The ride from the airport was a maddening dash. Lane markings mean little, but cutting in front of others is normal and not greeted with horns or cursing. The only times horns sound is when movement stops.
The streets around Uncles are narrow and coblestoned. They have the classic coblestone sinking and rising, but are lovely to look at and complete the scene.
I went for a walk through plaza's and back streets looking for the language school, which I did not find.
The streets are full of sellers, tourists and waitiers; as every block has several restaurants and at least one pizzeria.
I took an alternate route home and followed one crooked street after another, finally stumbling accross the right cross street to get me home.
I took an alternate route home and followed one crooked street after another, finally stumbling accross the right cross street to get me home.
Across the road (Via) is a gelatori, with amazing folds of frozen delights, just begging to be consumed.
The final picture shows the 3rd floor windows, which are the front of Uncles flat.
Between 9:00 and 11:00 pm, I went and watched Uncle teach his small Tango
class. There I met some lovely Italians, most of whom had good conversational English.
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