I arrived at 9pm Sunday night ready to begin my creative course in Photography, Creative Writing and Italian first thing Monday morning.
I didn’t speak the language… well, I remember listening to italian language tapes when I was around 14, when Italy first captured me. So I knew numbers (cinque, undici, dodici, tredici)…. and things like Dove é Piazza san Marco?
I had also learned Spanish for many years so I figured I would be able to understand, and things would be fine.
I landed in Peretola airport, which is a very small airport, and was greeted by the warm night air.
The first thing that shocked me were the taxis. Usually, in other countries you would almost be hounded by taxi drivers waiting to take you places. But here, around 60 travellers lined up while few taxi drivers slowly picked up passengers.
Surely a great business opportunity, I thought to myself. Why don’t people know this?
But this was one of the first things I noticed about Florence – cabs are very different here. you cannot just hail down a taxi.