We went into Scarperia yesterday afternoon. We were on a hunt for a small knife for Cooper. This is a medieval town nestled in the countryside of Tuscany known for it’s knife making. The tradition and skill has been passed down from father to son for hundreds of years. So we rolled in at lunchtime, which meant that the town was closed for a few hours – three hours to be exact and not a minute more! As much as this was a bit of an obstacle for us, I appreciate this tradition. Close, go and eat and relax and then come back for the afternoon.
So while we waited for the shops to reopen we wandered around the little lanes, listening to the clatter of dishware above as the occupants enjoyed their lunch. To fill in the time, we stopped to have some gelato at one of the few places that was open. Gelato has become de riguer for us. No adventure is complete without it.
When the shops did finally resume their afternoon commerce, we found to our (mostly Cooper’s) disappointment, that the style of knives that this town makes are unquestionably beautiful, but a little too dangerous for a small boy. Even the smallest of knives had a very sharp pointy blade and both Chris and I foresaw too many risky scenarios and bandaged hands had we chosen one of these items. So the search continues. Perhaps a Langouille from France? Why do we seem to get embroiled in weaponry pursuits with our son?