Where in the World is Markmen Radtkiego?

A little bit about Florence so far: Instead of getting in at 6, we got in closer to 11:30. Just before arriving, I tried to get my bearings by looking at the map in my guidebook. The entry for my hostel said, “Strict midnight curfew.” I would have to get to my hostel within half an hour or I’d be locked out! After waiting 5 minutes without any sign of a bus, I asked a guy behind a kiosk if the busses were still running (most of the cities I’ve been to shut down after midnight). He told me that the bus drivers were on strike, but busses would be running tomorrow. So I hopped over to the taxi stand, where I stood behind a big Italian guy smoking a cigar and praying to St. Peter, I think. (Grambo, what do you pray to St. Peter for? Is he the patron saint of cab drivers?) Behind me were three teenage girls communicating in sign language.

Just as St. Peter got up to the front of the cab stand, some sweaty drunk guy cut the line. I couldn’t say anything, although yelling at him in Spanish crossed my mind. (I later learned that Spanish is helpful for reading Italian, but not speaking it.) Five valuable minutes went by before two cabs showed up. I ran around St. Peter and hopped into the second one, and made it to my hostel at about 11:55.

This morning I learned that there is no curfew, they just ask people to be quiet after midnight.

I’m going to write a letter to my guidebook publisher and demand an apology and a job.

Tags: Florence, Italy, Travel

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