The David, tripa, and the Pope's digs in 27 snaps. BY INA AMOR MEJIA
THE FOLKS FROM OUR HOTELS from ten months ago have been emailing me incessantly about new room deals. Yes, I miss them too. And I can't believe it's been nearly a year since our whirlwind Euro trip. Some of it is a blur, but many things remain particularly clear. Actually, unforgettable.
After Paris and Geneva we took those crazy-fast Trenitalia trains to Italy. The moment we arrived in Florence I knew I had made the mistake of not booking more days. This small, magical city, bursting with art, where every local we met loved to say, "No problem!" And then glorious Rome with its contagious energy. I still smell the cigar smoke wafting in the cold air, I remember the sounds from the abbey outside our hotel, and the feeling of being staggered by the Vatican.
