Florence the eighth

I had quite the ramble today, out of the historic centre and into the less-storic periphery, some of which is alright, and some of which is long, straight dual carriageway lined with retail on the ground floor and office space above. And then every so often squozen in amongst the sprawl is a wee church.

Actually, the buildings were probably squozen in around the church.

Or a medieval gate on a traffic island. Inside was a two man band - accordion and tambourine. Not as annoying as you'd expect.

Oh my Gog! I'm so bummed at how this turned out, and also bummed that the synagogue has to be so completely fenced in, while Catholic churches just run wild in the street, like monkeys in Brazil. For the record, the synagogue is open to the public, but still.

Also on a traffic island, the quite lovely English Cemetery. From what I understand it's really a non-Catholic cemetery, but evidently pushy English expats forced their influence in. Elizabeth Barrett Browning is buried here, as well as some other people I've vaguely heard of.

What's petrol back home these days? Because that there is $2.96 NZ dollars per litre. Yikes.

Porta San Gallo. There seemed to be loveliness beyond, but between me and it was several lanes of unforgiving traffic.

Fountain in the gardens of Fortezza da Basso. I stared at it until it made me thirsty and I had to go in search of iced tea. And looking at it is making me thirsty again, but I drank all the iced tea. NOOOO!