A Tent with a View

(Written on September 16th)

It is early. For the second day in a row Nina and I have arisen around 6:30 am in order to accomplish our goals set for the day. Today we are leaving Florence for Rome with a short stop- over in Assisi where I can make a pilgrimage to San Francesco. Nina has managed to fall back asleep but I, after a short doze, am left to stare out the window. The sun hasn't fully risen yet, a fact confirmed when we pass by a sleepy looking field of sunflowers, their heads all bowed.

We had two very busy days in Florence, where I happily retraced my steps from two summers ago - even passing by my old apartment.

Upon arriving in Florence Nina and I crammed ourselves into the jam packed no.13 bus (whose driver highly resembled Lorenzo de Medici - of course it was fabulously appropriate), which dropped us off just outside the Campeggio Michelangelo. We had secured a reservation there (with a bit of help) after leaving several slightly hysterical messages with friends and family members post consumption of a large carafe of wine. We have sworn to be more organised in the future.

We found ourselves in surprisingly luxurious accommodations considering we were staying in a camp ground. Our tent was a permanent canvas structure, with an elevated wooden floor, and three beds (one for Nina, one for me, and one for all of our stuff). It was glorious to have a "room" all to ourselves. Topping all of this off, when you looked out the window, filtered through the grove of olive trees our campground was nestled in, was an unparalleled view of the city. I feel even E.M. Forster would have felt inspired by our romantically rustic sleeping quarters.