Florence on film

When I was nineteen, I dreamed of becoming a professional cyclist. Although, I was living in Northern Ontario, where the winters are long, I spent the short summers riding for hours throughout the rugged mining roads, which surrounded my hometown of Sudbury. Of course, I had an Italian racing bike (a beautiful Pinarello) as well as all the Lycra a young man could want. What I didn’t have was any actual experience racing a bike in Europe or even outside of my home province.

When a close friend died in a cycling accident, my parents thought it would be good for me to get away. My father booked me a one-month trip to Umbria, Italy, where I would live and train with other aspiring cyclists. The trip was life changing. I got to race on the gorgeous Italian roads, and in the evenings, I would dine on fresh pasta, local wine, and espresso.

When I returned home, I embraced my newfound Italian culture. I made my parents buy a stovetop espresso machine, just like I had in the villa, and I lectured my father about the wines of Umbria and the virtues of al dente pasta.

I never did become a professional cyclist, which is probably for the best given the prevalence of doping in the sport at the time. But I still ride my bike regularly and, yes, it’s made from Italian Columbus tubing with Campagnolo components. And I still reminisce about the wonderful time I had in Umbria.

In the 25 years since that trip, I’ve traveled to many other places throughout the world, but sadly I’ve never been back to Italy. That is, until this past spring when a work meeting brought me to Florence for a week.

This time around I wasn’t worrying about what cycling outfits to pack. In the intervening years, my obsession for bikes had been supplanted with a fixation for film cameras. Although there are exceptional Italian-made cameras, like those by Ducati Sogno, my predilection is for those made in Germany.

For weeks, I debated about what camera and lens to take on the trip. I ultimately settled on a Leica M6 (the reissue from 2022) with a Summilux-M 50mm f/1.4 (the pre-aspherical version). For film, I packed Kodak T-Max 400 and Gold 200 (three rolls of each).

My work schedule in Florence was tight, but I had a few free mornings and afternoons as well as two days in the medieval town of Barga (Tuscany) to get out and exercise the M6. Although I’m relatively well traveled, I’m embarrassed to admit that this was the first time I’d taken photographs on a trip. I came to photography late in life and on previous adventures I was more concerned with running up mountains than photographing them.

Being late March, Florence wasn’t too crowed or hot, and I was able to explore the city easily, apart from the odd rainstorm. Burga and the surrounding Tuscan countryside reminded me of my earlier trip to Umbria, and I couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to ride across some of the rolling hills on the horizon.

Towards the end of the trip, I popped into a small bike shop. The owner was friendly and showed me some of the vintage Italian bikes he had for sale, including an old Pinarello, just like the one I had all those years ago. As I walked out, I noticed a bin of cycling caps. I tried on a few and then chose one that fit nicely on my shaved head. I paid the man, donned the cap, and walked out into the sunny Italian afternoon, and for a moment I was 19 again and ready to climb onto my bike and ride until I couldn’t ride anymore.

I hope you enjoyed this selection of film photos from my trip to Florence and Burga. If you are interested in seeing more of my photography, you can find me on Instagram and Leica Fotografie International.

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