Italians have more fun. Why? My theory is that they have more permission in their culture to indulge in pleasure than we Anglo-Saxons do.
This has been clear to me since my first time in Italy over 30 years ago. And I’ve now moved, hopefully for good, to this paradise of exiles.
Right now in my converted cow barn rental in the Tuscan countryside there isn’t a heck of a lot of pleasure going on, as it’s so cold that I can’t get my fingers to type properly on the keyboard. I only feel the heat of the pellet stove if I’m pressed against it. The ceilings are too high and there is no other heat source except a small fireplace in the kitchen that lets smoke into the room. But its strikingly pretty to see from the garden, the Pania della Croce covered in snow (that crazy mountain I climbed this past summer before I even knew its name).
On my recent sojourn in Florence I was warm for a week in an apartment with real heat. And whats more, I knew that it is where I belong—as I knew back in 1984 on my first visit to the city. It’s never changed. And that’s a damn beautiful thing.
I walked around the San Frediano quarter at 1:00 in the morning, filming the street scenes for no particular reason, and then I could not resist filming my enthusiasm for being there, for the pizza I had eaten earlier at the Mercato Centrale, for the quality of the cheese, for the fact that Italians are having more fun…
In my newsletter I have started answering each month, each time in a different way, the question “Why do I live in Tuscany?” This month the answer to that question is this video: