On my continuing trek south in search of warm mediterranean weather, I found myself in Pisa. Alas, the weather was unseasonably cold, and it rained daily.

Pisa is, of course, famous for its failed architecture, the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The city’s tourist trade revolves entirely around Americans daytripping to Pisa so they can take gag photos of themselves pushing over or propping up the tower. After that, there’s a strip of tourist restaurants and shops, and the train back to Florence. From the standpoint of that stereotypical tourist, there’s not much else to do until the train leaves. My plan was to fill that void with a show and a hat pass, a couple blocks down the strip from the tower.

What I learned was that void was not really there. People didn’t hang around, and the train back to Florence leaves every 30 minutes. I primarily found myself performing for the locals. A larger percent of them spoke some English, and they were pretty good at stopping. A lot of my jokes went over their heads, and they were not generous tippers. But the shows weren’t actually failing, but they did limp and stumble a bit.

But as I said, it rained a lot. I was able to get in a show some days, and a couple others not so much. I did feel like I made a bit of progress towards a more physical, less verbal, show, even with the small number of shows.

The weather in London, meanwhile, has started to improve. Coming south was never the plan, but something I improvised when London was too cold and I remembered I had an unlimited train pass. From a busking standpoint, I haven’t kicked much butt, altho it was an interesting excursion into new lands. But we’re getting back to the original plan, and I’m heading back up to London in the morning, by way of Zurich, as I want to meet with a magic builder there.