Ti Mancherai, ti voglio bene Firenze

2nd October

Il barista nel mio bar locale conosce il mio ordine di caffè; Sono conosce di vista l'antiquario che ha sempre fumando sul marciapiede all'ingresso al mio appartamento. Anche il duo che fanno il giro di tutte le piazze di serenata con canzoni classiche italiane sulla fisarmonica e chitarra so che sarò sempre dare loro un paio di euro.Mi mancheranno sentire le campane dell'Angelus ogni pomeriggio come mi siedo a fare i compiti. Mi mancheranno vedo gli tramonto da Ponta Santa Trinita. Mi mancheranno tutti gli italiani sulle loro biciclette, nonostante loro vogliono mi schiacciar. Non posso credere che questo sogno di vivere a Firenze per un breve soggiorno è finita. 

The barista in my local bar knows my coffee order, I'm on nodding terms with the antique dealer who's always smoking on the footpath outside his shop next to the entrance to my apartment. Even the duo who make the rounds of all the piazze to serenade with their versions of Italian classics on accordion and guitar know they can rely on me for a couple of euro.

I know where the best fruit is, the best gelati (Piazza della Passera), the best pastries (Dolce & Dolcezze) I hardly ever get lost in the maze of tiny vie, vicoli, chiassi, borgi and piazze, I even have a hairdresser. I can't believe my Fiorentina adventure is over, that I won't hear the bells of the Angelus as I sit doing homework or reading. While the next few weeks hold some wonderful destinations across Italy, this lovely interlude is over. 

Of course it hasn't all been wine and roses (well lots of wine, no roses, except those offered by touts at every restaurant to every couple) With little notice the school changed classes from morning to afternoon in the third week when David joined me, throwing in to disarray some of our plans. Then we both got sick and I missed three days of my last week.

My charming apartment senza vista was feeling a bit claustrophobic by the fifth week and the idea that I would find a space to study and read was stymied by the fact that there are very few public spaces with places to sit and work which don't charge.

While the Fiorentine lifestyle certainly appeals, some of the Fiorentini don't. There is a certain arrogance about them, particularly men, a lack of warmth which I had heard about before arriving but which I didn't want to prejudge them on. Being a bloody-minded Australian woman I walked out of shops several times when the proprietor seemed completely disinterested in serving me. The first time the young bartender in my local cafe slopped my prosecco all over my glass as he plonked it down in front of me I gave him  the benefit of the doubt, but by the third time I had to ask, is there something I've done to offend you, or do you just hate your job?

I would recommend this adventure to anyone who is serious about learning a language, but if I were to do it again purely for language learnng, I would choose a different city. Much as I love Florence I think the learning experience would be enhanced by living in a city a little less tourist-focused, with fewer English speakers. Which is not to say I won't be back, I certainly will. The dream was to spend a month in Florence learning the language:tick. Next dream, finding some way to come and live in the city for 6 months. I've checked out a few apartments, I've got contacts in the city, now I just have to find a way to justify it!

Acqua in bocca

Abbiamo imparato molte espressioni idiomatici nelle nostre classe: "Avere l'acqua in bocca" significa mantenere un segreto - quando si ha l'acqua in bocca non si può parlare senza spargimento! In questa casa, io ho l'acqua in bocco riguardo a alcuni posti quale ho scoperto a Firenze.*

When you think of Florence you think, as I always did before I arrived, of the cradle of so many things we think of as Italian - art, fashion, culture, the Renaissance, the Medici dynasty, the food. The Duomo looms as large in the public perception of Florence as the structure itself does in the cityscape. Even the Italian language was born in this beautiful city. 

What you don't realise until you've given yourself time to really explore, is how easy it is to step beyond those ideas and find yourself in a very different city. It's not just a case of being able to slip down a narrow alley and find yourself in a little piazza with a tiny stone church getting ready for a traditional wedding. 

You can walk less than five minutes from one of the most popular tourist hotspots, Piazzale Michelangelo, and find yourself in a place very few tourists visit - a country lane which could well be in the deepest Tuscan countryside (often with a different view of the Duomo). You can step away from a suburban supermarket carpark into a park topped by a palazzo where you encounter only a jogger and a couple of dogwalkers, or get a sneak peek over a garden wall into acres of olive groves.

It takes a while to realise that this city which seems so important on the world stage, is really a large provincial town, with fewer than 400,000 residents and city limits which are probably less than 10kms across at its widest. Of course that population is hugely expanded by the presence of tourists ( 2 million this Summer season alone), but as long as they stay away from my secret places - va bene.

