Taking an American teen to Italy

Dream #1: Take Leo to Italy.

Dream #2: Write about taking Leo to Italy.

And I'm thrilled to say I've now done both, and the writing is no longer just on this blog but on CNN's site, under CNN Travel where I'm working as a contract editor.

Here's the link:

https://www.cnn.com/2026/10/16/travel/mission-mom-son-love-italy-compromises

I had to leave out the moment where he might have lied to a nun in a church -- in Italian -- but the rest is all there. (It's not clear if she was a nun but it is clear he said he was "nove" years old when really he was "dieci.")

Note, the story was chosen to go out just to subscribers.

I am not a born saleswoman -- I typically don't want to obligate someone to spend money on my behalf, if I can help it, and so it's not natural to ask you to sign up for CNN's subscription.

But the people who decided news on the web should be free weren't in the news business so it wasn't their decision to make.

News sites need paid subscribers because the stories cost something to produce. I try to do my part: in addition to 7-day-a-week home delivery of The New York Times, I have a digital subscription to the Boston Globe and I also subscribe to The New Yorker, the Smithsonian, National Geographic and Connecticut magazine (and I have a personal subscription account to CNN, even though I get it for free at work).

I'd love it if you could read about our adventures in Italy, including the time Leo met Dante (the dog)!

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Best piazza in Florence?

My (other) sister is in Florence this week and as I was mulling over where she might go, I thought to say that Piazza della Repubblica (top photo) is my favorite piazza in Dante's old city.

How many times did I walk through it, late at night, as I headed home from the pub?

(There's only one pub in Florence). 

It's where Floriano, Giovanni and I saw the movie "Big Night" and where the big bookstore is. Home to the "big four" old-school caffes, including Caffe Paszkowski, which is my favorite but you won't go wrong at any of them (supremely elegant inside, phenomenal people-watching outside) and afterwards, you have some of the best shopping in Florence right across the way (or a half block away).

And if you time it right, you'll see the weekly flower market, which is held under the porticos on the side of the piazza away from the Duomo (see a cool photo of the market here).

There's also a carousel there now, but that's new.

Of course, as soon as I call it the best piazza in Florence, I remember how much I love Piazza della Signoria (called Florence's living room), which is home to one of the most iconic buildings in the city (see the photo below) and also the Rivoire, another old-school caffe that shouldn't be missed. 

Having said that, how could I forget the millions of hours I've spent in Piazza Santo Spirito (home to my favorite restaurant in Florence and my father's favorite church, plus the pensione where Daddy stayed when he came to visit me en route from Russia -- cue the James Bond theme song now).

Maybe I'm just trying to suggest that every visitor to Florence spend time in the piazzas? All of these piazzas, plus:

Piazza Santissima Annunziata

Piazza dei Ciompi

Piazza Beccaria

Piazza del Carmine

As it happens, I love piazzas so much that I wrote about them for CNN Travel.

Three cheers to any American city breaking ground on a true piazza today. If done right, it's an instant gathering spot.

Buonviaggio!

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Top photos from 20 years of blogging

Leo in Rome, 2018 (Piazza Bucarest)

I love this photo so much because it's the honest result of introducing a curious boy to the Eternal City. 

Leo was 5 years old when we snapped this photo, and excited to visit Italy (actually, really just excited to do anything except go to bed).

It's one of many photos taken in Italy that make me swoon. 

Here's a selection of photos posted previously on the blog that I love, and which best express the joy Italy has injected into my life -- which I guess, come to think of it, is the theme of this blog. The pure beauty of this country I happened upon during a study abroad program, chosen all because a week before I began college, I saw a movie that convinced me to study Italian or bust.

I'm reposting these photos to celebrate 20 years of writing this blog. Note, some were taken in Italy, some just reflect the life of Ciambellina, the person. Might need another post just for photos of actual ciambelle/ciambelline (hold that thought).

In the past two decades, I've had the thrill of visiting Torino (under the radar for many American travelers even though it's a fantastic city with a coffee culture all its own and a mountainous locale that's just stunning), various places in Puglia (including Trani), and of course Rome, Milan and Florence (and Siena and Pistoia and Pisa and Le Cinque Terre and San Marco dei Cavoti and Lucca and Bologna and and Focene and Matera and Venice and ... ). 

Torino, a city of grand piazzas

I've also chronicled Ciambellina's transition from aimless, vagabond journalist to besotted mother whose favorite subject (via photos or writing) is Leonardo.

He was an adorable little boy -- no thanks to me since I wasn't this cute as a child -- and now he's a teen with a gorgeous smile and rather strong opinions (Milan is the best city in Italy, don't challenge him!).

