The last day.

Tweet

We took the train to Florence itself, it was a time I remember oh so well. There was even a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Joan Baez but I didn’t comment because she looked, according to her age, as if she would just ask “Joan who?” We spent a long time in the Boboli gardens which were a real treat, especially the shade offered by the trees on an appallingly hot day. And the gardens are very hilly. There’s what is known as a “Gentlemen’s pavilion” and I drew some opprobrious glares when I giggled too loud and pointed out that it sounded like it might have been a gay pickup haunt back in the day. No judgment, that just what it sounds like to me and I’m sure many others were thinking it. Good views over the city were had before we left the quiet shade to rejoin the heaving throng of tourists washing along the streets around Santa Maria Novella like the Zambezi in flood. Lunch was had at the Trattoria Boboli. The train was packed but the three of us found seats together for the ride back to Pisa. A man in the booth behind us reached round and pulled down the window blind which incensed our daughter so she flung it up again. The man began remonstrating and peered over the seat back to have a row with whoever was rearranging his blind situation and only then did he realise that he was tangling with a lady with Down Syndrome and he didn’t know where to put himself. He muttered something at me that might have been apologetic, but he was apologising to the wrong person. I smiled at his ashamed face and announced “You, sir, are an ignoramus. An ignoramus do you hear”, like I was a character from something like “A Room With A View”. Where is Maggie Smyth when you need her? Oh that’s right, she’s dead. I’ve had great fun this week answering questions in Irish when I just didn’t want to get involved. Most folk are baffled and give up but I’m sure to trip up some time. I shall bid you all goodnight now and dress my mosquito bites with ointment before I try to sleep before our early start tomorrow for the journey home.