I'm standing outside the puppet maker's house in the Italian medieval village of Bussana Vecchia. It's raining, and the narrow street is utterly silent, the cobblestones glinting in the yellow light emanating from the glass door in front of me.

The door opens, and Nina Franco beams at me. "Come in! Come in!" She's dressed in paint-spotted blue workman's overalls and a scarf is tied over her hair. Inside this space, which doubles as her workshop, felt hand-puppets and varnished wooden marionettes spill out of wooden crates and hang from nets attached to the ceiling, crowded next to miniature theatres and commedia dell'arte characters.