The most adorable Leonardo ever (Atlanta)

When you eat calamari fritti for the first time

My favorite place in Milan

The photo I always take when visiting Florence

To be sure, this is a make-shift photo gallery that includes my favorite moments during my travels to Italy and also my favorite moments from this lifelong project of remaining fluent in Italian and immersed in everything that Italy's one-of-a-kind culture has to offer. Buona lettura!

Monte Sant'Angelo, Puglia -- road-side pranzo!

 a

A gem of an appetizer in Puglia

Weekly flower market, Piazza della Repubblica, Firenze

The photos of Italy are more enchanting but of course the little Italian touches we've brought stateside feel pretty cozy. Our not-so-little shrine to the place we met.

Buon Natale Christmas decoration (in Atlanta)

Buon Natale sign with my little tesoro! (Leo's 1st Christmas)

Little souvenirs for little Italophiles

What I saw during those 24 hours in Rome

At Bennington, thinking of Leo

Priests crossing a piazza in Trani (2006)

Thank you for reading my blog. Thank you for caring about the ways I've incorporated Italy into my life. And if I know you in person, thank you for caring about Leo. That's the most important thing you could for for me. I love Italy, no question, but nothing is bigger than my love for Leonardo.

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What I bought at ll Libraccio (Firenze)

There are many fine bookstores in Florence but Il Libraccio is particularly helpful when you're looking for hard-to-find and possibly out-of-print books.

I found a book I needed and had been searching for when I visited the Florentine branch of Il Libraccio during our vacation last year:

Lettera da Francoforte

("Letter from Frankfurt")

It's by "my author" -- Edith Bruck, and the plot is as follows: A Holocaust survivor becomes embroiled in an odd correspondence with an official at the German organization that disburses relief/compensation funds to survivors. How it ends is stunning.

Since I began translating Andremo in città (in English: This Darkness Will Never End), I've been trying to read all of Edith's work but it's not easy for two reasons:

-There aren't many American booksellers that stock a lot of Italian titles (there aren't even many that stock SOME Italian titles; two notable exceptions are Rizzoli in New York City and I AM Books in Boston) (And as for Amazon, sometimes the Italian books on offer there are very expensive).

-Some of Edith Bruck's work is out of print.

When I was visiting Il Libraccio, I also bought:

Vita immaginaria by Natalia Ginzburg

(I probably buy a book by Ginzburg every trip -- I'm always reading and re-reading her work)

Il Libraccio also has branches in Milan, Ferrara, Pisa and Rome, among other cities. The branch in Florence that I visited is at Via dei Cerretani, 16R.

Last but not least: to the owners of all of the independent bookstores out there, I'd like to say I love you. And I hope to visit as many indies as possible, in the years to come.

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The 20th anniversary of my blog!

Two decades ago, I sought a method to log the ways Italy had seduced me, and the activities I pursued so that the language of Dante would remain impressed in my mind. And that's how this blog was born. Early posts were about Italian meals Mike had made, rides in the Alfa and wines we bought.

It has evolved over time to become a public diary of my thoughts, my achievements, my passions (often involving Italy or Italian, but not always) and my commitment to fluency in the form of blogposts in Italian, among other activities (movie reviews of Italian films and of course endless ruminating about books, too!). Oh and a few mentions of the book-length translation I finally managed to publish (Did I mention it's called This Darkness Will Never End?!).

I'm going to commemorate the 20th anniversary with a series of posts. This is the first. And here I'm going to very simply revisit a few of the posts that have resonated the most with readers. I'd be thrilled if you read some of the posts, and I hope perhaps the blog inspires you to return to your own passions and hobbies with renewed vigor.

Posts I liked:

"Tiny Moments of Exquisite Beauty," or the travelogue from my 2025 visit to Italy: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2025/08/tiny-moments-of-exquisite-beauty-in.html

*Praise for the film that convinced me to study Italian and changed my life: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2024/03/an-oscar-winning-film-seen-on-whim.html

Posts readers liked:

*About my fears of how the pandemic could permanently re-shape my life: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2021/05/what-ive-feared-about-post-pandemic-life.html

*On the reasons I need to hoard (or, my letter to Marie Kondo): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2017/12/dear-marie-kondo.html

*On the reference to Angelina Jolie in Roberto Saviano's book, Gomorra (note, it's in ITALIAN): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2008/06/gomorra-angelina-jolie.html

Posts about travel and the glorious Italian language:

*The time Leo learned how to curse in Italian: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2022/08/italian-lessons.html

*What can you do with a mere 24 hours in Rome? Oh quite a bit

*When I want what I should not want (in Italy): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-boarding-doors-are-closing-jeanne.html

*How can Milan be this beautiful? https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2020/07/from-archive-italian-diary-may-2017.html

