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It was really dark. I squinted as I took in the surroundings and saw we were in an underground car park.
‘Come. Let us go to the hotel. Is too early to check in, so we will leave our bags and go to the first place.’
‘Ooh!’
I was intrigued. Especially as it was only 8 a.m. I did wonder why we’d arrived so early when check-in wasn’t normally until the afternoon, but just thought that Lorenzo wanted to make the most of the day. I guessed we’d probably do the normal tourist things like visit museums and check out the famous landmarks. Some of the queues for those places were really long, so I supposed it made sense we got there as soon as possible.
To be honest, I wasn’t that cultured and whilst the idea of walking around for hours didn’t really appeal, I vowed to try and appreciate every second, because unlike my last visit to Florence, at least this time Lorenzo would be here. Right beside me.
Once we were outside, Lorenzo led me along the streets, passing artisan jewellers, shops with handcrafted books and paper. Looked like some Florentine street-food stalls and people selling leather bags were setting up too.
I could see the cathedral, or should I sayDuomo, with its striking pink, white and green marble exterior, was nearby. I thought we would be heading towards it, but Lorenzo slipped down a cobbled street, then entered a secluded courtyard, which was surrounded by ancient Roman walls.
Wow.
‘We are here,’ said Lorenzo.
I saw the entrance to the hotel straight ahead. As we stepped through the doors, I could tell the place was dripping with history.
There was a grand reception desk with a tall vase filled with vibrant red flowers, which was opposite what looked like original exposed-stone walls. The reception area was decorated with a mixture of antique and contemporary pieces, as well as a large ornate gilt mirror. By the fireplace, which was against the back wall, there was a glass table, with a selection of coffee table books neatly laid out and cream leather armchairs on either side. I liked it here. Not too old-fashioned and not overly modern. And it smelt so good. It was like the hotel had been perfumed with the most deliciously sweet fragrances.
‘This place looks amazing!’ I gushed as we approached the receptionist.
‘You will see properly later when we check in.’
‘Do I need to change my clothes? Bring anything?’
‘No. You are perfect just as you are.’
Awww. I gave him a big hug. That was nice to hear. I figured comfortable clothing was in order for some sightseeing, so I was wearing jeans, a jumper and my Converse. A step up from my usual T-shirt and leggings combo.
‘Andiamo. We should go,’ said Lorenzo after we’d left our bags with the hotel staff. ‘Cannot be late.’
We weaved back through the streets. This location was perfect. Just a short walk from the major landmarks, but yet tucked away from the hustle and bustle. Lorenzo had chosen well. I was excited to see where we were going.
‘First,caffè.’
Of course.
Before I knew it, we were stood outside a tiny coffee shop in a side street.
‘Is my favourite place. When I was working inFirenze, I come here every day. Is over a hundred years old.’
You could kind of tell from the dated décor. It had old-fashioned tiled floors, a wrought-iron sign and dark wood tables and chairs. What it lacked in style, it seemed to make up for with authenticity. It was filled with people, who all appeared to be speaking Italian. This definitely wasn’t a typical tourist spot.
‘Must be pretty special, then. Can’t wait to try it.’
The strong aroma filled the air.Delicious.I’d always liked coffee, but since moving to Italy, I’d found a new appreciation for it. Not least because I needed it to function every morning.
Lorenzo ordered two coffees and croissants and we squeezed into a spot by the brown-speckled bar area to eat them.
I took a sip. ‘Mmmm…’ It tasted divine. A million times better than what we had in London.
‘Is good, no?’
‘Sì!’
‘Bene.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Come. We must go.’ I wrapped the rest of my croissant in the serviette and pushed it into my handbag.
