After the exhibition, we went to a local wine bar and then a cantina that plays a mizx of live and DJ music. As the night drew to a close and the first sight of daylight became apparent, those that remained began to walk together back to the location of the art exhbit.
Then just as we were about to bid one another arreverderci, I remembered reading about the all night pasteries in Florence. Keen to explore whether "warm brioches served through a small door in the middle of the night" were of fact of fiction, we walked together to one of the bakeries and stood patiently waiting for the door to open.
Rumors had also indicated, that once the noise level becomes too high, frustrated and sleep deprived locales throw buckets of water from their windows. Unfortunately many of the those that were gathered around us were intoxicated and spoke in high pitched voices, which resulted in the unexpected drenching of all my friends. As we walked home through the cold night air, with soaked clothes and damp hair, we nestled the brioche in the fold of our hands and giggled - it felt like we were eighteen again.
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