Swolen footsies and friendly Italians...

Contrary to popular belief they do exist and thank the good lord that many have stumbled into my path. Today could have been a real disastor. I slept in, ended at the wrong station, missed my train, encountered a rail strike, was sent across the country to get a very short distance, missed the checkin at my hostel ... blah blah blah. But you know it was a fabulous day. I met April on the bus, a young nursing student from San Fran who is headed home early because she plain ran out of Euro, Cal from Denmark headed to a conference on global warming, and a very nice man in the phone shop that solved my hostel problem with gusto. I got to see tons of landscape and sit beside a handsome Italian man. I ate a pizza with what looked like tuna on it ... and just closed her in half and chowed down and really quite enjoyed it. I saw Italian mean rocking out on sax, keyboard, drums, and guitar at a festival that I fell into on my run. Let us not forget the old man that looked like a raisan in his white linen pants given her to Elvis. I saw a man riding his bike with two very loved and well groomed fluffy white pups in baskets on either side. I sat beside a musician playing his guitar on the train and had my heart fall into my tummy at the beauty. I have gotten more smiles, nods, and winks than I get in a year in Calgary. My wink has come back to me when I get busted enjoying someone elses moment.
And aside from the swollen foot from a mystery bite ... I sit here tonight in a small Florence hostel, which is really a big flat, in the kitchen with the fan on me and the owners kids smilling down at me, on FREE internet, enjoying being me, where I am, and who I am today. Of course there are moments where I long to be sharing this all with someone I have not met within the last day ... but those pains pass quickly as soon as a small beauty catches my soul and takes it away.
Love, and lots of it.