Back in the Pool

After more than three months (March 9- June 18), I went lap swimming in a stunning outdoor pool in a park near my apartment in Florence. (I did swim at my brother's pool in Florida, though it is not regulation lap distance.)  Some people may remember the photograph of this pool that I shared last September via social media. While the pool opened several weeks ago, due to my quarantine and the rainy mornings, today was my first day in the pool.  When I paid the three euros to enter for a one-hour lap swim, the gentleman working at the desk told me that last year at this time they already had 2,000 visitors; this year there were only 200 visitors to date.  He speculated that worry about Covid-19 and the unusual rainy, cool weather provided the explanation.  

The pool has strict regulations to follow.  You must complete a questionnaire to certify that you are not sick, and have not been near anyone who is sick.  (Or, conveniently, you can download an app and pay online.) You may not use the locker rooms, though the bathrooms are open.  Before entering onto the pool deck, you have to remove your shoes (I was thoughtfully given a plastic bag to store my shoes and switch to flip-flops.  No items can be placed on a lounge chair, unless you have paid the eight euros for the entire day. The chairs are all sanitized. I learned this because I mistakenly  placed my gym bag on a lounge chair, and had to instead just leave it on the ground next to the chair.  

Finally in the pool, I was elated.  For me, swimming is my salvation. My father taught me to swim, and for this I am thankful. A morning swim is meditation, a chance to clear my head and start the day with a smile. Swimming is an opportunity to stretch out, especially after too many hours of sitting.  I can return to the pool after an injury before resuming any other activity.  However, this first swim post-lockdown was a challenge. With my first few laps, I was sucking wind!  My heart was beating hard and I had to take a breath on every stroke.  Eventually, my strokes and breathing worked together into a smoother rhythm.  I was slower than usual, but still nice and steady.  Tomorrow will be better, I am certain. "Domani andra' meglio, sono certo."

At home, I showered, changed and thought about where to go for lunch. A long swim earned a hearty meal and what would be better than salad and pizza?  From my social media feed, I had seen pictures showing Ristorante Accademia with tables in Piazza San Marco.  The best pizza in the city in one of the most beautiful locations. Un buon idea!  I walked to further burn those calories, and discovered that the outdoor tables are only for dinner.  No problem! The lunch was still wonderful, and the owner, Gianni, was present.  We caught up briefly and when I left he reminded me to call him to reserve a spot for dinner.  That I will do!

Randomly, to further show my devotion to swimming, here's a photo of my most favorite pool.  You can tell this pool is in Boulder because of the view of the iconic Flatirons.

Spruce Street Pool, Boulder, Colorado

Across the Courtyard

My apartment in Florence is on the ground floor by Italian standards and the first floor by American standards.  Instead of a balcony, there is a small garden area and patio.  Outside of the living room is a cafe table and outside the bedroom are two wicker chairs and an umbrella.  There are roses, an olive tree, and bamboo that covers the back fence.  My garden faces the back of another apartment building.  There are walkways between apartments, what my mother called a "catwalk". Sometimes I see my backyard neighbors sweeping, or more commonly hanging laundry.  One woman and I wave to each other whenever we are both outside.

Last week, I saw someone new cleaning the catwalk. She's petite, young looking, with very short blond hair- almost a buzz cut. She doesn't resemble anyone else I've seen in those apartments. I saw her again the day after.  I wasn't sure if she saw me, and we didn't look at one another at the same time.  Then, two days ago, she was leaning out of a hallway window and our gaze met.  We waved and shouted an enthusiastic "Buongiorno"!  And, that was it.  (The window is on the left with a green shade.) 

Today, I was sitting outside eating lunch and reading the newspaper on my phone.  You know how you get that feeling that someone is looking at you?  Well, I glanced up from my phone, and there was the woman with the short hair leaning out of that same window and waiting for me to notice. We both smiled, waved, and shared the customary "Buongiorno!"  That moment got me thinking about how much I like that greeting. As with most Italian words, I love the way it sounds. It's widely used, both informally among friends or to complete strangers. To me, the phrase is always said with warmth, as if the person truly wishes you a good day.  The American greeting of "Hello!" does not achieve this depth.  Forget, "Hi! How are you?" which doesn't necessarily signal any interest on the part of the greeter.  Even worse, is the awful "Hey there!" which seems especially distant. 

Will I ever meet the new woman across the courtyard?  My Italian is still limited, and we would have to shout to converse.  Allora, for now, we'll stick with wishing one another a good day.
🧘‍♀️🌸

Out for Lunch

On Monday morning, 15 June, I decided that I was going out for lunch each day during the upcoming week.  I have a friend here in Florence who goes out for lunch every day.  When she first told me this, I was surprised and curious. She said she looks forward to it. This was so unlike my past day-to-day life as a teacher, where sometimes it seemed that even eating lunch was a bonus. Going out to a restaurant for lunch was reserved for the weekend or vacation.   

Now, here I am back in Florence after a three-month lockdown.  The city is void of tourists.  Many restaurants are open and have created lovely outdoor green spaces to allow for social distancing.  The weather is pleasant, in between some spring thunderstorms.  Being out for lunch has so many bonuses-- great food, no dishes, a chance to practice my Italian, people-watch, and maybe run into a friend or meet someone new.  Additionally, the price of lunch in Italy is less expensive than the price of lunch in my old hometown. 

For my first lunch out, I thought I would stroll to Piazza Signoria (near the Uffizi).  Once I started to walk, I decided to eat someplace nearby.  A few places were closed on Monday; however, as I headed to Piazza Santo Spirito, I saw that Trattoria La Casalinga was open, tables outside, and NO line.  This is a rare situation as this restaurant is always crowded and reservations are needed.  I sat at a table outside and ordered arugula salad with mounds of parmigiano shavings, followed by roast chicken and potatoes. My meal concluded with a macchiato decaffeinato.  As I was eating, my friend's boyfriend (who I just met on Saturday!) strolled by and waved.  It was all wonderful and I will certainly return. 

Then, because I was already out, I stopped at the market in the piazza to get flowers, popped into a favorite boutique and bought a new skirt and top, and selected a cantaloupe from the greengrocer.  If I had prepared a salad at home, I would have missed out on so much!

The next day, I tried the very cool restaurant Amble'.  I've walked past their courtyard before, though didn't connect the name and the place.  Lunch for me was a salad with tuna and egg, accompanied by aqua frizzante and a glass of chardonnay.  The courtyard is a great place to people watch-- a variety of people sat down to eat and also some good-looking Italian men strolled past.  Interestingly, this restaurant has a radio station!  The waiter told me that normally there are dj's, live performances, and literary readings.  He said that possibly those will return in another week.  Here's the link to the radio station-- https://www.amble.it/radio.

(I imagine you are curious about the prices. Generally, when you eat in a restaurant, there is a 2 euros table charge per person, called a "coperto".  My costs in euros--first lunch 22.50; second 15.50. It is possible to eat for much less if you order simply pasta or a panini, or much more if you order steak!)

Sunglasses

On the first Saturday after my quarantine, I had a "lunch date" with a friend. I wore the designer sunglasses that my daughter secretly placed in my backpack before I left her apartment in the US to return to my apartment in Florence.  I also wore my new Italian watch and a fresh hairstyle.  The sun was shining as I walked to Piazza Santo Spirito, and I began to understand why Italians value a good haircut and great sunglasses. I had  a bounce in my step and extra confidence; when a couple of heads turned as I walked past, my spirit was even lighter.  Is this what is meant by sprezzatura?

A couple of days after I returned to Florence,  I finally had the energy to clean out my backpack.  When I discovered the sunglasses, I sat on my bed and cried. The last few months had been such a mix of emotions. For every positive, there was a negative.  For the first month I was with a good friend at his beautiful home, but waiting for news about my mother's health.  When I could get to see my mom, she lasted only three more days, but that was followed by good times with my brothers. I navigated airports and planes during the pandemic to spend time with each of my kids, and the days with them were wonderful.  No distractions, no arguments, just lots of hiking, shopping, cooking, talking. Alone in Florence again, I missed all the company of the previous months. 

The sunglasses, however, just might be part of my daughter's plan to help in my transformation of being more "chic" here in Italy. At her apartment, she wanted me to try on some of her sunglasses and pick out a new look.  Little did I know that the pair I liked the most would take the trip with me.  I do love her attention to fashion details, and I'll do my best to pay attention, too.

 (Lunch outside at Piazza Santa Spirito with Salvatore, Kimberly's boyfriend; Kimberly, taking the photo; and me.  In true Italian style, we sat together for hours!)  

Prosechino

Today, Friday, 12 June, was my first day out of the 14 day self-quarantine required on my return to Florence and my first day out of the "lockdown" of the last three months. Admittedly, my particular situation was unusual in that during this pandemic, I flew to four states, beginning with a trans-Atlantic flight from Rome to NJ.  After a month in NJ in quarantine with a friend, I flew to Florida to be with my mother during her final days, and then to Denver and Chicago  to visit with my kids.  Traveling during a pandemic is not relaxing, so this first day of true "freedom" required celebration: a hair appointment and lunch at a neighborhood osteria.

At both Wave hair salon and Osteria da Fulvio, I am a regular customer. In both establishments, I knew I would have a warm welcome:  a smile, a heartfelt "Buongiorno" and "Com'e stai?" In the hair salon, the stylists know my name, a bit about my decision to live in Florence, and I know a little about their personal lives.  At the osteria, though, I am always addressed as "signora", but it is the complimentary Prosecco that signals recognition.

When I finished at the hair salon and we said our good-byes, I took a few photos along the Arno and walked to Osteria da Fulvio. I have eaten lunch here alone and with friends.  I hoped that when I walked in the owner would remember me, since I had been away for three months.  Once I removed my sunglasses and mask, I received a smile and another "Buongiorno"!  After a brief exchange, I was asked, "Vuoi  Prosechino?" Would I like a small Prosecco?  "Si, grazie."  From a tap behind the bar, Fulvio poured a complimentary glass of Prosecco, his offer of thanks for being a regular.

A move to a new city means that for a while, maybe a long while, a person is not known anywhere as a "regular."  This situation in which no one knows you, can create a positive "devil may care" attitude, or a negative state of loneliness.  When I first arrived in Florence in September 2019, I experienced both feelings.  Now, though, I am happier to be recognized with a smile and a complimentary Prosechino.  (Note- In this word, the "ch" is pronounced as a "k".) 

🥂🍾