Sunshine in Raindrops
Tales Round River Arno in Florence, Italy...
© Ani Corné | From My Archives (November, 2009 - Florence)
I spent eleven wonderful years in the beautiful Renaissance city of Florence, Italy.
During those years, I had the opportunity to travel all over this incredible country so rich in culture and, moreover, with absolutely the kindest and most hospitable people I have ever met. Italy truly became my home. Had tragedy not struck with my father's unexpected death in 2012 and my very sick mother needing my help, I don't think I would have ever returned to the country of my birth.
Those years in Italy were indeed the very best years of my life!
It was unusually quiet. The narrow little streets covered with their broken patchwork of natural stones were still deserted apart from a few delivery services and myself.
Heaven had decided to present us with a very fine drizzle this morning, almost like super wet fog. For the first time this month, the air smelled of coming snow. Not that it would really snow any time soon in Florence, but I wished it would. Anything were better than this 'soup'.
And yet, after walking a while, I forgot about the weather, as I passed by the many small craft shops slowly coming alive; for example, the sometimes tiny, but quite original boutiques like “Pitti Vintage”, near Palazzo Pitti, or the ingenious little art studio for glass jewellery in the street next to it that looked like something out of an old film. This quarter I loved so much, was waking up. The number of friendly faces I encountered grew constantly on my way from Via Santo Spirito to Ponte Vecchio. These faces just had to make you smile along with them, so sincerely gay in spirit were they.
My love for this area of the city instantly grew in intensity, as always when I was able to enjoy a leisure walk along the small streets close to the Arno river. Indeed, my disappointment over the weather had quickly changed into enthusiasm due to the many interesting encounters.
There was the nice proprietor of the frame shop, where antique painting frames were restored to their old splendour. He invited me in with a nod and asked, whether I wanted to stay for an espresso, while I watched him polish a fine cover of gold paste onto a large frame. That's how Italians are! They don't stand on ceremony, they enjoy life as single day occurrences, each to be savoured with as much “gusto” as possible. So, we chatted a little about the rain, because it was such a contrast to yesterday's beautiful sunny clear skies. And, of course, the coming winter, which we really don't know that much about here in Florence, as it only lasts about two months. But, I agreed with him, this year, autumn had started early and November was unusually cold.
After an amiable chat of ten minutes, I wanted to excuse myself to resume my morning walk, but it took me three attempts of making my good-byes, because each was met with a sad reiteration of “Ah, ma non Signora, deve stare un po'.. una bella donna come lei... sarà bagnata in questo tempo”, which meant as much as “But you have to stay a little bit, a beautiful lady such as you, you will be drenched in this weather.” He was intentionally oblivious to the large umbrella I was carrying.
I must say, I was flattered. Of course, Italians were masters at making nice compliments to women, in fact, they seemed to consider it their patriotic duty. Nonetheless, they usually delivered it with such sincerity and charm that any conversation indubitably became a lovely innocent flirt bound to make you feel better, especially on a grey and rainy morning.
Finally, and a bit regretful, I made my way out of the workshop. My next stop was the newspaper stand right in front of the “Ponte Vecchio”. Translated it means the “old bridge”, and it is here, where most of the goldsmiths and jewellers have their shops. The bridge is not only one of the best known historical landmarks of Florence for tourists, but also a meeting place for lovers and students from all over the world.
During the day, of course, mostly tourists would flock around the tiny stores on the bridge, each displaying their fine craft of glittering gold. Also, many a visitor is tempted by the products spread out on the ground, left and right of the bridge, displaying various fashion articles such as bags, sun glasses or watches (which you shouldn't buy, as they are usually cheap counterfeits of well-known labels being sold by some poor devils of illegal immigrants). Everyone knows their activity on the bridge is illegal, but usually they are left alone to go about their business. Only when representatives of the law decide to show up, a sudden scurry would ensue. In mere seconds, these street sellers gather up the large white linen sheets, upon which their goods are displayed, or simply fold large card-board pieces together, their products clipped on inside, and vanish into the crowd. Rarely do they get caught. Having observed this regularly occurring ritual many a time, I meanwhile doubt that one is seriously interested in them, because a majority of the officers seem to feel more pity for these guys and less the will to arrest them. However, European law makes it illegal to buy or own such counterfeit products, i.e. you will get into trouble, if caught trying to buy them (and meanwhile, there are hefty fines involved).
