My favorite place to write, when possible, is Robiglio’s Pastacceria
at the corner of Via Poliziana and Via Lavagnini in Florence. It is one of the two oldest pastry cafes in Florence. This is where my good samaritan took me after he picked me up from a nasty fall on Via Poliziana right outside my B & B. He talked to me for forty-five minutes about the Renaissance and particularly the Dome of the Cathedral (Duomo) by the brilliant architect Brunelleschi who constructed the first dome. As we sat drinking (me coke and he espresso), I felt the energy emanating from tables full of Italians speaking of art, love, heartache, and whatever was on their minds. Around us were glass cases of exotic cakes and pastries. It smelled of espresso and chocolate. I love Italy.
As I write this in my lovely (but messy) cranberry colored office overlooking a beautiful valley full of trees in fall colors, a lake and a mountain range, I still wish I could be in Robiglio’s, caught up in a world of loving Italians. Whenever I could, I went there (it was only steps from my B & B) to set up my laptop and write The Only Way to Paradise,
my novel of four “crazy” ladies who visit Florence
(and Robiglio’s) to find healing and happiness. It was as though the blood in my body changed and I became a passionate Italian full of agape (selfless love) and opinions about everything from art to love. My book benefited greatly from those wonderful writing sessions, drinking bitter chocolate in Robiglio’s.