The Good, the Bad, and Forget the Ugly

I can honestly say, because I’ve lived in Florence, Italy, for so long, I have witnessed some major changes in the renaissance city. I came from Michigan to do a two-year art conservation program back in the 80’s and sure enough, the ancient city pulled me in like so many other expats, so much so that it has become part of my own life’s history.

Back then Borgo Albizzi, one of the main gateways leading into the center of the center, used to be a treasure cove of local artisans and barber shops (you know, those hangouts to keep the Florentine male population well groomed). Believe it or not, there still was a place that fluffed up sheep’s wool used to stuff mattresses (most uncomfortable mattress you’ll ever sleep in!). “Carta e Cartone” wasn’t a stationery shop, but it was where I bought drawing paper by the meter cut from big rolls in the back of their warehouse. Yeah, Fabriano drawing paper from the local art supply shop had to wait until I could afford it.

Florence was terribly dirty back then, with traffic going around the Duomo turning its multicolored marble into a dull gray. The city couldn’t keep up its cleaning, having to start all over again by the time they scrubbed their way around the entire cathedral. The cleaning process improved when traffic was deviated for good - and sent elsewhere.

The streets had accumulation of trash because you had to put it in the street outside your building for pick-up, which didn’t always happen. And of course there was no recycling except for the homeless bag lady that collected newspapers and boxes. Don’t know where she took it, but it did earn her daily bread.

If you think dog poop on the streets is bad today - you should have seen the mess back then: it wasn’t until 2017 that a law was passed in Florence to get a fine if your doggie is caught hunched over in number two position: 160 euro - for what it’s worth.

The worst part of the 80’s and 90’s were the drug dealers and addicts meeting in the historical center. I’m talking about the really horrible stuff, like heroin. I lived in an apartment by Santa Croce with my husband and our two small children, and looking down from our window into the street where Michelangelo once walked to Casa Buonarroti I often would see a drug addict sitting on the curb behind a parked car plugging his ankle or arm with a needle. Needles were left in abundance in the streets and parks. Once, when I was getting the stroller out of our building for a walk, I found a needle used like a dart stuck in the center of the front door. I worked in the museum as a fresco restorer at the time, and though the daycare where I took my toddlers provided excellent care and food, the preschool teachers had to examine and scope out the garden with gloves to see if any needles were thrown over the preschool’s wall. AIDS was prevalent in that era, and the risk of infection could be picked up from a simple prick of a dirty needle. Dealers and addicts eventually disappeared in the center - and sent elsewhere.

To say the least we moved to the country, in a distant affordable place in a secluded fienile on a hillside near Montespertoli. The move wasn’t easy, but I could still drive into work from there while allowing my children to grow in Tuscany’s natural settings. It was the best choice I suppose, yet when I get to the center of Florence now, as many problems as it may have, the historical aspect still fills me with a sense of belonging and inspiration. I do get nostalgic for the old Florentine artist and craftsman shops now replaced by restaurants and pubs for tourists, or cheap trinket shops owned by Chinese. It seems like after the lockdown, now more than ever, half the world wants to see the Renaissance city. But even if it's immersed in chaotic confusion these days, taking a walk through Florence’s historical streets, past its piazzas and palazzi, you can’t help feeling that the ancient city hasn’t changed throughout the centuries. You know, you have to take the good with the bad and leave the ugly past behind.. although my next post has to talk about the Black Death. It’s all part of the history.