Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Catacombing it

After the catacombs debacle of yesterday, we left the house a lot earlier today . . . but not, you know, early enough. The line was two hours long. We had to give T her snack and a small dose of insulin so she could have enough energy to get through it. I will give you none of the interesting history about the catacombs because you are so Internet savvy and because we ran, freezing and freaking out, past all of the signs explaining everything.

Thanks to Sara and Kurt for making the wait fly by much faster.

 (PS. I can't find LA Girls, can you send me the link?)

This is photo of Giannutri, which is a Tuscan island and also Sara's soul place-- the way Lucca is for me. I would not even know such a lovely place existed if not for her.
There were 123 steps to get down. They were steep, spiral steps alla chiocciola. At least the ground isn't all wet and slippery, I thought to myself right before I hit the puddle. F had to duck for about 90% of it due to the low ceilings. Did I mention how cold it was down there?


Also unlike everyone else in our group, I held the place in line and missed snack, so by lunch time six and a half hours had gone by since the piece of toast I had for breakfast. We then could not get a taxi and after a long subway ride found out that the cheese plate we had been fantasizing about was being held hostage by the bistro Paul where the kitchen was already closed. Paul had lots of company as all the other bistros' kitchens were closed too. We finally found a sub par cheese plate where I oozed grumpiness onto my little crusty bread circle, but at least the girls had some french fries.

The skeleton earring felt right at home.


Natasha's momma, please know this is only a pretend look of complete and utter terror.

It was dark down there.

1 comment:

Laurence said...

Tourism rule 17: Don't stand on lines.