Le buchette del vino
Your friend in Florence
Five hundred years ago the great families of this city cut small arched hatches into their palace walls, and sold wine straight from the cellar.
You knocked. A hand came out with a flask. You never saw a face.
Then in 1630 the plague came, and the little windows became the safest counter in Florence.
Wine out through the stone, coins dropped into a dish of vinegar, nobody touching anybody.
The city kept drinking through a quarantine, one hatch at a time.
Then the centuries closed them. Bricked up, painted over, hidden behind scooters and postboxes.
Around a hundred and fifty are still in these walls, if you know which ones to look at.
And some are open again, doing the exact thing they were cut for. A hand, a glass, a window in a wall.
That is where we start, at three in the afternoon. It finishes with a microphone in somebody's hand.

