Out of Office, Somewhere

I’m making real progress with my Italian. Not fluent, but noticeably better. In class I understood more than I missed, which feels like a small victory.

We started the morning at Caffè Il Sole, our regular spot. Two cappuccini, two croissants. I went off to my lesson at Società Dante Alighieri while Tom wandered Florence in his usual unhurried way. We met again around 1:00 and did what we tend to do here — walked without much of a plan.

We crossed into the Oltrarno and drifted past artisan workshops, antiques dealers, and small restaurants that looked promising. We noted some restaurants we’d love to come back and try. There’s something about that side of the river that feels quiet, slightly less polished and more lived-in.

Eventually we made our way into the Boboli Gardens. The scale of the place always surprises me — the long pathways, the terraces, the views opening up over the city. The enormous granite basins brought from Egypt centuries ago stopped us again. How? Why? How did they keep the water warm? How many people could fit inside? We tried to imagine the logistics of moving something that massive across the Mediterranean in the 1500s — the ambition alone is hard to fathom. How many people did it take? Once it arrived on land, how did they transport it to Florence.

But what lingered with me most were the quieter signs of the season shifting. An orange tree heavy with brilliant fruit, almost improbably bright against the winter light. A hillside just beginning to bloom, small flowers pushing through — the first real suggestion that spring is on its way. It felt subtle but certain.

We climbed to the upper gardens and stayed for a while, looking out over the hills and valleys around Florence. Even after spending so much time here over the years, that view still has the ability to stop me.

By late afternoon we wandered home and later went to 4 Leoni, my favorite restaurant. I ordered the fiocchetti di pera in salsa di taleggio e pere — delicate pear-filled pasta in a creamy taleggio sauce. It’s the kind of dish you think about the next day and the next year!

Italian in the morning, Oltrarno wandering in the afternoon, early signs of spring in the gardens, and pasta in the evening. A very good day in Florence.