Another day, another 10am wake up to meet Pett! He chucked his stuff in my room again as it was too early to check back into the hostel, and we began our morning ritual of me blogging and him checking the guide book to see what there was to do for the day. We also wrote some postcards to friends and family, and took them with us to find stamps (more on this later).
We decided on going to see Santa Maria Novella church and going up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which should take us the best part of the day. I hadn't eaten yet (Pett had a feast of a breakfast at his hostel, no free food here though) so we went to a wee cafe for some grub before setting out properly.
Santa Maria Novella was the birthplace of the renaissance, so naturally I wanted to go and see it. It was quite a large church, and some of the paintings on the wall were spectacular. They clearly pushed the boat out when they built this place. As we walked round we noticed a wee room in the church, which had been turned into a shop. I somehow don't think the original designer had planned this to be a shop, shameless money grabbing on the go.
After a good walk around the church we decided to go outside and have a bottle of water in the sunshine, at the piazza out the front. When we got outside we were accosted by some lovely wee bellas, who wanted us to sign a thing against drugs. I told them I already did it in Milan (which I didn't) and got away scott free. Their patter was pretty poor, asking us where our kilts were and if we knew William Wallace. Aye darling big Willie is my uncle, I'll tell him you were asking for him. Do the hounders in the street in Scotland do this to Italian tourists? "Oh say hi to the Pope and Leonardo da Vinci for me when you get back mate". I somehow doubt it.
We then headed through the throngs of people in the town (the amount of tourists here is huge) to get to the other side of the river, and make our way towards Piazzale Michelangelo. When we got to the bottom of the hill and saw all the steps I near died, it was the Prague castle all over again. We slogged up the steps, and when we made it to the top I was completely gubbed. The views from the Piazzale were incredible, and definitely made the ridiculous climb worth while. The city really is beautiful, especially in the baking sun.
Next stop: buying stamps for the postcards. This turned out to be an absolute nightmare. We had been told by a couple of people you could buy stamps from fag shops, so we tried at least a half a dozen of them, and none of them gave us stamps. One of the shops had stamps, but only if you bought your postcards from him! What a dobber. Eventually we found the post office, but the stamp window only stays open until 12:30, I mean why would anyone want to buy stamps after midday? That would be ludicrous!
We took a number for the main queue and got in line. It took ages, Italian people don't seem to bother about folk waiting behind them, they'll just leisurely go about their business. The excitement reached fever pitch when we only had one more number to go, and then it was our turn! Yass!
With the postcards posted, we headed back to the hostel for another swim and a sauna. The pool yet again was freezing. When we went in for a sauna the place was full of Aussie lads, and one American boy who kept throwing water onto the coals, it got so hot I could barely breathe so had to leave and jump back in the pool.
We dried off, and headed up to the roof terrace for a lovely cold fanta (Pett had fizzy water, disgusting). We made plans for what we wanted to eat tonight, and the consensus was clear, kebab it is. We walked for a wee while and found a kebab shop, and had a tasty feed.
We retired to the roof terrace for the night, and got on the beers! We met the Aussie boys from the sauna, two of which were sound as a pound, and the other was a complete douchebag. The boy spoke with this fake accent to sound like he smoked 40 a day, probably to impress the chicks. He also had a rosary round his neck, which he wore to look cool. This was ok though, as half his family were Catholic and the other half Christian, so he could get away with it. Aye mate, because Christianity and Catholicism are two completely different religions, Catholicism isn't a denomination of Christianity at all. You total wank.
After they left, we were chatting amongst ourselves for a while, when an American girl interrupted to ask what language we were speaking. Haha! We all had a chuckle when we revealed we were talking English, and got to talking to her. She was from Baltimore! We LOVE The Wire! Apparently she had only seen a couple of episodes. Criminal! How can you come from Bmore and not have watched all of The Wire?
We spent the night chatting (the brazillian boy from our room joined us) and drank more beers. When the rooftop shut, we headed downstairs and joined a megagroup of travellers drinking. What's that I hear? Some birds with Scottish accents? Get in there!
We spoke to them for while, two of them were on a placement with uni in Sicily, and told us about a Scottish band they had seen at a gig there. They were called The Fire and I! Classic bants ensued when it turned out I knew who they were. Small world!
More chat was banded around (one of the birds was dying for a lorne sausage roll and some Irn Bru, I feel your pain darling) and by two o clock we were steaming, so retired to bed as we had to be up earlier for the train in the morning. A cracking day overall, Roma tomorrow!
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