I have arrived at the final episode of the journey and I write from the comfort of 🏡.
My last paragraph was (included here more for me than for you): Tomorrow morning I return the car (yay 🤣) and take the train to Roma where I'm sure my mood will improve tremendously. First, it's not nearly as cold. Second, there's tons to do if it rains. Third, it's ROMA. I should be at my hotel just off Piazza Navona around 2 pm, then 3 full days before my flight home Wednesday night.
Getting from Greve to the Florence airport was not the 45-minute drive that Google and the locals said it would be (did you really think it would be for ME? :-) I woke before the alarm went off, and took my time waking up and getting ready. I'd determined to be on the road by 8.30 to return the car by 10. At 7.30 I went down to bring the car from the parking lot to the front of the hotel. To my surprise, it was covered in a very hard layer of ice! All the windows and mirrors included. I spent a good 10 minutes alternately trying to scrape (using my driver's license) and using the windshield spritzer. I finally got a peephole of about 6-7". I very very very carefully drove up the narrow gravel path to the pavement and left the car in the middle of the tiny road. I correctly assumed that no one else would need to use it. Thankfully the car was now in sunshine and by the time I'd loaded all my stuff, all the ice had melted away. I was on the road at 8.20.
Everything was going smoothly, no traffic, easy curves and I even got on/off the tollway without a hitch. Then - you won't believe it - I took one wrong turn. By now I'd learned the best thing to do was turn around as soon as possible and go back to where I'd made the mistake. As I got closer and closer to the airport I started looking for a gas station (half full tank). When I passed the car return, I pulled over and asked Garmin to take me to the nearest gas station, which turned out to be very close and I even was able to fill up using my American credit card (with a chip, no PIN needed - and a good thing since I don't have one). I returned the car at 9.50. Plenty of time to unload the car and get to my train at Firenze SMN.
Another train ride in an almost empty car. This time I choose a silent car. There were all of 8 passengers. Then a Roman taxi to my hotel in a side street off Piazza Navona. I gave the driver (who naturally spoke nothing by Italian) the name and address on a piece of paper. I think driving a taxi in Rome is an awful job, there were mobs of tourists in the main streets, completely ignoring the cars. Then we drove through a warren of tiny streets lined with sidewalk cafes and more herds of tourists. Then the driver stopped and indicated that we'd arrived at the street the hotel was on. All cobblestones, me with a heavy bag (I refuse to pack "light") and no idea which direction or how far to walk. I sat tight and said "hotel!!!" We drove on for another 10E worth of cafe-littered alleyways until we arrived in front of my hotel.
I got into my room and out of my winter clothes. Rome was pleasantly warm and sunny. Piazza Navona was so inviting, I took a table and ordered an Aperol Spritz and bruschette and basked in the joy of the moment. Lots of happy tourists and a very few hawkers. The drink and snack were more than double the price around the corner, but you pay for the location. The bill came with a notice at the bottom "tip not included." After being trained by my Venetian B&B hosts, I completely stopped tipping in Italy and after about a day and a half, even stopped feeling guilty about it. The next day, I stopped for a "spritzetta" (a combo of spritz and bruschetta) for 1/3 the price about 3 doors down from my hotel. There were no tables available, but there were two friendly-looking young women at one with an empty chair. I asked if I could join them (you learn hutzpah as a solo traveler) and they were very welcoming. It turned out they were from Munich . . .