While I was touring Italy with my French friend Clarisse (which is also my roommate in Madrid), I had yet another confirmation that my sense of direction gets worse with age. I must say that I never really had a sense of direction so I do not know at this point, we can speak of a grew worse ... However, as the map of the city kept the Poor Clares, who had never been to Florence, we lost and we ended up at 3 Via dei Serragli. If you're ever in Florence, a little 'out of the classic tourist route Piazza della Signoria - Ponte Vecchio - Uffizi, there is this small library with a kitchen that is called cuckoo. Worth a visit two reasons. The first is the space and pesonal are very welcoming, and the second: the sauce, Tuscan olive oil with which to garnish the dishes to reflect on the meaning of life. 
Want the environment, either because the books that you can browse and chat and wait to be served ... in the midst of all this we asked a question: Since I do not know his language, and she does not know my (our elected English to communicate, the language of which we have a vocabulary dramatically poorer than that which each of us may have in their native language) ... we would see if we could communicate differently in our respective languages? The answer we found because in the meantime we have served, and because of the sauce of olive oil I think, we went to the theme of the meaning of life.
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