Posts about Leo:

The joys of running -- even just short distances -- with Leo: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2023/03/running-very-little-very-often.html

Leonardo from Atlanta (not Vinci): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2022/10/the-little-artist-whose-mother-is.html

A Day in the Life of this American Man at Age 10 (Esquire article re-enactment): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2023/07/a-day-in-life-of-this-american-man-at.html

Posts about books:

My all-time favorite books, essays and short stories: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2024/07/literature-ive-loved-after-nyt-list.html

A book list for those looking to read the work of women Holocaust survivors: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2024/01/women-holocaust-survivors-reading-list.html

My book log for the year I read Le otto montagne by Paolo Cognetti and many other outstanding works: https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2022/12/what-i-read-in-2022-what-i-plan-to-read.html

Women authors have often been overlooked in Italy (in ITALIAN): https://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2017/06/dove-sono-finite-le-scrittrici-italiane.html

*

Thanks as always for reading my blog. 

The best gift anyone can give me is to care about Leo in some way. 

But the second best? Read my work.

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Memories of the House of the Dead (Luciana Nissim Momogliano)

File under: What I'm reading

I read a very short book on the train to NYC in February by a woman who was deported with Primo Levi: Luciana Nissim Momogliano. 

It’s called Ricordi della casa dei morti. ["Memories of the house of the dead"]. A very insightful book! In the most difficult situation I can imagine, she managed to survive in the same way Primo Levi did: she was able to practice her profession – medicine – just as he worked as a chemist. But she was still starving, and she still observed atrocities. She says at one point that the head doctor in her barracks had to kill two children who were born in Auschwitz. Another semi-eyewitness account of this particular element of the Holocaust but still not enough information for me [I'd like to read firsthand accounts of women who gave birth in the Nazi concentration camps. Do they exist?]

The book clarifies something I should have already understood: many Holocaust victims were gassed – thrown into the camera a gas – and then cremated. 

She also says when they received rations, the question was always: 'Do I keep some until tomorrow?' But she said any decision she made felt wrong -- because she was still starving.

She also was able to transfer to another concentration camp later in 1944 and that likely saved her as well. Her friend, Vanda Maestro, whom Primo Levi also wrote about, died after Luciana left for the other camp. 

I'm happy to say this is one more book from the canon I'm seeking to exhaust: books by women survivors of the Holocaust. Because women's experiences of the Shoah were different. It's something I first grasped when I read Edith Bruck's Andremo in città, and that revelation convinced me to translate the work (which, as you know, is called This Darkness Will Never End in my English translation). My life really changed once I met Edith Bruck!

Sidenote: I bought this book directly from Giuntina last summer during my visit to Florence. I had written to the editorial staff to say there were books of theirs that I couldn’t easily find so was there a bookshop onsite? There isn't but they said they would sell me the books directly so I went and happily spent more than I should have.

The author mentions that period of follia between July 1943 and September 1943 when Fascism appeared to be overthrown, only to have the Germans essentially invade Italy and re-impose Fascist rule. What a moment that must have been -- sheer joy followed by sheer terror and the anguish that descends when you realize the specter you thought you'd escape looms anew.

Nothing original to say but here I am: I'll simply have to read about World War II for the rest of my life. I'll never fully understand what our grandparents and parents lived through -- and none of mine were in combat! None of mine were Jewish, none of mine were deported or sent to a prisoner of war camp. And yet still: They lived through a period of immense sacrifice and tension, where the fate of the world hung in the balance. So I'm simply going to try to know as much about it as I can because its impact and scope shaped the world we're living in today.

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The Four Seasons Hotel in Florence

The boy whose Fiorentina soccer team shirt reads 'Nato Perfetto' ("born perfect") gets around. 

This is a photo of Leo, aged 5, in the park surrounding the absolutely stunning Four Seasons Hotel in Florence, close to Piazza D'Azeglio and not too far from the Accademia (home of the David statue).

Somehow this fancy-schmancy hotel has an exquisite private park to its name, but there's a coffee bar there so you can show up at the hotel and simply say you're visiting the cafe to gain entrance to this amazing park, which, as you can see, is adorned with sculpture.

(No one can be denied a coffee in Italy!)

We were staying with my old roommate whose current apartment is nearby so we were game to go.

Yet since the park was so beautiful and the hotel clearly for high rollers, the day that Leo and I arrived, I hesitated. Could it really be that simple? So when I asked a hotel employee if we could enter, the born-and-bred Florentine took one look at Leo's shirt, which featured the symbol and color of Florence's beloved soccer team, and he said, "Con quella maglietta lui può andare dove vuole." In that shirt, he can go wherever he wants!

