My Bologna has a first name...and it's not O-S-C-A-R.

Personally, I think Ocsar Meyer gave the city of Bologna a slap in the face by naming their "meat product" by the same name. This city is known for its world class food, or so I was told this morning while leaving Florence. I was planning on heading south to Sienna, but that can wait. The was I see it, if I'm only an hour's rail ride from the food capital of Italy, I'm going to ride that rail for an hour and at VERY least get dinner here. Shoot, if the food's really as good as they say, I'll stay an extra night. Although my hostel is in the middle of nowhere...literally. The bus dropped me off next to a field and off in the distance was an institution-style structure with a small tiangular "Hostel International" sign. But that's not where my room was. "You'll be staying 50 meters down the road at the house with the gate," said my dark-haired, dark-skinned Italian receptionist. At the house with the gate, eh? So I walked in the 37 C heat (which, by my engineering calculations comes out to somewhere near 257 degrees Fahrenheit...okay, 98.6...but still, IT IS SO HOT HERE!) for what seemed like a bit more than 50 meters until I reached what was indeed "a house with a gate." This particular hostel tops the one in Antwerpen as the oddest accomodation yet. From the outside this place looks like an old mansion fit for the mafiosa. From this inside, however, it's new, sterile, and empty. So I took a shower and left. Strolling through this city, I've seen more midaeval architecture than anywhere else on my trip. Of course there is also the civil engineering novelty of the leaning little brother of the city's two towers.

A bit on Florence: I camped near Michelangelo's hilltop property for three nights. My tentmate was an Argentinian who knew about as much English as I do Spanish. Between our staccato converstations about the heat (AY! Caliente!), the ants who invaded my food stores (Ay! Hormigas!) he played beautiful spanish guitar for the surrounding tents.

I did the big tourist push on Saturday. Following my good buddy, Rick Steves', advice, I booked my reservation for the Uffizi and Accademia early in the day at a lesser known attraction. Surprisingly enough it was during the wait for the big shots that I happened into my favorite attraction of the day, the semi-precious stone museum. For the price of a caffe, I had an entire museum to myself for an hour and a half, and what a gem it was! A refreshing break from the barrage of paintings and sculptures, these skillfully created mosaics where some of the most impressive art I've seen. That, and the receptionist, glad to have an appreciative visitor and a chance to practice his English, gave me the inside scoop on gelaterias, snack bars, grocery stores, and less touristy sights around Florence.

Uffizi: Crowded. I am not a huge fan of Renaissance art. Over and over again I see angels and priests and cherubs, and the occasional casually bare-breasted woman. I can appreciate any one piece for it's beauty, but that's tough to do when there are hundreds of them and hundreds of cranky, sweaty tourists pushing to get in the obligatory glimpse.

Accademia: Worth every Euro cent simply for the David. That is an impressive sculpture. Although I've come to learn that it's original destination was high up in a church so it was sculpted to been seen from underneath and only from the front. As it is displayed now, it doesn't satisfy the "eight perspectives of perfection" expected of a fine sculpture. Amazing the things students of the fine arts are excited to share!

Gelato: I am addicted. Much like my kebap tour of Europe (I'm eating a Turkish doner kebap in every city I visit), I'm now embarking on the Official Gelato Taste Tour of Italy. This essentially means that I will be sleeping on Parisian park benches at the end of my trip because I will have blown my budget on the world's best ice cream. Sounds like a good deal to me!

Sunday was lazy and wonderful, just a long day of walking with no destination (except gelaterias).

Monday: Took a bus into Chianti country. This was a treat. Chianti has long since been my favorite wine and to top off the experience I drove past my favorite vineyard, Gabbiano. What a surprise that was! Of all the roads in Chianti, I happened to be on that one! Stopping at Greve in Chianti, I took to the hills and found myself at the quiet little hilltop town of Montefioralle. Then, out of nowhere, came a roaring thunderstorm. Protected by a canopy of trees, a stray cat and I picnicked on cheese, bread, and melon while rain soaked the Chianti vineyards and olive groves and thunder rolled through the Tuscan hills.

Right, that's a proper update for now. Still no pictures, I'm sorry. I might be able to upload a few tomorrow. Leave some comments so I know someone's out there and I'll be more motivated to get pics up. Thanks for reading!

Ciao!