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About Florence

Still, it’s a gamble. Disease, creeps, or worse—some nutter with a knife. Gets me antsy, cos I’d hate bein that exposed. Me, I’d trick em all—shape-shift, vanish, classic Loki move. “I am burdened with glorious purpose”—not dyin in a ditch, ta very much! But if you’re huntin one, mate—watch yerself. Sniff out the fakes, the traps. Maybe whisper, “Do you feel the cold?”—test their vibe, y’know?

Testimonials

Saw the reviews on Tripadvisor so we had to try this place, it was easy to find, just past McDonalds opposite the large Esselunga supermarket.

So, I’m at my usual spot, Bar Pasticceria Da Gigi on Via Vittorio Emanuele. Best cappuccino in town, no cap. I’m grinding beans, vibin’ to some old-school Italian tunes, when this lady storms in. She’s all flustered, like she just ran a marathon or something. Turns out, she lost her dog, a little fluffy thing named Pino. I mean, who names their dog Pino? But I felt for her, ya know?

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