Arno River in Florence
There is a rowing club up river past the Ponte Vecchio and above that a dam. Another dam below the bridge I’m standing on provides flat water for a mile or so in the heart of Florence. I remember watching each dip of the oar slowly disappear in its own self-contained eddy that early morning, with the rower having the privilege of sharing the river with no one but a few local shopkeepers unfurling their awnings before the crowds descended.
There is a rowing club up river past the Ponte Vecchio and above that a dam. Another dam below the bridge I’m standing on provides flat water for a mile or so in the heart of Florence. I remember watching each dip of the oar slowly disappear in its own self-contained eddy that early morning, with the rower having the privilege of sharing the river with no one but a few local shopkeepers unfurling their awnings before the crowds descended.
There is a rowing club up river past the Ponte Vecchio and above that a dam. Another dam below the bridge I’m standing on provides flat water for a mile or so in the heart of Florence. I remember watching each dip of the oar slowly disappear in its own self-contained eddy that early morning, with the rower having the privilege of sharing the river with no one but a few local shopkeepers unfurling their awnings before the crowds descended.