Sorrento's Last Horseman

The city reveals itself at the slow pace of its horse. In the heart of lively Sorrento, where every summer the tourist flow...

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The city reveals itself at the slow pace of its horse. In the heart of lively Sorrento, where every summer the tourist flow fills the streets with different languages and colors, there is still room for slowness, for authentic encounters, for an experience that tastes of memory. Franco Lazzazzara is the last coachman of the city. With his carriage pulled by an elegant white horse, he continues to travel the historic streets of the peninsula, offering those who meet him not only a panoramic tour but a real dive into the past. This year, his presence is even more special: the tourist train that for years accompanied visitors on a short city tour is not in service. And so Franco, with his carriage, remains the only true alternative to discover Sorrento at a slow pace, away from the chaos and frantic rush. Every morning he can be seen arriving in Piazza Tasso, with the cordial smile of someone who has chosen not to stop, despite his age, despite the changing times. "I've been doing it for a lifetime," he says, "and as long as my legs hold, I'll keep going. The tourists love me, many return every year to take the tour with me." Francuccio is the last witness of a tradition that was once the very symbol of Sorrentine hospitality. In the Sixties and Seventies, there were dozens of coachmen stationed in Piazza Tasso or at the station, ready to welcome visitors with the sound of hooves on the cobblestones. Today, amid increasingly stringent regulations and a profoundly changed urban mobility, he is the only one left. But he does not complain. "It's not a job, it's my life. I know every corner of Sorrento like the back of my hand, and I enjoy telling it to those who come from afar." His itinerary is a short but intense journey: from the historic center to hidden viewpoints. At each stop, a story, an anecdote, a memory. Children greet him enthusiastically, adults take pictures, the elderly are moved. Because the sound of wooden wheels and the rhythmic trot of the horse take everyone back in time, when holidays were made of waiting, slowness, and wonder. Franco Lazzazzara, today, is much more than a coachman: he is a guardian of memory, a living fragment of the Sorrentine soul. And as long as his carriage continues to roam the streets, Sorrento can still be, at least a little, itself.

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Il Mattino