It's absolutely worth a detour if you're visiting Florence -- Italy is full of hidden treasures, often in courtyards and concealed behind high stone walls. It's nice that this one is sort of within reach.

I was reminded of this hotel recently because one of my sisters will be visiting Florence in the Fall for a wedding so I looked up the rates.

Well, she is a bit of a high roller but the cost is King-of-England-level high rolling so she might just have to pass on this one! 

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Giardino Bardini in Florence is delightful

You can thank my friend, Laurie, that this photo I took in one of the most beautiful places in Florence has finally made it onto the blog.

It's the Giardino Bardini on the other side of the Arno, a garden that's connected to the Boboli Gardens but which just might be superior (especially if you enjoy terraced gardens).

(Oh and it's a terraced garden that overlooks the city of Florence. Not too shabby!)

I visited it for the first time during a vacation long after I'd left Florence. In fact, I'm not sure it was open to the public when I was an ex-pat.

Everyone is going to Italy, it would seem, and friends and family are asking for recommendations. In the process of assembling ideas to share, I've discovered that many of the places I love most are not represented on the blog. I think it's because I treat the blog in somewhat the same way I treat stories I'm editing: they should be well-written and complete. (Although, yes, there are blogposts, especially from the early years, that were written off the cuff and don't hold up too well).

But I digress. The Bardini Gardens: yet another treasure on the Oltrarno side of Florence. Palazzo Pitti, Forte Belvedere, Santo Spirito, the Boboli Gardens, Piazzale Michelangelo and this terraced marvel. When I lived in Florence, I would often take walks through the Oltrarno, in part because I lived for about a year in an apartment on Via dei Serragli, one of the main roads in that part of the city.

When you venture over to that part of the city, you are physically close to the chaos of the centro storico but spiritually very far. And these gardens are packed with tiny little paths that are so gorgeous, you may feel a heart attack of happiness coming on. How could a place so beautiful exist outside of heaven? (Simple: it's Italy.)

There's a nice gift shop here, too. I don't recall touring the actual villa on the property and I'm not sure you can. What I am sure of: this is a beautiful place to spend an afternoon.

Last but not least, I believe there is a combination ticket that gives you access to both the Boboli Gardens and this property but it would be hard to do both in one morning or afternoon (I think we spent most of our visit at Bardini and then dashed through Boboli exhausted and haphazardly). If you had the time, I suppose you could visit one in the morning, break for lunch and then return to the other in the afternoon (and if you did, I would of course recommend Trattoria Casalinga off of Piazza Santo Spirito for lunch, although there are several other old-school trattorias in the Oltrarno that would be worth your time).

So, Laurie, and other friends, please enjoy this post and hopefully you'll also enjoy this gorgeous Florentine garden!

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I eloped "with" Italy 30 years ago

How odd to conclude that among the loves of your life is an entire country, in addition to the real loved ones, like Leo.

I am, of course, talking about Italy, a country that for me is nothing less than a shaman, no safer than those Sirens who ensnared Odysseus, and more akin to a being that enthralls (enchants/bewitches) me than a landmass. Also: a twin who lives mainly in my mind but who nonetheless follows me wherever I go.

And it's been following me for a long time: 30 years ago this year, I left America to live in Italy.

Dates. Anniversaries. Milestones. The accumulation of years. I dwell on these notions a lot. But because I've been busy promoting This Darkness Will Never End, my first book-length translation, I haven't had a chance to reflect much on the fact that three decades ago this year, I left for Italy. 

Thus began my expat life -- the years, for better or for worse, against which all the subsequent years would be judged.

Thirty years ago, I eloped to -- and with -- Italy. And 'eloped' is the right word because the transaction lacked the solid planning of a wedding. I escaped with my paramour and let all the naysayers (who wisely said, 'You don't have a job...') be damned. All I knew was that, following my graduation from Wesleyan, I'd secured through a friend a summer "job" as a tutor to a bunch of rich Romans whose children attended an American school in Rome. And then I would go on to Pisa where I would be the guest of a doctor whose cousin worked in my department at Wesleyan.

After that, who knew? Not I, but I didn't care. I only knew one thing: my days of living in one language were over. Once I'd tasted bilingual life, it was the only one for me. As I mentioned in a previous post, once you've heard and understood Italians speaking their native language, I don't think you can go back to the English-only world. I couldn't. 

Before the year was out, I migrated to Florence, a city I'd circled warily. It's hard to believe this, but I was on Team Siena back then. I'd spent a semester in Siena as a student and found Florence dirty and chaotic whenever I visited.

But one Sunday, the doctor who was hosting me in Pisa had to work all day at her hospital in Florence and she invited me to come along. The city enchanted me! Perhaps because she dropped me off somewhere other than the dodgy train station or due to the quiet hum of a weekend but I can remember crossing one of the bridges that span the Arno and succumbing to the magic of Florence.

