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About Florence

I’m walkin’, thinkin’, “This is my land,” like in the movie, ownin’ it, but then—bam!—some dodgy bloke tries chargin’ me extra, reckonin’ I’m a mug. I’m like, “Mate, I balance books, I ain’t daft!” Nearly lost me rag, but I laughed it off—cos it’s all a game, innit? Prossies, punters, coppers—everyone’s playin’. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but I swear one girl looked like she could run a cartel, proper boss vibes.

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So, I’m walking down Via Dante Alighieri, and I see this old guy selling arancini. I’m like, “Yes, please!” I grab one, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talking crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside. I could’ve kissed that guy. But then, I drop it! Ugh! Right on the cobblestones. I’m standing there, heartbroken, like I just lost a best friend.

Baaria: 50 Years of Village Life in Sicily