They are from different parts of the world, I can see that. This is a mixed group of people that share common ideas. They are very familiar to me because I grew up surrounded by them. My parents were very vocal in the sixties.

They still dress like this, they still think the same things and I agree in almost everything.

JJ is a bit like them too. I feel at home in the middle of the demonstration. Any of these people could be sitting in my father's living room, smoking pot, drinking wine, eating cheese with baguettes and talking endlessly.

Some of the guys are very, very cute. I like guys with very long hair and with that intellectual look in their eyes. I love to be part of the long conversations.

To JJ it's just a lot of rethoric because there are no easy answers.

I'm sitting by the fontana, writing this and thinking about what just happened.

I was seeing two revolutions at once, maybe three. The renaissance, the student movements of the sixties and the anarchist movement of today.

But I wonder how would these people act if they were in a city in South America where the police don't just stand there looking at them with a smile in their faces.

I was thinking of that image of Margot in the front page of a newspaper, looking down at an Indian woman who was shot during a demonstration in the Andes. Or the day I had to run down a cobble stone street, escaping the tear gas thrown at us.

This demonstration is so lame in comparison.

The few hours we had to visit Firenze are over. We have to rush back to the train station to take the train back to France.