Visiting Medieval Craftsman

I came to Italy to visit one craftsman I was acquainted with. I found the street. I walked slowly counting the buildings. I saw two young guys walking towards me. Streets are so narrow here, that I had to cuddle to the wall to give them some space to move. When they passed, I noticed small trenches on both sides of the street, and they smelled disgusting. Hardly had I thought what these trenches were there for, I heard water splashing behind. I turned my head. Some hostess poured slops out of the windows directly to the street. Oh, that's what the trenches are used for!
I had turned my head back for several times before I got to my destination. Every time it was the same action, and the trenches were fully filled with dirty water, peelings and wastes. That's why the street had an awful smell.
I was really glad when I finally found the house of the craftsman. The entrance was open, so I came in. I was met by a friendly face of a young boy. "Came to take your shoes? Or to order ones?" he asked.
I said, "No. I was invited by the host."
The boy smiled to me and nodded. "Ok, that's my father."
He offered to walk to the upper floor, and I agreed.
The craftsman's son went first with a lighted torch. I followed him. The spiral staircase was narrow and dark.
We came out to a roomy and well-lighted area. It was a hall of the upper floor. There was a dining table, and the craftsman with his wife and children sitting at the table.
"Hello! And welcome! We were expecting you exactly today. Come here and sit down, please."
I sat down to the table. While his wife was getting the food and placing it on the table, the craftsman was telling me something, but I could hardly hear him. I mostly heard the noises coming from the ground floor. These were sounds of hammer bumps and talks of the workers. Also the window was open, and I heard some screams and talks from the street.
The craftsman's wife gave me a bowl of cabbage soup, small piece of black bread and a wooden spoon. The same set she gave to everyone else at the table. The craftsman prayed, and the family began eating. Hardly had I managed to eat a half of my portion, when the craftsman's and his sons' bowls were empty.
"Wow! You eat that fast!" surprised I.
"If I eat slowly, I won't have enough time to do my entire job," replied the craftsman.
He waited until I finish my soup and offered to look at his workshops. We went downstairs. On the ground floor the craftsman opened the door to a workshop. I entered first and plunged into a loud of dust. It was hard to breathe there. The craftsman took me to the opposite corner of the workshop; that corner was less dusty. I coughed for a while, and then asked, "How can you work here if there is so much dust and so much noise?"
"I got used to it. People who work for me don't care about the dust, they just need money."
"Is there many people working for you? How many shoes they make every day?"
"I have twenty workers here. You know, I applied a good feature to increase their productivity: one half of the workers makes right boots, and the other makes left boots. It helps a lot. Every day a worker makes three boots. So, totally I have thirty pairs of shoes every day. Moreover, I work myself, and my sons work from time to time.
I smiled. "Thirty pairs of shoes isn't a lot for twenty workers, is it?"
The craftsman a little confused. "My workshops are small. I have a long way to go until I can be compared with a manufacture owner."
We came out to the street. I thanked the craftsman for this meeting.
"My pleasure," replied he, "come again! I'll introduce you my neighbor; he produces crockery."
I waved my hand and began walking on the narrow street.

July 24 2015