In October last year, I spent a few days in Florence, a city I had lived in and hadn’t seen since. When I left, it was July, sweltering, and choking in the grips of selfie-stick wielding tourists. When I returned, there was a chill in the air, a peace over the cooling cobble stones and a sense of its own restored vitality.

I have often thought that the autumn is the best time to be in Florence. It ripens, relaxes and opens again, having been stamped down throughout the summer months. I went with a mission of finding the town I remembered and found it, as I always did, in the markets: Sant’Ambrogio and Mercato Centrale. When editing the images, I was reminded of why I loved going to these places. Even with tables and tables of brightly coloured vegetables, the hundreds of things to look at, to sniff and taste, the place was always defined by its characters. I got chatting to a few. They hadn’t changed at all. I hope these pictures portray some of that character, of the people and of the city itself.