Sunday evening we ventured out to find a local spot for dinner. Apparently the Italians do not come alive until after the sun sets and then eat late. While searching the surrounding neighborhoods we stumbled upon what appeared to be a festival. Happily saundering across the lawns towards the tents we were discussing the possibilities for dinner when Bridget stopped and doubled over in laughter...wait until you see the pics....it was actually a large series of tents with baloons and booths set up for a "kinder" party....! Needless to say we turned and left before anyone asked what we were up to.
Leaving there we crossed a bridge and found an ice skating rink! Bridget tried but I refused to don skates, fearing I'd fall and break something. I did agree to return our last night so, should I injure myself, I could rest on the flights home. We managed to ask those in charge, in our very broken Italian, if they would still be open next weekend. Ah shucks, they will be gone by then!
We did discover the small restaurant where we had a lovely meal and then walked back for an early night. I was amazed to learn tipping is not customary in Italy and is not expected either...this at the advice of our dinner server.

By 9:00 p.m. we were both asleep with a 7:00 a.m. wake up call requested.