It’s a sweltering summer day in Florence, and along the Arno River throngs of tourists are shuffling between the Uffizi Galleries and Ponte Vecchio. Sunburned selfie-takers walk by mid-morning spritz drinkers, and no one seems to notice a square green door tucked inside the walls of the Uffizi. Next to the door’s stone frame is a small sign for the Società Canottieri Firenze—an exclusive, century-old private rowing club—and below it, a metal plaque translating several languages to “Members Only.”
Founded in 1911, the Società Canottieri Firenze continues the city’s rowing legacy, which first arrived on the Arno in the mid–19th century. Despite being a Florentine native and third-generation member of the club, Michele Nannelli, a convivial surgeon who has served as the club’s president since 2021, feels the beauty of experiencing his city through sport has never lost its potency. “Rowing here is like rowing inside a museum,” he says.
While the club hosts a competitive team, participating in tournaments around the world and sending generations of rowers to the Olympics, many members join for the cachet, the exercise, or to get away from the crowds. “The tourists in the center of Florence can make you feel crazy even if you don’t live there,” says Felipe Moura, a second-year member who is originally from Buenos Aires. “Once you’re on the river, though, you are able to forget everything. And the perspective of the city [from the water] is amazing.”
In 1933, the Società Canottieri Firenze relocated from a floating dock alongside the Ponte Santa Trinità to its current location beneath the Uffizi. Formed by a maze of vaulted tunnels, the space previously served as the Medici family’s subterranean horse stables. Today, the club features a gym, specialized training facilities, a boathouse, and a bar-restaurant. The walls are adorned with trophies, oars, and photos charting the club’s history, including one of Pope John Paul II with the club’s pennant, taken during a visit to Florence.
Come summertime, the club’s crown jewel is its private lawn, which stretches along the banks of the Arno. With unobstructed views of the Ponte Vecchio, a cross-section of the club’s 700 members and guests jockey for tables during lunch and aperitivo. “It’s an institution,” says Moritz Casini, a member who first visited the club as a child. Over a plate of zucchini risotto, Nannelli adds, “You know that in Italy, without food, nothing exists.”
While the membership skews towards gentry, and celebrity drop-ins during Pitti Uomo, or from new additions to the city, like Jeff Goldblum, are not uncommon, the club prides itself on a low-key, chummy atmosphere—think the Ferragamo family rather than the Ferragamo-clad. To visit, though, guests need a member to invite them. The club also has a handful of reciprocal agreements, including with the Nautical Society of Monaco and Bologna’s Circolo della Caccia.
“There are no rumors, no crowds,” Nannelli says. Instead, the club embraces an eclectic cross-section of the city, creating a second home for those who are interested in the sport, the community, and, above all, what Nannelli describes as the most sacred of Florentine values: “The spirit of irony and jokes.”
Bennett DiDonna is a writer from Los Angeles. He divides his time between Florence and Paris
