everyone in the room and then talking about how they were going to convert the Africans

    Sounds like a novel in the making.

  15. I love Italy! Jill, You’re making me so jealous, I wish I could be there right now! Siena is beautiful, you’ll really enjoy those towns. Piazza del duomo, and everything around it. There are some “casa d’acologenza” which are kind of like youth hostels only a bit more upscale and geared for religious pilgrims but open to anyone. For a very cheap price you can get your own room with bathroom–the only catch is that most have a curfiew as the nuns close the doors at 11pm. I stayed at one in Siena that was women only and met some nice people during the included breakfast.

    Keep sending us pictures!

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