Market

I come from Naples, I arrived in Tarvisio by train, and the first thing I saw was the trees. I had my uncle Mascia here, consequently, my sister and I stayed to give him a hand.

My father was from San Daniele, and I too was born there. Together with my grandfather, they owned a small factory. He had a shop in San Daniele and then, being two brothers, one chose the shop, while my father chose the lorry. So, he periodically came to spend the day in Pontebba, Ugovizza, Malborghetto, Cave and Fusine. Customers came much more easily to the square, where the old market site was — of the weekly market in any case — and so afterwards he began working there too, because it was much more profitable. Later on, the Municipality assigned the square down in Via Vittorio Veneto.

Already back then there were 60 or 70 stalls, which later grew to the 106 stalls we have today. When I arrived, the market was already operating daily, already in 1960. I was a young lad; I was 13 years old. You had to get up at two in the morning to go to the pitch that had been assigned to us to put up the tents, you had to shovel away the snow — and there was a great deal of snow at the time — and then put up the tents, because customers arrived at three or four in the morning. Many railway workers came down along Via Dante, arrived at the market and bought absolutely everything. One thing that amazed us was how they could buy so many dolls, because at the time it was customary, also in Austria, to place a doll in the middle of the double bed. Dolls and double blankets, then shoes and gloves, were the items of greatest interest.
The “ragamuffins” were those customers who, in order not to pay customs duties, came wearing all their old clothes, and then there were those who put on six or seven new shirts — unfortunately, as for shoes, they could wear only one pair — and then they only had to pay a small customs duty. Just as we did to import chocolate, because you could bring only one bar of chocolate. We too went over there to get cigarettes.
We had four poles with corrugated sheet metal and boxes lined with sheet metal to put the goods inside, not all of them, with padlocks. Then afterwards, in 1970, if I am not mistaken, we began to install the first shutters, but there were still gravel walkways, platforms — that was typical of the time.

Back then they called it Shanghai, because it was very colourful, very noisy, picturesque, very picturesque indeed, and so they gave it this nickname.

Then came the years around 2000 - 2008; we decided to create this enclosed market structure, with independent heating. Life changed. The way of trading also changed, because at the time when we had that kind of market, many people went down south to winter, because they could not manage to face the whole winter outdoors, because in fact it was outdoors. Then it spread out across the whole year, because people were more willing to come indoors, it became livelier.
Today the most sought-after item, the one that attracts people most, is clothing: denim clothing. And the clientele is varied. I have noticed that now many young people are coming back, always on an international level; there are the Dutch, the Swiss, many from Malta. In Austria coaches bring them shopping in Tarvisio. Tarvisio has a great fortune precisely in this: have you ever tried going into a large shop in the city centre, I do not know where you are from? You struggle to find a shop assistant. In Tarvisio it is the opposite: many people come because there is direct contact with the customer.

One curious thing I read is that in America the role of the adviser has emerged. It made me smile, since we had customers who often came because they knew you had expertise, you knew what to do. I, for example, had the iron tripod to hammer the seams, stretch things, do a lot of little things. It is important, because when you come looking for something, I have already understood that your foot needs this, needs that, and I can give you a good tip. And this also makes the person feel valued. It is a lovely feeling, isn’t it?