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The Florentine
‘Arrangiarsi or the ability to ‘arrange oneself’ is all about overcoming obstacles. Italians love to jump fences, and they do it with an agile grace that people from Anglo-cultures can ...
Watch how people share secrets and you’ll discover the things they are trying to hide. Learn how a country exchanges confidences and you’ll uncover the cornerstone of social rapport. Italians may be known to the world as free-speaking, overly expressive individuals, but in
It was only the third day of the New Year and I had already decided that I was not going to write a single word until the end of the next century. When I am struck by that particular form of self-pity known as ‘writer’s block,&
It was an eerily sunny day in December and my friend Silvia and I were weaving our way to the park with the greenhouse. Her daughter Sofia had a play-date and we were, of course, late. As we dragged the poor child by the cuff through the whizzing traffic
Today I’m waging a silent war against a blank page and an enemy expression that has yet to reveal itself. It is Saturday and, gratefully, the office is quiet. Most of the theatre troupe that makes this newspaper have all trooped home to their weekend stage-plays. The
I have just spent the entire afternoon dumping the contents of my drawers into cardboard boxes. I found them crushed on aisle seven at the Coop this morning and spent the better part of an hour trying to tape them into squares again. Now that the boxes are almost full,
During my Venetian years, I lived in a crumbling, 16th-century apartment whose best ‘room’ was the terrace on the top floor. I was up there one afternoon mopping— something I did on rare occasions for the sole purpose of keeping my neighbour lady happy. She and
Martina and I piled into an already crowded café in hopes of a corner table. Once a month we meet there to talk, sip cappuccino, and perhaps jot a line or two in our 'Be Bohemian’ notebooks. We were actually both quite busily writing, when someone at the
Giorgio Moro was admittedly very relieved to be walking me home. The night had been a terrible bore, he said. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really deny it. I had spent our entire dinner picking his brain for an Italian expression that might please me. ‘Too much to say&
It’s Tuesday—the day we put the newspaper to bed. And yes, since the entire staff has spent the last few weeks boldly courting summer, we are surprised that the paper ...
My mother says that if you really hate something, the best thing to do is spend time with it. Once enough hours have passed, it will become your friend. Spend time with your enemies and you will develop empathy for them. Spend time with your detestable list of conditional verbs
Lunch at Lola’s is a true taste of Tuscan theatre. Everyday, my colleagues and I squeeze in the door at half past twelve in efforts to beat our neighbours to the corner table. The menu is written on a paper place-mat and hung on the wall weekly,
In Italy, a best friend is known as a ‘heart friend’ and my amico del cuore is called Giorgio Moro. Although this is not top secret information, I do have some qualms about using his full name in this article. Any writer will tell you that it is
The summer I turned seven, my cousin taught me an Italian children’s chant about a king who begged his jester to tell him a tale. ‘Once upon a time there was a king who sat on his sofa and said to his servant, “Tell me a
I have a good friend who assigns animals to everyone she meets. I, on the other hand, am partial to fictitious characters. I currently work with four Italian men. In my mind’s eye, they are the Wizard, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. &
Italy’s normally salty prices get torn to shreds when sales season comes. From prezzi salati to prezzi stracciati, when prices are shredded, it’s time to go shopping. The country waits on bated breath as the stores mark down and the people line up. It was a
I think I have a rare language disease. My symptoms most often show themselves at fancy dinner parties where everyone is wearing black. Somehow, understated elegance brings out all of my quirky linguistic hang-ups. At the very first lull in conversation, I find myself proposing language games and organising
Just relax. Take a deep breath. Abandon Plan A. Leave it at the bus stop before you mount bus 14. It’s already too crowded in there. Leave Plan A at the bottom of the stairs before you brave the five flights up to your room with a view.
It starts with the usual Thursday afternoon phone call. Supposedly, there’s an urgent manuscript waiting for me at the translation studio. Can I pick it up? Stay up all night to do it? Bring it by in the morning? My boss Niccolò grovels, and I agree
