When I have guests like those of today I remind why I do this job.

An american couple (one of the few in this period!), he had already been here in Florence, while for her it was the first time. Her eyes were full of tears in front of the David, she said it was her lifetime dream to come and see it personally, and then again, at the Uffizi, tears were coming out from her eyes in front of Botticelli’s Spring.

She said to her husband: “The guide will think I’m crazy!”, but actually seeing her so excited, I was almost crying too, and I comforted her saying that actually crazy is the one that doesn’t feel anything in front of all this beauty, who does a thounsand miles just to make a photo at the artworks and doesn’t want to know anything about them, about why they exist and about who created them.

The madness is coming to Florence and not give oneself the time to dive into the town, a journey is a too important, intimate and instructive moment to live it in a hurry.

“Traveling makes one modest. It makes us realize how small the place we occupy in the world is” said Flaubert. I couldn’t agree more!