After our morning rest, we wanted to celebrate our last full day in this city by enjoying the best pizza we have had here. Located at the exit of the Uffizi, Osteria De' Peccatori is by far, the oiliest and most delicious pie we have eaten. And today, its doors welcomed us with air conditioning. We took a table towards the back, far from the windows where the sun made one more attempt to follow us.
With an insalata mista and a sausage pizza, our last lunch in this city was complete. I pressed down my fork in the pie just so I could see the river of EVOO that rose up to cover the tongs. We are going to miss this, no doubt about it.
We took our time, savoring every bite and then, immediately buying a water, we headed towards the bus stop so we could revisit Piazzle Michangelo. At the top is a gelato shop with a view of the entire city and we wanted to take one final look at this gorgeous city from the heights.
This day, however, we took the bus. I was certain we were at the right stop, but as time went on and the heat got more intense, I asked the next bus driver if this went up the mountain. English be damned, it was hot and I spoke what little Italian I could muster to get my question across. An old Italian man at the door told us to get on and take it two more stops to transfer to line 13. Once inside, a small elderly woman spoke to us in broken English and directed us to the correct location. As we exited, she moved her arm in front of her as if she were shooing a fly, pointing in the direction of the stop. Ahead, I saw the bus shelter, turned back and shouted, "grazie," as the little lady disappeared with a smile behind a gated doorway.
The air conditioned bus arrived and it was a quick ride to the top of the hill. There was just no way we could have survived the walk up this mountain as we did last Tuesday. Our legs are like pasta noodles left too long in the water. At the top, the view was still as breathtaking and after a quick look at The fake David's green ass, we went for the covered area of the gelato shop. At the edge of the cliff, the gelataria has an unobstructed view, but the sun is not to be outsmarted here and it finds you in between the umbrellas that attempt to keep it out of your way. My mom and I moved across the patio and enjoyed a strawberry granite, an espresso frappe and of course, aqua minearle con gas.
The heat has worn us down and despite thinking we should take the bus, we had no idea of its schedule, so we walked down the steps in the mountain. Along the way, as I saw the hordes of people sweating and stopping on the way up the stairs, I said, out loud, "There is a bus, there is a bus." I have no idea if they understood English, but it kept us entertained.
At the bottom, my mother was still intimated by the traffic, which is nothing like that of Rome. I kept directing her to the sidewalk, as if she were a puppy running off its leash. "Get up there," I said so she would not have to worry about being this close to the passing traffic.
As we neared the bridge that took us over the river, a huge fat and rather stupid tourist was taking a picture of his family on the bridge while he stood in the middle of the road. Sure enough, the little fiat coming right at him screeched to a halt.
My mother called him an idiot, I called him something else.
As we walked, we tried in vain to find the shade, but the sun has deemed that there is none and taunts you to find your way home. We're moving more slowly than ever and the tour groups are back in the piazza. Today, we pushed right through them, there is no time to wait for their endless numbers to pass us by.
I opened the door to our bed and breakfast and shut out the sun. The stone hallway is cooling, but, today, its stairs are just as vicious in its taunting of the salvation that waits for us at the top.
It must be REALLY hot because I know how much you LOVE the heat! I would definitely melt-----hope it cools off tonight!
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