Hah! I found the journal. Here are substantial excerpts. I'm not too worried about exposing too much of myself. Sort of like the money belt I took traveling, I am never without my filter
I'm not speaking much, but some of it is Italian. Apparently Italian people like wagons and hatchbacks as much as I do. They drive on cobblestones and probably don't whine about potholes. For a while I was flattered that lots of people asked me for directions in lots of languages, but I think its just that I am a woman by myself and as such unthreatening. Most of the women I've seen by themselves are walking dogs, and they are certainly not tourists. Really not alone either, and possibly not unthreatening. It's easy to smile at people walking dogs, just like at home.
Churches or cathedrals that are hundreds of years old smell just like churches I've attended. What is that smell? Marble, stained glass, candles, people, holiness? It would be difficult to forget God with the church bells around here. I'm not experiencing Florence night life. If you pick up gravel here, you might be picking up bits of Etruscan, Roman, or at least Medieval antiquities.
I did mail postcards. I changed dollars and felt cheated. I think the ATM is better. I can't take the bus to Poppi. It isn't running because of the bicycle race. The train doesn't go directly. A taxi will cost 120 euros. It has been many years since I spent this long out of the presence of people who love me. I am awkward and sad.