* In Italian classes we learnt a lot of idioms. Avere l'acqua in bocca literally translates as to have water in your mouth - but means to keep a secret. If you have water in your mouth you can't speak without spilling it . I have water in my mouth about some of the places I discovered while in Firenze.

Saggio Fotografica

Questo viaggio non ho fatto un sacco di fotografie. Ho deciso che non possono cattura le cose che voglio ricordare, e a volte sono meglio tenevo nel mio cervello e cuore. Nonostante questo, qui sono alcuni che mi piace.*

It's fig season, and we were lucky enough to be eating figs fresh from the trees for breakfast when we stayed in Greve.

 è le stagione de fichi, e siamo stati fortunati abbiamo potuto mangiare fichi freschi dagli alberi per la colazione quando siamo stati a Greve.

At the Arezzo antiques fair, a bunch of balloons with legs.

Alla Fiera Antiquaria di Arezzo, l'uomo sembrava un grappolo di palloncini con le gambe.

Firenze's Rose Garden is beautiful, very quiet in the early morning, and home to fantastic sculptures.

Mi piace molto Il Giardino di Rose a Firenze. Era molto tranquille nella mattina e ci sono sculture fantastico

This fantastic little family-owned pasticceria is renowned for it's rich and decadent chocolate cake, but its tarts and cornettos are fantastic. I am seriously considering transplanting a version of this treasure back to Melbourne!

Questa e il migliore pasticceria a Firenze (secondo me!) Le torte al cioccolato è indimenticabile ma anche le paste è buone.

A flower seller near Santa Maria Novella.

Un piccolo negozio di fiori in vicino di Santa Maria Novella

So many fantastic places to eat: Cozze con pasta at Osteria Santo Spirito; Coniglio at Trattoria Casalinga in Santo Spirito; Insalata tonno fumato with gorgonzola cream at Amble; Fresh grilled porcini mushroom salad a casa mia.

Last view of Firenze from Palazzo Vecchio Torre.

This trip I have not taken a lot of photos. I decided that they can't capture the things that I want to remember and that sometimes it is better to keep them in my heart and mind. Nevertheless here are some that I like.

Comincio di capire

Questa settimana tutti gli studenti hanno iniziato la scuola e l'universita e Firenze è piena. E troppo caldo di nuovo, e la zanzare sono sempre me mangia. Ma va bene, sono a Firenze e c'è sempre qualcosa che accade in una piccola piazza o di un grande palazzo (o fiume)*

I can quite clearly remember the sensation of learning to read, sitting on my father's lap as he read the newspaper and being able to figure out the shape of the words that he read out to me.  I was young, about 4 according to my mother, but it opened up a whole world that has given me pleasure ever since.

Learning a language as an adult is probably the closest we'll come to having a sense of what it was like to be a child learning to read, or a toddler beginning to understand the words of those around us. Meaning starts to reveal itself gradually. Where once there was babble, slowly you start to recognise a word or two, then you find you can get a sense of a conversation (Italians talk about food a lot!) The polite questions of a salesperson make complete sense, and you can respond appropriately.  

Simple conversations are possible although political discussions are more difficult (or those of the heart- there is only so many times you can say "Purtroppo" or "Spiacente" or "che piccante') My language classes in Firenze are not very different from those in Melbourne & the teachers are great, but what is making the biggest difference is that I am surrounded by the language whenever I step out of the door.  I fumble through every transaction in as much Italian as I can muster (I have mastered "Sto studiando Italiano, per favore possiamo parlare Italiano") but most of all I listen, listen, listen. I'm not sure if those I am listening to know that I can understand them - I haven't overheard anything rude yet!

* This week all the students have started school and university and FLorence is full. it is also very hot again and the mosquitoes are always eating me. But that's ok, I'm in Florence and there is always something going on in a little square, a grand avenue (or the river)

Maleducato

Il turismo è molto buono per l'economia italiana, ma si ha molti problemi. Alcuni dei problemi parte sono causati da turisti che sono maleducato. Questa è una parola molto migliore di quella inglese "rude", perché il problema è davvero che la gente sta male-educati. Prima di un viaggio in un paese educare te stesso su usi e costumi e non essere scortese. Indossare abiti modesti quando si visita una chiesa. Non si arrampichi sulle statue antiche, non bere e mangiare sui gradini di una chiesa. Non scrivere sui muri del Duomo. Trova una toilette quando si ha bisogno di fare la pipì! Non farlo in strada (ed essere onesti, ho visto gli Italiani lo fanno anche)*

Approaching the end of my project, I have very mixed feelings. On the one hand I am living the dream, to be learning Italian and experiencing Florence in a way that no brief visitor can. I can pop down to the communal rubbish bins on the corner to deposit my recycling, green waste, and rubbish (no garbage collection here) and on the way back via the Santo Spirito Square happen upon a concert of the music of Fabrizio de Andre (an Italian Leonard Cohen, he even sang a version of Susanne in Italian), with small orchestra and full choir on the steps of the magnificent Santa Spirito church. 