Lasciate ogne speranza: for me, at that point, I could abandon all "speranza" -- hope -- of ever falling out of love with Florence or Italy. Like the author of those famous words, I would spend the rest of my life thinking about enchanting, beguiling, occasionally wicked Florence.

As I've said before, if my life were a novel, I might call my departure for Italy the “inciting incident.” It followed that semester abroad where I'd resolved to truly immerse myself in the culture, and being fluent in Italian became an obsession—a lonely one, since I often forced myself to forfeit outings with other Americans so I could instead practice Italian. 

What's ironic: I’d struggled to learn the language in my freshman year of college, but once in Italy, nothing short of fluency would satisfy me. In an essay I wrote for The Millions, I noted that one of the first words I learned on the ground in Italy was the verb scherzare. "It means 'to joke' and is indispensable for following almost any conversation with Italians. During a trip I took to Sicily, a Palermo policeman warned me about strange men near the station by yanking on the skin below his eye with his finger, and uttering a single word, occhio, which simply means 'eye.' I was hooked," I wrote. Mastering Italian became a pursuit not unlike bedding men or getting drunk.

I had very little money when I lived in Italy, and no real career to speak of. In fact, when I returned to the States, I was at loose ends (since I hadn't been building a professional foundation, or so I thought). I can recall visiting the beach with my sister, who uttered an immortal line about my lack of a real job when I lived in Italy, which caused a bit of a stir between us at the time.

She wasn't wrong. But she may not have realized what Dad had intuited. Knowing not only that he was a world traveler but also that his library included books by many authors who made the most of their ex-pat years, I believe my father sent me off to Italy so that I could truly live, so that I could collect the kinds of experiences that fiction and other writing spring from.

Of course him being him (a contrarian), he had an unforgettable comment when I decided to return home from Italy: "It's all downhill from here." I was 25!

It took me many years to get over leaving Italy. Perhaps because I moved from a medieval tower in the center of Florence to an apartment in a car-infested Atlanta suburb. I can recall crying in the car in Atlanta whenever we listened to Italian music (and forget watching Italian movies -- total sob fest).

Eventually I forced myself to develop interests in other countries, such as Mexico, which we visited quite a few times. I even allowed myself to study Spanish, although it felt as though I were betraying my true love, Italian.

And then when I'd finally moved on, I allowed myself after many years to return to Italy, only to discover that I still wanted what I shouldn't want: to live in two places and two languages, which is to say, live in Italy and the US. The compromise? I live in two languages by translating Italian literature.

The experience of living in Italy was so rich, it's as though everything that came after paled. Luckily, I became a mother and that feeling dissipated because the experience of being a mother is much more powerful than adoring a culture or way of life.

But the experience of living there continues to shape my life today (and the mementos that have proliferated throughout my house. It dominates what I read, and it spurred me to translate, and it influences where I choose to vacation (and my dreams for retirement, which I recently concluded should begin with a year's wandering through Italy).

I continue to marvel over Italians and the Italian way of life. At one point during our travels last summer, I developed an obsession with the Roma-Viterbo train line, which is separate from Trenitalia. As I wrote here, it's not entirely odd: our apartment in Rome overlooked one of the stations on the line. And when I am in Italy, I am immersed in "my beat," which I define as the ordinary aspects of Italian life, the parts of Italian life that an average Italian contends with. I found it reminded me of the PATH trains that link lower Manhattan to New Jersey inasmuch as it's both local and separate. They are like an alt subway line, which is slightly odd. If you were a traveler to NYC, you could mistake them for the actual subway system, no?

And I continue to silently beg Italians to keep being Italian (especially as I note developments such as a Starbucks coffee location on Via del Corso in Florence. Ma dai! Non ci voleva).

So my dear Italy, I'm very happy we eloped all those years ago! I'll remain true to you until my dying day.

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My favorite photo of Florence?

I took this photo one morning over the summer as I walked the streets of "my city." Firenze. Florence. The City of Dante. Also: The city of Jeanne. I'd finally made it across the river to revisit my old neighborhood and check on Piazza Santo Spirito, my old stomping grounds.

The morning that I took this photo, I'd stopped at Caffe Ricchi by Santo Spirito for a cappuccino and as I wrote in an earlier post about the trip, when I asked the barman there about a sign listing soy milk cappuccino, he said it tastes like cardboard ("Sa di cartone."). Old-school Italy remaining old-school Italy -- yay. The piazza was largely empty, I guess because it was all of 7:30 a.m. but how delightful.

