gelato...yes now for three days straight.....cones upon cones.....chocolato....tirimasu.. got to get a hold of myself....a little grip. it always looks more then it is.....inviting. piled up behind the glass windows. like mountains with little pinetrees in the distance.....a little snow on top.
cones stacked nicely and aside. towering over. leaning in just a way to make the angle inviting perfectly in reach of the hand. for a few days i wander around florence hoping to get my bearings again. beautiful bikes everywhere. spokes turning.......agressive riders make there way...off like famous statues....excited children. play some cards with three french kids on the street. drinking white wine..... a comedian captivates a growing audience in the ditance. hobbles with his tophat. has a whistle........hundreds of people laugh and cheer..... its easy to watch the streets grow endless. like a tiny labrinth...elastic and anxious. stretching off to the distant river. close to the crumbling buildings and towering squares.

then to the coast and hiking the hills. find a beach all to myself. sleeping with the ants and the sound of waves petruding the rocky cliffs. seagulls form in the morning. grape vines stretch out around my little nest. creates a little space..feeling quiet. climb into the hills and the tiny cities spread throughout. jumping from piers into the bracing......wobbling sea. the salt fills my nostrals. the air is thin and bouyant...the bottom is endless and blue. the sun setting behind fading mountains. climb to the top to watch it wash off into the distance. breakfast of yogart and granola.

off then to the tuscan hills. rolling out to the distant peaks and densly fit orchards. now making a circle. ferrera is full of streets and music. today an elderly man plays a plastic toy piano designed for children. very serious his face. his teal ancient bicycle resting closely behind him. free camping fifteen minute walk. i meet some gypsys from the north. one knots me a bracelet for my wrist. the culture of the city and many surrounding....so far...... possibly pieces of the whole country..... peek from every corner. around every turn. skulla and mr. green play crazy ballads with their little green circle of astro turf. bearded faces, tattered hats and repressed dance moves for the sake of the music. mr. green plays two empty tin cans with two mallets while juggling. skulla sings with his hands strectched out across the weathered wood and worn tingy stringed guitar. they seem to miss the gathering crowd. eyes closed and the songs rush by with momentum like a train.....the hills passing and the window opened and ones head held out the window like a dogs excited tongue lazily challenging the breeze.

the man in the internet cafe keeps spraying bubblegum scented airfreshener. ....somehow it makes me hungry for kebab. kebab is cheap. just around the corner. the owner says squirrel like squirtle.