You know you're in Italy when:

You get spied on while showering. Yeah, this takes some explaining. So, Layne and I arrive at her friend's apartment on Saturday night. We'd been up for over 17 hours. Walking. All day. All I wanted was a peaceful shower.

I turn on the water. Of course it's hardly more than a trickle. That's good though, since there's only a curtain on one side. As I wash away the grime of Firenze, I look up and gasp. Is that? Yes, it most certainly is. A man. Leaning out of his balcony. Watching me. Shower. There's a window there? What!? What do I do?

I didn't linger in the shower, that's for sure.

There it is. One of the top left apartments. I was the topic of most jokes for the next day. In Italian. Mortifying, to say the least. And quite amusing, in retrospect.

This is Kathryn. She's fantastic, and this was her last day. She came to visit me and watch me eat a snail.

It truly was bizzare. And absolutely delicious. Who knew I'd become such a diverse eater while in Italy?

Another first:

I ate raw sausage.

Yeah. Layne got a "fresh sausage" sandwich. Fresh is an understatement. I'm not converted.