On the way home to our apartment, I passed a throwback record store and peering into the window, I saw a Beatles album whose cover read in Italian, "Aiuto." Aiuto = Help. That's the famous “Help” album – translated for the Italian edition. LOVE IT!

Anyway, this might be my favorite photo of Florence from this trip. It remains such a beautiful city -- especially if you're able to step away from the areas that are heavily populated with tourists.

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Tiny moments of exquisite beauty in Italy

The apartment in Florence where we stayed this month during our trip to Italy had a top-floor terrace that stares directly at the Torre di Arnolfo, which defines the Palazzo Vecchio and is arguably the symbol of Florence. In the early morning hours as Leo and Mike (and the rest of the city) slept, I had my coffee while staring back at it. One morning, the silence surrounding me was so profound that the flapping of a bird's wing overhead was singularly audible. 

(Fun fact: the apartment is on the top floor -- 75 steps up!)

Each trip contains certain touchstones -- I revisit my old apartments, I retrace my steps along treasured walking routes, I prowl beloved bookstores and newsstands for all of the written material that I feel as though I need to live. I observe the small moments of exquisite beauty, something I believe my mother would have done (a habit she almost certainly instilled in me by modeling it).  

But each trip is also different, and engenders a specific set of preoccupations. 

At one point during our travels, I developed an obsession with the Roma-Viterbo train line, which is separate from Trenitalia. It's not entirely odd: our apartment in Rome overlooked one of the stations on the line. And when I am in Italy, I am immersed in "my beat," which I define as the ordinary aspects of Italian life, the parts of Italian life that an average Italian contends with. 

It reminded me of the PATH trains that link lower Manhattan to New Jersey inasmuch as it's both local and separate. They are like an alt subway line, which is slightly odd. If you were a traveler to NYC, you could mistake them for the actual subway system, no?  

When I poked my head inside the station I could see from the window, it was as old-school as it comes. The tracks were visible from the entranceway (the long train tunnel simply deadends into the lobby of the station) and on them sat old tram-like trains. There was a bustling coffee bar attached, of course, and I had my breakfast there one day, knowing that while it appeared scruffy, the volume of customers and the people who frequented it (real Italians) guaranteed a fine cappuccino and a light, fluffy ciambellina. Yet still, I am both irked by this random, standalone train line and also by my obsession with it!

More from the Rome Journal: You can buy calendars where each month is a photo of a young Italian priest. Yes, I, too, am wondering how on Earth I left Rome without one of those calendars! I mean, dai, per l'amor di Dio ... you cannot top that. I tried to explain it to Leo by saying it was driven by the dearth of vocations and that the notion of a slew of new young priests would give older Catholics such joy....

There’s an article in the current L’Espresso that is so funny: Italian politicians who years after they’ve left office continue to enjoy la scorta (police escort/secret service-level protection), which is to say they still jump the line (in traffic, at the airport, etc) when it’s convenient. The article cites a two-century-old line of poetry:

Io so’ io

E voi non siete un cazzo

Not a poem I've ever read. (From Wikipedia: La celebre frase che il Marchese rivolge a un gruppo di popolani («Mi dispiace, ma io so' io e voi non siete un cazzo!») è ripresa dal sonetto Li soprani der Monno vecchio di Giuseppe Gioachino Belli, che comincia così: «C'era una vorta un Re cche ddar palazzo / mannò ffora a li popoli st'editto: / "Io sò io, e vvoi nun zete un cazzo"».)

ENGLISH SUMMARY: The gist of the line of poetry, spoken by a nobleman to commoners, is roughly: I'm important (or I'm someone) and you're a nobody (said more colorfully in the Italian: 'You're not jack squat,' or, 'You're a fuckin' nobody.')

I was walking through Piazza della Signoria one evening only to find a concert in the loggia behind the Uffizi – a gorgeous soprano and a small ensemble. Leo didn’t want to linger but luckily the singer’s voice lingered, following me out of the piazza (I walked extra slow).

New 'addresses' emerge on each trip, often connected with coffee bars or bakeries that serve good ciambelle/ciambelline (who would care? Yes, yes I know. There's a reason few people read this blog!). I stopped at Caffe Le Logge by the post office one morning for a cappuccino. I was out on my morning walk and needed to refuel before venturing across the river. When I returned later to buy some pastries (which were quite good), the barman said, "Ri-buongiorno." I believe that's the first time I've ever had someone say that to me. Good morning -- again. (Not that you would care if you weren't obsessed with Italian and why should you be?!)

And while we're on the topic ... The trip was especially fruitful in one delicious way: I ate some of the best ciambelle I've ever had (none would qualify as a ciambellina, where -ina indicates little). Soft, doughy, enormous, and of course covered in sugar.

