Our last day has a little of everything.

Food, Wine, Art, Shopping, Games and Danger. (Plus I got some cardio in!)

Packing happens. Things are pretty well organized there before most of us head out. Kat and Griffin stay back, and food’s first as Kayla skipped breakfast. So did I, so did Jason.

We head toward the Duomo as that’s the direction to take for our booking at the Academia.

On the way, we pass celebrations. Music and dancing in the street. I don’t think my toe would appreciate me attempting to dance in the street just yet, but it’s fun to watch.

We spy what looks like sort of back in the way back religious garb. Long black cassocks, frilly white collars. They must be boiling.

As must the guys in military dress uniforms.

Regardless, the mood is definitely happy.

We opt for a new place and take a tiny four-top outside. We immediately confuse our server as some are getting margarita pizzas, some are getting frozen margaritas. Some get both. But we sort that all out. I’m for a Bellini, and it’s absolutely lovely.

From there we have a nice view of the Duomo and people out and about.

One of the servers from a place we’ve had dinner a few times spots as he passes by, and says hello. It’s endearing.

The food and drink are just right, and there’s enough pizza for Jason to take back to his family.

But first he walks us to the Academia. It’s a ways, but so far my foot’s holding up well, thank you.

There are helpers posted along the route to check, to give you direction. There’s a VERY long line for tickets, but Jason’s booked on line, so much shorter lines to get those tickets, to join the next line as we say Caio to Jason and BW, Kayla and I shuffle our way in.

Lots of rather glorious pre-Renaissance altar pieces, icons of the BVM most popular. On and around to more paintings, colors brilliant, some mythological interspersed with religious scenes.

We walk through the musical instrument display. Just fascinating. Cellos, violas, harpsichords, hurdy-gurdies—they win my best of show—drums, bells. Music spans the ages.

Down and around through a long display of various busts of Michelangelo, then into the open and the David.

He’s just as brilliant as I remember. The size, the scope, the detail. Every muscle, sinew, line and plane so amazingly realized. I think he looks cocky (I got this), and why not as he stands there, confident pose in his vibrant youth.

He dominates here, as he should.

We hear a little girl ask her mom: Mommy, why is that man naked?

It’s a valid question, but I think she’s too young to understand he’s naked because he goes into battle with nothing but his sling, his confidence and his faith.

I love looking at the master’s unfinished sculptures in the hall, how you can see what he started to reveal from the stone. The figures and feelings emerging, but still trapped and waiting.

Back we walk, a good hike. BW spots the shop where, on our first visit years ago, he bought a leather vest—custom made for him in one day. He, of course, still has it.

I spot gelato. SMALL cone this time, and perfect.

Back home, and let the games begin.

Danger Guy is thrilled. Mario and company navigate the rapids and waterfalls, avoid (or don’t) big fish, pop balloons. Soon, watching isn’t enough, and he leaps into danger, jumping from couch to hassock and back. The distance between increases with the jumps. I must request, for the sake of my blood pressure, they nudge closer.

Daddy spots him. Then, naturally tosses him around, flips him over the shoulder.

Danger Guy is in his element.

Games continue, Jason v Kayla. Kat knits more Knitted Knockers and I catch up on a hard news day back home.

Time for our last dinner at one of our favorite spots. More good food, more good wine (TWO splashes for Kat!) Much to enjoy. We talk plans for our departure, our arrival in our next home. Dessert because why not.

Home again. More packing and prep before bed.

Now I’ll pull the last of that together, pull myself together. Bags are starting to line up in the foyer. It’ll be interesting, to say the least, to load them all up.

Soon, it’s Arrivederci, Firenze, and onto the next.

Nora