Our apartment in Lucca
It’s a bit odd because it hasn’t much of a sitting room. The best room is the big bedroom which is, well, big. Airy, too. I’m propped up on the bed now. Two fans are whirring and a breeze is blowing through the balcony door. It’s siesta time and Mrs. Woodleigh, having set up the fans to point at her, is reading next to me.
The kitchen is narrow, better for one than for two, but functional and very well-equipped. There’s a dishwasher and a toaster. It also has a TV on which I’ve watched parts of two World Cup matches while sitting at the kitchen table.
The sitting room is more like a foyer with a couple of chairs in it. There’s also a small bedroom that we haven’t found much use for; our hand-wash hangs in there.
Our landlady, Violetta, is a bubbly, generous Lucchese. She stocked the apartment food and drink to get us started. Violetta also keeps a fat binder full of information about the town and nearly towns. She’s visiting us on Friday, at 19:30. She’s bringing over a cake, a local delicacy.
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