Just do it. Seriously. If you’re even speculating. You’re thinking hmmm it’s gorgeous but can we really afford... fuck all that.
Eat rice and ketchup for a month if you have to, this apartment is quite simply the loveliest, most utterly spectacular spot in a city full of pretty good spots.
You’ll get to look at fat cats with silly white shoes waddle in to bazillion dollar a night hotels and just go - your digs ain’t nothing compared to mine.
It’s just on another level. And the location - I mean come on. If you don’t stay here, where are you gonna stay? Exactly, in some forgettable pokey dungeon miles from any decent gelato. And you’ll spend the whole time remembering that you could be here but you chickened out or you thought your girlfriend would want a jacuzzi or white leather sofas or something. She doesn’t - no one does.
Ya reckon Audrey Hepburn gave a fig for jacuzzis? Course she didn’t, she wanted nice wooden beams, a killer view and to feel like a princess.
It’s not complicated.