Buon giorno

I’m just waking up to sunny rays glowing through a double stone bell tower and breakfast prepared in the town square below my window. Siena is calling, and I need to get up and be like the travel journalist who’s been turning out fabulous video footage since he got here. I’m kind of ashamed to be enjoying my … suite? It’s like a tiny Tuscan palace, with a stone tiled bathroom, two vasque sinks, a leather sofa, a double bed. I could work here. I mean, really. Don’t they want to pay me to just stay here and write about how fabulous it is to work in their facilities? hmm.

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This morning we’re heading to Siena, this afternoon spa treatment. I want to float in the salt pool. I saw the gastronomy journalist walking around in her spa robe, and I seriously want to do that. To walk through ‘town’ in my robe. But I can’t figure out whether I should go barefoot, wear my slippers, or throw on my Converse; and she is about as friendly as the pretentious food she reviews. I don’t feel comfy asking her, and yes, I forgot to look at her feet. This is my biggest problem today – spa etiquette. Egad.

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