Our first order of the day was to hike up to the top of the Duomo. (P.S. the gold ball at the top is totally the Manetti family gold. For Reals. That family is going to heaven...)
We climbed all 463 steps of it. Clearly I am in horrible shape, because my calves have been so sore ever since I'm debating renting a freaking people mover to get myself around from now on. Despite the slightly claustrophobic climb and my concerns for cardiac arrest, the views of Florence and the Campanile (Bell Tower), were incredible.
It also gave us a great excuse to head to Pizzaiolo for lunch.
One large antipasto platter and two Margherita Pizzas con Mozzerella di Buffola later, and we had erased any semblance of physical improvement obtained by our jaunt up the church steps. We were succumbing to some pretty serious food coma, and decided it was best to head back to the apartment.
That night, Kate had convinced us to go to her regular Iyengar yoga class. The group enjoyed quite a few chuckles at our expense, Americans being quite novel apparently. That and the fact that the teacher enjoyed "repositioning" us regularly, several times literally whacking me on the ass (evidently I stick it out a lot), and shoving my arms into unnatural positions while pointing me out to the rest of the class, leading all to giggle a bit and stare. A cultural experience I guess, but we were quite amused by the amount of casual conversation that occurred during class and the number of props used throughout.
We rewarded ourselves with more pizza, more pasta and more chianti for dinner. At this point we're so full of cheese that Ben's calling me his "little ball of burrata" and thinks it's cute to grab my stomach chanting "burrata burrata!" Always good for a girl's mental state...
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