Florence's nightingale

We're in Marina Pisa, which is just inside the mouth of the river Arno, and will be spending the next few days visiting Pisa and Florence. I was in Florence over 20 years ago, well, maybe longer than that, but it would give away personal information if I told you exactly how long ago it was, so I won't.

Anyway, my favourite place in Florence at that time was not the Uffizi Gallery nor the Duomo cathedral, not even the naked statue of David, but the train station bar where a fat, Paganini look-a-like cook would call out at the top of his tenor, "fettuccine alfredo," and "tortellini al burro," or more like, "fettuccine alfrEEEdo", and " tortellini alBUUUrro," aimed at the customers who waited for their orders and then sat at the bar scarfing the delicious, smelling of garlic and shiny with olive oil delicacies before running off to catch their respective trains. I could have sat there all day just listening to the cook: huge, fat, sweating over the grill and laughing.

When I arrived breakfastless this morning, the first thing I did was to head expectantly towards that bar. What greeted me was not the fat cook's voice, but the hum of refrigerated pop machines and the shiny counters and clean glass of display cases of a sandwich and pastry take outs wrapped in plastic. UGH!!! What a disappointment. I spun around on my heel and left disappointed.

Most of Florence in general was a disappointment this time around: dirty, rude, expensive, with none of the Italian soul anywhere.

Perhaps you cannot go back. Perhaps many years ago I didn't notice the dirt and construction scaffolding on the cathedrals. Perhaps the fountain was on the side of the Piazza della Signotia and not in the centre as I remember it. Perhaps there were fewer tourists then.

Over the course of the day I made peace with Florence. I enjoyed walking across the Ponte Vecchio and down the narrow streets in the old city. I sat at a cafe and ate an overpriced panninni. I went inside a cathedral and took photos.

And later I found a new favourite experience of Florence that will stay in my mind until I return again: as I was walking towards the Duomo Cathedral, I heard a soprano voice singing "Ave Maria", coming from one of the narrow streets. I followed its call to find a young girl who was its source and a young man accompanying her on an accordion. A crowd of listeners was blocking the traffic and once again time stood still. The magic of Florence.