There we are, a couple of Americans trying desperately to blend in and not look like tourists, yet failing quite miserably at this point because it is obvious to the masses that none of us know what our next move should be. Problems arise.

“When is the next train? Should we go wait for it?”

“Where was that one glass shop?”

“I’m hungry. Again.”

“I can’t read that sign.”
“*That’s because it is in Italian.”

“The map is still soggy.”

“I’m really sweating.”

And then a decision was made:

“Fuck it, let’s just go get gelato.”