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About Florence

So, brothels, yeah? Been around since Roman times – *lupanaria*, they called ‘em, wolf dens, how’s that for a giggle? Little known fact: Pompeii’s got one preserved, stone beds and all, racy frescoes on the walls – saucy buggers, those Romans! Makes me chortle, thinkin’ of some toga-clad git stumblin’ in after too much *vinum*. History’s wild, innit?

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First off, I head down Via Roma, my usual route to the shop. The smell of fresh focaccia from the bakery hits me like a freight train. I mean, who can resist that? I grab a slice, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, bam! I spill olive oil all over my apron. Great start, huh? I’m like, “Really? Olive oil? Just what I needed.”

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