An Italian indulgence

ITALY

From E17 ladies,’’ declares the stout and moustached man who boards our bus in the outskirts of Florence, ‘‘Libero. That means free . . .’’

It’s Libero who will lead us in our lunchtime pasta lesson. First, we must buy the ingredients for the Tuscan soups that will accompany our midday meal.

Sant’ambrogio market is an allweather cornucopia of fruit and vegetables. Our list is in Italian, we have 20 per team of four Trafalgar tour buddies and the trick is to secure a team member who has done an OE in Italy. (Thanks Kate!)

Why are we doing the shopping? ‘‘I don’t work,’’ says Libero. ‘‘You work! And the more that you prepare, the more that you eat today.’’

I’m immediately sidetracked by wild strawberries, really gooey cheese and slices of salami. None of these things are on our list.

An hour later, we’re laden with onions and silverbeet and back in the piazza where Libero breaks a giant flat bread into pieces and shares the story of schiatta – the only traditional bread of this province that is baked with salt.

‘‘In Tuscany, our bread is without salt. It’s a long story. From the 11th century, they increase the tax of the salt. The Florentine people refuse to pay more tax. And they start to prefer bread without salt . . .’’

This story is bound to be in a guidebook, or on a phone app, but there’s something about hearing it from a man who has also provided instructions on how to greet the locals (‘‘You kiss a lady – when a man kiss a man, just brush your cheeks around’’) that is part of the charm of a guided bus trip. Just when it’s slightly annoying to be hauled out of a market before you’ve tasted every kind of cheese on offer, there’s a man with bread – and the story behind it.

Lunch is a raging success. Everyone takes a spin on the dance floor. Cold soup made from bread, vinegar, cucumber, onions and tomato is surprisingly delicious. There is singing as we board the bus back to Florence via the very beautiful Basilica of San Miniato al Monte – which offers a view of Florence minus the dread- ful tourist trappings that come from the standard tourist look out. This is what Trafalgar calls a ‘‘hidden treasure’’. It’s not on your itinerary, and it comes courtesy of your guide who will use local knowledge to charm and delight.

I very badly want to live here, growing olives, eating bread soup and sleeping in houses with 500 years of history.

Back in Florence proper and there is not enough time for the Uffizi Gallery (the full ‘‘at leisure’’ programme would easily allow this), but Marco turns us over to a new guide for the 101 All You Need To Know About Michelangelo’s David.

You could just wander the Accademia Gallery under your own steam, but then you’d miss the enthusiastic commentary from an Italian woman who confides she thinks of David – all 5.17 metres of him – as her beautifully proportioned husband. Michelangelo, she says, never used a model ‘‘because he was a crazy genius. He believed in every block of marble, there was a figure inside’’.

It is actually quite impossible to stop looking at this extraordinary sculpture. We are told David’s pupils are heart-shaped, to give