How Italy Ruined My Life (sort of -- for The Millions)

The way Italian plunges me into an intoxication of sound and thought is something I've wanted to write about for a long time.

The way the Italian language is like a person in my life, "a twin who accompanies me everywhere -- for better or for worse," the way knowing a foreign tongue "confers a special passport" or how my attempts to convince Florentines I had mastered their language -- la lingua di Dante -- devolved into nothing short of high school hazing ... yes I've wanted to explore this topic for so long.

And now I have! Thanks to my editor, Sophia, at The Millions.

You can read the essay here:

https://themillions.com/2023/11/the-quiet-exhilaration-of-reading-in-italian.html

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Guide for your trip to Florence -- buonviaggio!

When my aunt and uncle embarked on a trip to Florence last year (after an absence of 40 years!), I realized I'd skimped on travel tips here on Ciambellina or in some cases not organized the posts with tips well so I am going to try to unite everything here in one post. Everything you -- my friend, my Ciambellina reader, my cousin, my uncle -- need to know in order to have a special trip to Florence, Italy (where I still live in my heart). You can thank Aunt Maureen and Uncle Pat!

Before I get to specific tips and itineraries, let me mount my linguistic soap box: learn some Italian before you go. 

Not to be nice or cosmopolitan, and not to improve the American image abroad (magari!). 

But rather because: speaking Italian with an Italian is one of life's special pleasures.

The other major bits of advice:

*Walk as much as possible

*Visit the main produce markets

*Have a ciambella (and bring a few back for me).

OK, sermon over.

Where to go

Assuming you will tick off the major sites listed in your guide book or online (the Duomo, the Uffizi, l'Accademia, San Marco, Cappella Brancacci, etc.), I will move onto advice about other attractions in Florence.

One of the main recommendations I want to make is: Visit the Villa and Giardino Bardini. Most people visit Boboli Gardens, which is quite lovely but I think the Bardini is even better. The gardens are gorgeous [terraced in some parts] and the views stunning. When I was in Florence last summer, our ticket somehow got us entry to both, though I don't know how you would visit both in one day and see everything. 

(Note, they are both on the other side of the river).

Also on the other side of the river: Forte Belvedere and Piazzale Michelangelo. I recommend walking to both, but have your walking shoes handy. Both sights are gorgeous, with views equally as gorgeous. There's likely some important historical note someone else could tell you about.

There are also specific corners of the city that I love. I'll start with piazzas: 

Piazzas I love (to walk through, to stroll through, to gaze at, to sit in)

Piazza Santo Spirito (there's often a market on in this square)

Piazza del Carmine

Piazza dei Ciompi

Piazza della Repubblica (now with a carousel)

Piazza della Signoria

Quirky neighborhoods

Piazza Torquato Tasso: Real people live in this neighborhood! Locals gather to play soccer in the park at the center of the piazza and you could go over to Al Tranvai if you wanted authentic but decidedly unfussy Florentine food.

Piazza Santo Spirito: Still where you might find artisan workshops, real Florentines and flourishes of the everyday dolce vita, though to be honest, overtourism is swallowing up these things, even here.

Santa Croce (or one quirky aspect of the neighborhood): the area across from the piazza and the church was originally settled by Etruscans and it's one of the few places in the city where roads curve. There are some tiny, hidden piazzas and viuzze here that are fun to discover.

Speaking of which...

Where to eat

I mentioned Trattoria Cammillo (Borgo San Iacopo, #57R) in a previous post about restaurants in Florence because it's a place that I like (and Beyonce also liked it!).

Cibreo is also good -- there are actually multiple Cibreo storefronts in the same basic area, depending on your budget (Via Andrea del Verrocchio #8R). 

Note, a lot of the places I like are on the other side of the river and two are in Piazza Santo Spirito: Trattoria Casalinga and Borgo Antico. The piazza is also quite lovely and the church was my father's favorite (designed by Brunelleschi).

I also love Ristorante Caffe Italiano on my old street, Via della Vigna Vecchia.

Where to eat and shop for dinner

I really like going to the public produce markets in Florence and the two main ones in centro are the Mercato di San Lorenzo (by the station; it is the best-known) and the Mercato Sant'Ambrogio; this last one is where I did my shopping when I was an ex-pat. It is east of Santa Croce -- and has fantastic cheese, sliced meats, veggies, etc. 

The San Lorenzo produce market -- the main market -- is now a wonderful place to dine and shop. You have to wade through the outdoor flea market surrounding the market to reach it but it's worth it.

Not just where to eat but what

People rave about pasta but here's a secret: Italian sandwiches are divine. Note: in the Old Country, they are nothing like a sub or a hero. Freshly made and reflective of all the Italian culinary acumen we've come to expect in pasta dishes, the Italian sandwich you can buy at a bar is something not to miss. Antico Noe is one of the best places for sandwiches, and not only because it is literally tucked inside a medieval arch a half-mile from Piazza Santa Croce (with a view of a medieval tower I once lived atop, but that's neither here nor there).

