On the fifth day of Christmas…

I got a free pass for the carousel.

This one is delving back a little now, and it wasn’t actually my date, but a friend’s. Leisurely walking the streets of Florence, one autumnal day, deciding whether it was too early for a Spritz or not (for the record, it never is), my friend was telling me about her night out, which ended in Piazza Duomo at the fine establishment, Mr. Pizza, in the early hours of the morning. There, sitting outside on the kerb, she had shared pizza slices with a guy. They had been messaging and she was keen to see him again. Knowing where he worked -a lovely café-cum-restaurant in the centre of Florence, we decided that there would be no better place for a Spritz than right there.

Continue reading


On the sixth day of Christmas…

I accidentally invited a stranger to join my date.

To be fair, he invited friends over to join first.

Again, from my list of language exchange numbers, I organised to go for a drink with Andrea number two. He was nice, but conversation was a bit dry. At one stage, he was telling me how milk was made; that Italian milk was made specifically with certain enzymes so that it frothed well for making cappuccinos. To be fair, it was kind of interesting, but I didn’t have much to give in return on the topic of enzymes, so…

Continue reading

On the seventh day of Christmas…

there was Luca.

He had also attended the language exchange event, and I vaguely remembered his face. He apparently didn’t remember my face, judging by the welcome I received.

We met at the train station, after work. I ought to have cancelled this date in the afternoon when the messages began. Having arranged to meet at 5pm outside the pharmacy, there didn’t seem to be much more to say. Luca had other ideas.

Continue reading