I can take the time (after class of course!) to wander through parts of Florence that most tourists never see; to line up with Florentines from outside the Porta to buy a roll jam-packed with lampredotto (Google it - it's not for vegetarians, but unsurprisingly delicious) for 3 euros. I can catch a movie in the magnificent Odeon Theatre, or walk over to the Mercato Sant'Ambrogio for supplies.

I like to think I am different, but really I see me everywhere - middle-aged women wondering around looking a little lost, but happy to be so, struggling with basic Italian with mostly patient Florentine shopkeepers and taxi-drivers. My small class of 5 is multicultural, but all, again, just me: 3 53 year olds and a glamorous 40 something, even the teacher is 53! A new student started yesterday and she really mixed it up: She's 70!

When I went to the fabulous Odeon Cinema to see a movie on Thursday night, it was an English movie with Italian subtitles which was great for my Italian, of the 40 or so attendees, you've guessed it, 90% were women over the age of 50.

So the 'other hand' of this wonderful experience I am having is that I am living the cliche and adding to the problems a city like Florence has. It is essentially overrun with people like me, as well as the legion of other demographics who invade.

I have discovered that the Italian word is maleducato, and we even had a segment on it in class in our textbooks - which of these things is maeducato, and I've seen them all: scantily clad tourists wandering through sacred spaces; people eating pizza and drinking beer on the steps of the Duomo; graffiti scrawled on ancient walls and statues. Laneways often smell of piss and as I walk to school through the Santa Spirito, I have to watch my step, lest I step in a pile of vomit.

When I happened upon that amazing concert in Santo Spirito square, the experience was spoiled for all by the drunken Englishmen who stood alongside on the (church) steps beer in hands talking loudly and oblivious to anything but their own enjoyment. 

While I may do the right thing and carry my rubbish down to the communal bins at the end of the street, many visitors, confused by the process will simply leave them on the street.

I hasten to add that I don't think its middle-aged women peeing, barfing and otherwise leaving their mark on this awe-inspiring city, in fact it may well be locals, but it's symptomatic of a city filled to bursting and beyond, a city of 360,000 people which was invaded this last summer by 2 million visitors!

*Tourism is very good for the Italian economy, but it has many problems. Some the problems are caused by tourists who are rude. This is a much better word than the English one "rude" because the problem really is that people are badly-educated. Before travelling to a country educate yourself about the customs and habits and don't be rude. Wear modest clothes when visiting a church. Don't climb on ancient statues, don't drink and eat on the steps of a church. Don't write on the walls of the Duomo. Find a toilet when you need to pee! Don't do it in the street

Sfidarmi / Challenging times

Francesca insistito che avrei dovuto scrivere un po 'del mio blog in italiano, perché naturalmente io sono qui per imparare l'italiano! Mi scuso con chi non parla italiano, ma provare Google Translate - giusto Francesca? (haha uno scherzo - a lei odia Google Translate!)*

La settimana scorsa, ho cominciato a Centro Fiorenza, la mia scuola italiana per 4 settimane. Dopo il test, mi hanno messo nel livello B1, che è un po superiore al mio livello in Australia. La prima settimana passò molto velocemente, e ogni pomeriggio dopo le lezioni, ho bisogno di un pisolino. Questo livello è molto difficile perché gli altri studenti parlano meglio di me. Capisco e leggo bene, ma parlare è una lotta. Ma va bene, mi sfidano.

Basta, ora in inglese:

My second week in Florence has been all about settling in to classes. We start at 9.10 and finish at 12.50 with a 20 minute 'pausa' during which there is a rush down the stairs to get to the bar 'vicino alla scuola' for a coffee fix. Coffee costs the grand sum of 1 euro, and I'm always a bit embarassed to spend so little, so occasionally I stop by before class for a traditional breakfast of coffee and cornetto (croissant, not icecream, Aussies - that comes later) for which I pay un sacco - 2 euro! It certainly is possible for visitors to live relatively cheaply day-to-day here. 