Other highlights:

Crostini -- as an appetizer. In the event these are new to you: little toasted slices of bread with toppings, including chicken pate, freshly-chopped tomatoes, mushrooms, etc.

Prosciutto crudo -- I believe it's part of Italy's culinary patrimony and I am not joking. Salty, silky, delicious. I don't care if you're a vegetarian -- my Italian friends certainly didn't when I pretended to be one in college and they kept urging me to eat prosciutto! (Ma dai!)

Cinghiale -- Wild boar. It's used often as the main ingredient of an amazing pasta dish that I suggest you order: pappardelle al cinghiale. It's available everywhere!

Porcini mushrooms -- if they are in season

Fiori di zucca (zucchini flowers) -- fried or stuff

Italian pastries -- Forget gelato. The real treats in Italy are pastries. Look for bars that say 'produzione propria' (that means they make their own pastries) or head to a pasticceria.

(Also grab a chocolate bar at the supermercato/alimentari if it has whole nocciole in it -- the big nut at the center of the baci candies. Why have one nocciola when you can have an entire chocolate bar full of them?)

Where to walk...

In addition to "everywhere," I also recommend walking to the other side of the river -- often. From there, as I've mentioned, you can walk to Forte Belvedere, Piazzale Michelangelo and the Bardini gardens.

Indeed some of the nicest walks are in the area around San Niccolò (the other side of the river) because they allow you to get outside the walls of the city and go up into the hills. One place you could try walking to is Forte Belvedere.

Where to have a coffee and step onto a page of A Room With A View:

There are old-school caffes that make your morning coffee feel royal and four of them are on Piazza della Repubblica, of which Caffe Gilli is probably the best (coffee/pastries/aperitivo etc); also the Rivoire on Piazza della Signoria will make you feel as though you're a wealthy landowner.

Where to drink wine

Everywhere! That's one of the things that makes Italian coffee bars special -- you can order a caffe latte in the morning and un bicchiere di vino rosso in the evening!

But I will give one recommendation of a place to drink: Rose's on Via del Parione; it's on one of the more beautiful streets in the center city. Drink outside at one of the tiny tables where you can watch fancy Florentines walk and bike by.

Look for a place called 'enoteca' to sample some good wine. I also love the hole-in-the wall (literally) kiosks where you stand on the street at a counter and order a glass of wine and maybe a sandwich.

Pastries

You'll find an entry for gelato below but as I mentioned, I think paste or pasticcini [pastries] are the unsung sweets of Italian cities (unsung, I should say, by Americans. Italians know). And really, by now, you should know my favorite: la ciambella or ciambellina (looks like a donut if a donut was baked in God's kitchen). Also good: un bombolone (similar but without the hole and typically filled with crema). 

Gelato

Vivoli (Via Isola delle Stinche) around the corner from our old apartment is very popular and also very good but so is Festival del Gelato right off of Piazza della Repubblica (down the block from the Duomo). Also good (and popular): Gelateria Carraia and Gelateria Santa Trinita (both are stationed on the other side of two consecutive bridges across the River, Oltrarno side).

Souvenirs

I still buy souvenirs and so should you! I favor paper goods because reading in Italian is my passion (and paper was an ancient Florentine art) so my suitcase is always loaded down with novels and magazines but the category also includes notepads, calendars and the like, which would appeal to anyone.

I find some of the best souvenirs can be had at the big bookstore on Piazza della Repubblica: Libreria Feltrinelli (there are also lots of kiosks right in front of the bookstore that may have something you like). In addition, I highly recommending visiting the Bialetti store for the classic Italian Moka coffee pot (and coffee cups and other accessories).

Lastly, I know some of you out there are real foodies so I recommend checking out a website published by a local Florentine food writer who knows her stuff (and has Catholic interests -- hugely into sushi, etc.):

https://www.ioamofirenze.it/

She recently published a guide on her blog to choosing a restaurant in Florence:

https://www.ioamofirenze.it/mi-consigli-un-ristorante/

Note, it's in Italian but all the addresses you see everywhere (on maps, for hotels, etc) are in Italian anyway and the names of restaurants are in Italian on the sides of buildings so if you really want to go somewhere, you'll figure it out. I suggest choosing something from her guide under the category 'Trattorie tipiche' ('local, traditional eateries'), with the name of the restaurant in bold at the start of each entry (then Google the name of the restaurant and figure out where it is). She also has a heading for fine dining (in English) and if you have the euros, go for it!

Buonviaggio!

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