Arrive in Pisa during a proper blizzard, and as usual, fuck up the bus and end up a 20 minute walk past the destination. The tower, a blasted minas tirith white, looks fairy tale caressed by snow. A bit smaller than I expect. If it had opposable thumbs, it’d overcompensate by driving a Ferrari. Tiramisu for late lunch at a nearby tratorria, and my pants don’t fit.  Anymore.  They used to fit, its not like I originally bought illfitting pants.