Eyjafjallajokull might: Prego.

Italians are saying the word "Prego" all the time. I think it can mean "you're welcome" and "don't mention it" and "please" in some contexts. I say it all the time.

Dude, I don't know where you guys live, but where I am right now, you can find a lot of Peruvians. We stopped by a Panini shop on the way home for some delicious sandwiches, and the place was run by a Peruvian couple named Alberto and Rosa (with their nine-month old son Carlos Immaneuele). I asked Alberto how he liked living in Florence and he said he liked New York better-- business moves faster, things get built faster, it's more orderly (?!?!) and no one tells you you can't make any changes to your store's historic, picturesque architecture. Being in Europe has made me realize that speaking one foreign language doesn't really make me that special at all, but it has also made me realize that if you're going to know just one, Spanish is a great one. Latinos are everywhere. I have three new latino facebook friends I met in youth hostels.

I know you're bored. Well if you don't like descriptions of art galleries you're going to stay bored. We paid the four euros to get into the Museo San Marco in the morning, even though we only had like a half hour to be there before our reservation time at the Accademia museum around the corner. Totally worth it. San Marco is where Fra Angelico painted the Annunciation

*Most of the pictures in this post are just google images. They didn't allow photos at these museums.

and a whole bunch of other paintings on the walls of the cells in a Dominican convent. It was so cool-- the nicest museum venue I've seen yet, you just walked around the corridor of this old convent and looked at the frescoes in each cell, each with light streaming through its small window. Gorgeous.

Then it was off to the Accademia, the home of some of Michaelangelo's statues. We saw some of his "prisoners," unfinished figures that got left behind when Michaelangelo left to live in Rome. They're really cool-- you get more of an idea of how Michaelangelo just had to start chiseling away at a huge rock, miraculously transforming it into human muscles and skin.

The highlight of the Accademia museum was without doubt Michaelangelo's David, a huge masterpiece. It really is incredible to see it in person-- pictures do it no justice at all. The way he makes marble look like veins and knuckles is unbelievable. The thing is just awe-inspiring, it's overwhelming.

Also, I uncovered a mystery:

*Yes, I took this picture.

Do you see that? On the outside of David's right calf are carved the letters M N. I asked museum worker after museum worker what they mean, and no one had any idea. A prize to whoever can provide clues leading to the solution of this mystery. No riddle-- I'm seriously curious. It's like From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenwelier.

Also in the Accademia was the Musical Instruments museum, including a Stradivarius cello, viola, and violin, as well as Hurdy Gurdies (AWESOME) and early trombones and a whole bunch of weird instruments. Apparently the inventor of the piano worked for the Medici in Florence.

After the Accademia we got some gelato-- it's pointless to try to attach any superlatives to the gelato here because it's all awesome. Oh, and we had a beautiful lunch-- Anne got ravioles, I got gnocchis al pesto, and Nate got a humongous calzone. They were sincerely some of the best noodles I've ever tasted, both the ravioles and the gnocchis. Ahhhhh. We forgot to take a picture! They were beautiful.

From there we went to the Uffizi gallery, where there are a lot of Renaissance paintings. We were there four hours. My highlight was the whole roomful of Botticelli they had. I don't have the emotional stamina to try and describe what the Uffizi gallery was like, so, just imagine something awesome. Oh guys. I sat in the Botticelli room for at least half an hour, without exaggerating. Probably longer. He had all this really tender devotional stuff from later in his life that I never even knew about. Also one called the Madonna of the Pomegranate.

By then it was late so we went off to try and find a park to sit down in and share some scriptures, you know, since it's sunday, but Florence doesn't have public parks. I still love the town, but that's a serious shortcoming. All the parks shut their gates in the evening. So we sat down on some benches in a grassy spot by the road.

Italy is like California but more Europey.

And with tinier urinals.

-W.