FLORENCE, ITALY

A MUGGING POSTPONED

Yesterday, I was rushing headlong toward my own mugging, until I got my bearings and parted company with my "benefactor".

It was about 5 o'clock and I was leaning against a wall on Via Faenza, studying the map. I didn't have much of a clue where I was when this slender, tall guy asked me if he could help. I said I was looking for Ponte Vecchio, and he said "follow me!"

He started on a brisk pace, so brisk that sometimes, when separated, I had to run to catch up with him. So fast, that even his friend was left behind.

After about six minutes, we emerged at the train station, the first place I recognized. That told me that he was taking me north, into his territory, when Ponte Vecchio lay south.

I said my goodbyes and we parted company.

USEFUL INFORMATION, UNREAD

In Milan, I went to the museum to The Last Supper and was asked if I had a reservation. First time in my life I had ever faced that situation. Of course, I had none. And I had gone to such trouble, walking and getting lost how many times to get there.

I had the foresight, when I flew Lufthansa on 24 August to Moscow, to rip out a page from the inflight magazine that talked about Milan. At that time, I wasn't sure I would visit Milan. But just in case. Well, that was 24 August.

Last night, 15 October, I pulled out the sheet of paper and read it for the first time. The relevant part said:

"The church of Santa Maria delle Grazie is home to one of the world's most famous painting, Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper. Admission is limited, so call ahead."

OK, so I blew Milan. So when I arrived in Florence, I called and got an appointment to see David at 11 o'clock this morning and a 1:15 tomorrow for Galleria Degli Uffizi where I expect to meet Venus Rising.

LOST IN FLORENCE

A few things can happen when you are lost and studying a map on the street. Usually, you are completely ignored. Also, unfortunately, you could be approached by someone who really wants you to part with your money.

Or, you could get help from some wonderful people. As I have in Paris, a couple times. And that's how I met Vera at the corner of Via Panicale and Via Dell' Ariento.

She left her store to enquire if I needed help and found out that we have somethings in common. Vera, a German, has lived in Jamaica, had a Jamaican in her life, and discovered Jamaican food.

For about half an hour, we chatted non-stop about the ways of people. We talked about reggae, about Rastafari, about the good things and the bad things about places. It blew her mind when I told her that in Jamaica, we used to pay to go see a movie, but before it hit the screen, we had to stand to the British national anthem. Imagine how screwed up minds must be. Without a gun in sight. Without a whip. We, exploited Jamaicans, stand obediently to God Save the King, or God Save the Queen!!! And, when the empire had sucked us dry, they gave us independence. But only after they were sure we were ready!

I know my country so little that I had to ask Vera where Treasure Beach was. It is on the south coast and I believe I have been there with former friends Sydney and Georgia White.

Of course, it was good to see David, but I had met him before. I met Vera for the first time and she made my day.

Patrick Barry Barr