Early the next morning with bags repacked we were on our way to Rome. The Lufthansa flight from Paris to Frankfurt was pleasant and polite; we were amply fed and cosseted, in good German fashion. In Frankfurt, we were to connect with two friends flying in from home and continue to Italy for the rest of our trip. Their plane was late, we were waiting for them in the wrong airport lounge, and we practically ran through the large, unfamiliar Frankfurt airport to catch up with them and find our gate,
Updated 12th February 2015 at 04:24 PM by JaimeB
The next morning held our last remaining moments in Rome. Alas, Enzo was not on duty to hail us a cab, and the concierge on duty was of a distinctly inferior sort. We needed a taxi that could hold the luggage of four travelers, so he counseled us to drag our bags the short distance to the Piazza Barberini where we could find a cab with a trunk big enough for all our stuff. We found one and were off to the Tiburtina station, where we were to catch our train to Florence. We rode on the Freccia Rossa
Updated 12th February 2015 at 04:29 PM by JaimeB
We survived the climb and had enough battery life to take more pictures of the Duomo’s façade, campanile, and baptistery on the ground. Back at the hotel, we conferred about where to have dinner. I had, during my pre-trip internet research, discovered a little place past the end of the Via del Corso on the Borgo degli Albizi called Natalino. Eventually, I managed to convince my dubious companions. On our way there, we passed through the Piazza della Repubblica, where there was a carousel slowly
Updated 4th February 2015 at 11:45 PM by JaimeB
Venice was entirely something else, incredibly mysterious in the fog (the famous càligo, in Venetian caigo), like some surreal medieval dream. At the train station, a water taxi met us, and for about twenty minutes we sailed down the Grand Canal passing ancient palazzi on both sides. Because of the acqua alta, the high tide, we couldn’t get dropped off directly at the hotel, and had to take a short walk through the calli (singular calle), as the Venetians call most of the streets of the town. A
Updated 14th February 2015 at 10:15 PM by JaimeB
Originally Posted by Pollux
As far as my experience goes, I think it is more than enough when:
- you have bottles you won't run up in a year.
- you have so many bottles that you won't use them in a year.
- You have so many some of them will turn.
I always ask myself what I'd do if having the chance of going back in time. I think I should have devoted more time to sampling in order to make better decisions when buying, and that I should have stick to no more than seven 30 ml bottles
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