In the world of long-distance hiking, there exists the concept of a "zero." Intuitively enough, these are rest days, where zero miles are walked. I believe I've touched on this in previous hiking posts. And then there's the cousin of the zero, the slightly more ambitious "nearo," which are those days you do the minimum amount of work necessary to be able to say you got your ass moving that day. That day was today.
It's been such a whirlwind of activity since the moment our flight touched down in Venice, that it took an almost insurmountable fatigue to remind us that vacations are supposed to feel relaxing. Even our designated "lounge" day in the mountains began with an almost 5 mile hike. So as we stumbled wearily home last night in our post-Uffizi stupor, we agreed we would sleep in our blackout apartment until we felt like getting up, uncommitted to even leave the building all day. And it just so happened that the weather gods supported with our decision.
We didn't even turn on the bedroom lights and open the windows until 11:30 today. Every time I looked at my watch and groaned that we should wake up, Maddie would grumble or mutter incoherently, lulling me back into a light slumber, that sputtering level of unconsciousness that signifies you've theoretically slept an adequate number of hours, but your mind and body have mutually agreed to maintain the paralysis. When we finally did wake up, we remained bed ridden for almost another hour. Rain and traffic, a familiar duet to San Francisco residents, welcomed us as we opened the windows and greeted the day.
In a futile attempt to mentally cancel out our gluttonous habits this trip, we set out across the city for what we read was a delicious smoothie place. Some 20 minutes later, and it seemed we hadn't learned our lesson to check the hours before committing ourselves. Our destination was shuttered, our delectable dreams shattered. It's so damn confusing when stores and restaurants choose seemingly random days to close. You'd think Sunday would be the day, but then you hear Monday is normally the day. And then you find out it's Tuesday and they close early on Thursday. And many of these places don't have websites or yelp pages to assist in ascertaining hours.
If there's one comfort in this situation, it's that in Florence it's easy to find another delicious alternative. In our case, we quickly located a small sandwich shop just around the corner in a cute little alcove of shops and osterias tucked away off the main streets transversing the Duomo area. I'm already forgetting the name, but it was already my new favorite sandwich place. Lots of customizable options, fresh, chewy bread, and a price point that made you feel triumphant with the purchase. A veggie sandwich for Maddie and a ham sandwich with spicy tomato sauce, mushroom and eggplant for me.
On our way back from lunch, we stopped to find out the Galileo science museum was closed, and continued on our way home. Hey, at least we can say we tried to do something other than stuff our faces today. It was moments later that we felt those first delightful drops of rain. And those transient blissful moments of light, playful rain soon gave way to a torrential thunderstorm that rivaled our time in Venice. In fact, my useless REI umbrella was inverted multiple times, to the point that I was getting wetter trying to continually revert it than I would have if I had just walked sans umbrella. We waited out the worst bit under the overhang of a shop, and then bolted onto an empty sidewalk, enjoying beautiful views of the Arno punctuated by fierce purplish lightning flashes.
Once back and mildly drenched, we got comfortable and settled in for an afternoon of reading and relaxing. After a while of inactivity, we set about washing some of our clothes in the tiny sink, splaying them out to dry draped over all manner of suitable surfaces in the apartment. Eventually, the hunger pangs picked up, and it was time for dinner. In an effort to branch out from the pizzeria genre, we opted for a local osteria that ended up being just okay. It certainly wasn't bad, but it left me wishing we'd gone to the other reputable pizzeria I've wanted to try. Fresh pici pasta with an overly salty meat ragu, a salad to share, and pesto gnocchi. Like I said, just okay. Feeling overwhelmed and still bafflingly a little bit hungry, I went around the corner to the panini place I've also wanted to try, ordering a speck, arugula, and olive spread pressed panini on whole wheat focaccia. WE HAVE A WINNER!
On our way to get Maddie gelato, I ate my sandwich in pure ecstasy. I was almost sad that the amazing place I had just dubbed my new favorite mere hours before was now already being upstaged. Gusta Panino is where it's at. It was when we got back that, in a showing of pure gluttony that would give any Thanksgiving eater a run for his/her money, I decided to get another one sandwich. And then I ordered two more for Maddie and myself to eat in the morning. Basically I looked like a complete weirdo walking in there 3 separate times in the span of an hour, to the point that the jovial sandwich maker just laughed. But that's what vacation is about right? Pigging out and relaxing. Well, check, and check.
Tomorrow we're setting our alarms to get up super early, because we're headed to Pisa to take pictures with the leaning tower, and then we're off to Lucca to spend the majority of our day exploring the walled city. Who knows, if the weather holds, maybe a bike ride along the wall is in our future. Either way, it's back to the touristy grind! Until tomorrow!
P.S. Sorry for the lack of pictures today, oh well!
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