I’ve been so homesick for Florence these past few years. This city will forever retain it’s magical aura. It doesn’t matter how many tourists there are crowded around the Duomo or that the city is bursting at the seams with Americans who are ”studying” here so that they can shop for Gucci, Pucci and Prada, because there’s nothing like living in the present amongst countless treasures of the past. Nothing.
Jake has been kind enough to let me drag him through my memories while I speak in a mixture of Italian and English, showing him priceless sculptures, paintings, Renaissance architecture, Roman ruins and gastronomic delights. Florence is a city that must be tasted as well as seen.
I was worried that my Italian verbal skills, which have remained almost entirely dormant for the past three years, wouldn’t make any sense to native speakers, but somehow I’ve been able to carry on real conversations solo in Italiano. I really need to take another class or find someone to practice with at home…che bella lingua!
I know these streets. It’s been 3 years, but I still remember the alleyways and tiny residential roads. My fruit vendor is still selling blood oranges on Via di Bardi, the minuscule shop that sells those physically addictive “pizette” near my first apartment is still there (yes, the ones with carciofi taste exactly the same), and crossing the street is still synonymous with staring death in the face.
1 Comment
November 16, 2006 at 5:24 pm
Hi,
Awww, I wish I could jump on you with my muddy paws!! Have fun.
Woof