Characters of Firenze, Part 1

The more I wander around the city, the more I realise that there are a number of charicatures of Florentine life that recur time and time again. I'm not talking about the cartoon charicatures that the myriad of artists here are ready to scribble out as fast as you can drop 5 Euros into their hands, (although they might rank for a place in the Characters list on their own!) but the characters that you can spot in every part of the City of Art.
I want to write about each of them gradually, but my first pen portrait is dedicated to the African bag sellers.
An amazing bunch of guys, with, I am sure, an incredibly hard life, these guys are everywhere and now as much a part of Florence as the Arno or Davide, you can see them all over the city centre - from the Duomo to the Ponte Vecchio and back again.
They lay their wares out on huge white sheets, and stand shoulder to shoulder along the streets leading from every major square, hoping to lure one of the many, many, many tourists to make a purchase, at a negotiated price that is mutually acceptable.
I sat yesterday evening having a sundowner in the Piazza Della Republica, and watched the troop outside Zara for a while. The tallest guy, with the broad smile, who was nearest to the coffee shop seemed more successful than the rest - survival of the fittest - but I am not sure whether this was due to his height, the spot he had staked his stall on, his superior collection of bags, or his sales technique.
The bags are all knock-offs of course, and the police are supposed to be cracking down on the trade in a big way. So after a while a horn started to sound quietly and a rush of activity ensued - with every vendor on the street picking his sheet up by its 4 corners and, tucking all the copy bags safely inside, throwing it over his shoulder Dick Whittington style before dashing over to stand near the coffee shop, and off the main drag. Likewise the guys selling the sunglasses on carboard sheets - they fold in half and are carried like a picnic table around the corner.
Now surrounded by bag and glasses sellers, I watched with interest as a car bearing the words Polizia Municipale cruised slowly down the street.
After it had passed however, the sellers were back out with a vengeance, stopping only to throw a quick smile in the direction of the waiter (who in turn suggested they might like to give me a bag for free - they didn't but it was nice of him to ask!)
In the hour that I sat at the bar, this process happened twice - and each time the bags were gone for about 1 minute or less. The more experienced of them have it sorted, they can lift and move the sheet without really disturbing the lines of products inside. The newbies though, have a harder job, having to rebuild the display every time.