Il Dolce Far Niente

After all of the climbing the day before, we decided to enjoy a relaxing morning in Florence.  Our first stop was a tiny restaurant called Rooster, just down the street from the library and only a few blocks away.  It was so small that we walked by it the first time (I was navigating using Google Maps and said, “It’s supposed to be around here somewhere”).  Its entrance had been blocked by a short line waiting to get in, which was longer when we finally found it.  But it was well worth the wait, and a welcome change from daily granola in our Airbnb and croissants sourced the night before in the local market.  We enjoyed bacon and eggs, roasted potatoes, and (for me) a Florentine Benedict - smoked salmon instead of Canadian bacon.  (We would have to forgo the grits until we returned to Charlotte.)  The little place had one of those curved brick ceilings and could not have seated more than 25 or 30 people, many of them students or Americans.

We spent the rest of the day exploring Florence, with its endless streets and small cafes.  I did not even take any notes for this blog.  We just walked and walked, and sat down and had a glass of wine on a little rooftop bar near the Duomo, and made our way back to the Airbnb eventually.

On days like this we sometimes thought about Martha’s 94-year-old aunt Anne, who had inspired us to spend so much time in this beautiful city.  Had she walked in the same streets, perhaps sat at the same sidewalk cafés so long ago?  Surely she had spent days like this, simply wandering from place to place in what the Italians call Il dolce far niente (I once wrote a poem about this), "the sweetness of doing nothing."  It is more a state of mind, really – the pleasure of relaxing and enjoying simple moments in the day without any specific activity in mind, such as climbing a dome or visiting a museum.   

We felt very Italian today!  And Martha had even found a leather coat that made her look Italian!