Provenza
We come here on Wednesday mornings, just after the bakeries open. The light comes in low through the trees and the tile sidewalks are still wet from the cleaning. There is the smell of espresso from the corner café and the slightly damp smell of pavement that has just been hosed off. By 9, the conversations at the next table are mostly in English — that is the honest reading of Provenza in 2026. Come on Wednesday and you can still catch what it was before. Come on Saturday afternoon and you are seeing what it has become.
— from our walk