Like every business in the centro storico, the school is in a very grand old building and faces on to the Arno, and the view is pretty stunning from my classroom window. 

I have found the classes a challenge (una sfida) because, while I can understand what is said and what I read, when I open my mouth all my efforts come to nought. There is a mismatch between what my brain decides I should say and the message it sends to my mouth. Because classes involve a lot of talking, it can be really frustrating. The teacher, Renata, is, as they say, molto simpatico e pazienza and I am certainly learning a lot. A part of my poor confused brain is telling me to drop down a level, which would be much easier, but I am sure still a challenge, but I am too proud (orgoglioso)! I will soldier on!

Although I occasionally go for a wander after class, my preference has been to return to my apartment for una pisolina (a nap) then do homework before either cooking a meal and then taking a stroll to the Passera for a gelato (1 euro!) or going out for an aperitivo. The area I am in is very lively, although with a lot of stranieri (foreigners, particularly students) it is hard to get in any language practice. That has been the biggest sfida - summoning up the courage to inflict my 'brutto' Italian on some poor unsuspecting Florentine, although ' in realta' they are mostly delighted that I am trying to learn their language. The rather sullen young woman in the mobile phone shop who served me last week, today was transformed when I told her I was studying and we engaged in an extended chiacchierarata (chat) about the diffiuclties of learning new languages. As I'll enlarge upon in a later blog, I don't envy the Florentines having to cope with the mass of humanity that descends on the bella citta, with their maleducato ways and their expectation that everyone should be able to speak THEIR language.

It is una sfida for tutti!

*My teacher Francesca has insisted that I should write at least some of my blog in Italian, after all, I'm here to learn Italian, right? Apologies to those who don't speak Italian, but you can try Google Translate  - right Francsca? (Joking - Francesca hates Google Translate)

Acclimazione

Unlike Miss Bartlett, I was quite aware that my apartment in Florence would not have a view, a fact which the owner had emphasised in her AirBnB listing. It is, however, huge, with two bedrooms and bathrooms - perfect for the guests I am expecting during my sojourn. It has some of the problems of an old European apartment facing onto a light well - the echoing sounds from nearby apartments (Babies and bowel movements included), pigeon poop on the window sills, but all in all it fits the bill.

On September 7th I start a four week Italian intensive course - my attempt to immerse myself and implant "nel mio cervello" the language I've been learning for the last year, and hope to become much more fluent in over the next seven weeks. 

Before that starts, I have been doing the tourist thing with my daughter Hayley, with whom I travelled from London last Saturday. While we have been doing what tourists do in Florence: eating gelato and pasta, drinking red wine and beer and visiting some of the iconic sights, we have also made a concerted effort to stray off the beaten path and just wander, taking in the city that will be my home for 5 weeks. 

We have literally walked kilometres every day to take in Florence's nooks and crannies. We walked to Fiesole, the hillside town overlooking Florence : a place of retreat today as it was 700 years ago when the young Florentines in Boccacio's Decameron fled there to escape the plague. Google maps estimated a walk of 7.5km in 1hr 50, it was probably closer to 10km and 3 hours with detours (both intended and not) The pretty town and magnificent villas were worth the walk, but we caught the bus back. 

We've trekked up to the Piazzale Michelangelo in the early morning several times, and had the advantage of the famous and spectacular view without the accompanying crowds and touts.

The thing I'm loving about Florence is that despite the multitudes of tour groups following leaders waving flags or umbrellas, it's really easy to escape: down an alley, to a little square like Piazza della Passera (a reference apparently to its early incarnation as a red light district according to the friendly local who joined us on a bench as we ate our nightly gelato), or to a laneway running beside the old city walls where you can feel as if you are in rural Tuscany. 

The Boboli gardens behind the de Medicis' Palazzo Pitti are huge and full of hidden spaces and shady nooks and crannies which are a great relief after a succession of high 30s days. If you feel like lashing out, the Sesto restaurant and bar is a schmick place to watch the sun go down and have over-priced cocktails and aperitivi (or you can slip down any laneway and get a class of wine and delicious aperitivi for 6 euros!)

We've also left town for a weekend, heading out to the hills of the Chianti region for a couple of days in a beautiful villa and some great food and relaxation.

Tomorrow the 'work' begins. I will be meeting with una insegnante for a test of my Italian to decide what level I will be studying at. My teacher Francesca has warned me that the levels in Italy are much stricter and harder to move through than our friendly school in Carlton. After a year of lessons in Australia, I will just be happy not to be in the beginners.