Cosimo il Vecchio , aka Cosimo Pater Patriae” (Latin: ‘father of the nation’), wanted to be seen as a modest man , a gentleman of low ambition and no threat to the people of Florence,  so one of the ways he tried to show his lack of ostentation was to always ride an ass, as opposed to the flashy expensive horses chosen by his rivals – and indeed his own sons  – and especially his Palio enthusiast grandson,  Lorenzo , il Magnifico .

Cosimo wanted posterity to know that he preferred a steady brown ass to a showy horse, so Benozzo Gozzoli painted the father of Florence on his favourite lowly mount on the walls of the family chapel in the Medici Palazzo .

Perhaps Cosimo also wanted to show that he could cope with stubborn creatures – Florentines included?

However I am with him with this affection- I rather like donkey’s – and I am recognised for my stubborn determination, – so I feel an affinity!

So where is the connection with Florence? I am over in Paris this week, joining a group of friends celebrating a big birthday – which meant we were here on Palm Sunday in time to see the faithful on parade with their bunches of “rameaux” – cut box branches that they use in France instead of palm crosses.

………………and more surprisingly, until we worked out the Palm Sunday connection,  we met a man with a cartload of donkeys!

All seemed to have gone well at first , five of his donkeys were already on board and waiting to go home – but the final one was not minded to join them and was letting all Paris know of her fear and displeasure with the most frightful display of “Eeoring” I have ever heard!

Naturally I rushed back to the cart to see what was going on! The owner was trying to pull the reluctant creature onto the cart and she was literally digging her pretty little hooves into the Parisian pavement with all the stubbornness her breed is renowned for!

Her desperate cries for help had also attracted rather a large crowd of tourists and the poor owner was looking flushed, harassed and thoroughly embarrassed.  As Hanne , my Danish friend would say “What to do?”

– Simple! find a carrot!

I dashed into the nearest restaurant and tried to explain to the waitress , (who turned out to be Georgian!) in a hideous mixture of French and Italian , that I needed a carrot!  She was surprised but not unfriendly!

In order to explain my request – for which I was proffering money – I took her outside to witness the spectacle of the desperate owner still trying to pull his braying miscreant onto the cart – so she laughed and gave me an excellent large carrot  , without charge ! Shaking her head a little at “les Anglaise! ” perhaps?

The donkey was instantly interested in the bribe and keen to cosy up to me as a potential ally , but still not prepared to join her friends in the frightful cart, so the increasingly large pack of tourists had the further spectacle of watching “la fou Anglaise” backing up the steps of the cart with the donkey stretching out her neck – and her teeth (her lower jaw seeming as dis-jointed as the Alien in her attempt to grab the sweet treat!) – to the full extent but still not prepared to take one single step towards the dreaded cart!

Fortunately she was sufficiently distracted by the carrot to not notice her owner swiftly grabbing her back legs and pushing her front two feet onto the gangplank – whereon she quickly snaffled half the carrot as she calmly walked up the plank to join the others – and I was able to give her the final part as a reward!

The honour of the English as crazy animal lovers was fully maintained I felt!