At night, the “old bridge” morphs into a fiesta zone, with street musicians entertaining locals and foreigners alike, the latter mostly being students and lovers that come here to romance under the Florence moon. There is a custom to attach a small lock onto the gate of the monument standing on one side of the bridge, right in the middle where the bridge's upper walls opens up to both sides to allow a most enchanting view of the river. This practice has taken on such a magnitude that meanwhile the lovely custom (sadly) is forbidden and all locks have been removed. I assume it won't last long, or at least, let's say that lovers won't be deterred, once they have a romantic notion in their head. Just as pennies are still being thrown into the Trevi Fountain in Rome, so will locks be adorning this special place on Ponte Vecchio in the future again.
But, coming back to my news stand! I always buy my daily papers at this stand that is located on the corner of Ponte Vecchio, Borgo San Iacopo and Via dei Bardi. A great place to get the news of the world in its original media print. Right next to it, bordering on Ponte Vecchio, is a small café and ice cream shop, where you can sit outside (even in the winter) and drink your Espresso, while leisurely leafing through the reading material or map you just bought or watch people passing by. But of course, it never is just a stop-over for coffee. After all, this is Italy! So, between a chat with the newspaper guy about his wife and kids, and exchanging the latest gossip with the café owner, while drinking delicious freshly brewed coffee, I always spend more time there than originally intended.
After another 45 minutes and more than one cup of coffee, I made my way back through Borgo San Iacopo, said side street veering off from the Ponte Vecchio.
At number 17r (the “r” stands for red and means it is a commercial address, black numbers are for private residences), one of my favourite places in this quarter is located. An enchanting old fashioned workshop called “La Luna e Le Stelle” (= the moon and the stars). This classic dressmakers workshop has remained unaffected by the passage of time. It is a place for romantics, for people that want to give their wardrobe a more personal touch, and also for women of a certain age, who want to add an elegant flourish to their attire. They also repair clothes, so it's a good address when you just don't want to let go of a much loved piece of clothing, which might already have seen better days.
Today, however, the shop was closed. A small sign in the window informed me that due to illness it would remain closed for a few days. What a shame, I would have to come back another time to ask about the progress on my old coat, which I had dropped off a few days ago to give it a new set of buttons.
Strolling along Borgo San Iacopo, there is always much to see, for example, the famous restaurant Mamma Gina, that's been meeting and dinner place for many a celebrity as well as locals appreciating good old-fashioned Tuscan cuisine. The Borgo ends at Piazza Frescobaldi named after the famous aristocratic wine dynasty, which by the way, also owns the palace where I had recently rented an apartment (my lovely new home inside an enchanting park).
Crossing the piazza, straight ahead waited my street, Via Santo Spirito. It is more like a little village, where everyone knows one another. My neighbours are flower and antique shops, jewellery artists, a coffee bar and, of course, the Frescobaldis.
No need to mention that making my way down there was just as enjoyable as my walk before, because it included a chat with my friend Fabio, one of the owners from the antiques shop and furniture restaurateurs “Marino”, while padding his great German Sheppard Rusty; a hot milk at Luciano's “Café Santo Spirito”, a quick pop-in at Aprosio, the artist jewellery with the delicate designs in pearls and finally my return to the Palazzo Frescobaldi, where I was met with a hearty “Buongiorno” by Ivan, one of the porters, who handed me my mail commenting about the "ghastly" weather. “Ghastly”? I now had so much sunshine in my heart, that this day felt simply glorious!
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