You have to lose yourself in the narrow streets that crisscross the Borgo, a neighborhood close to the Vatican, to come across this little shop.
At first glance, it's a shoemaker like dozens of others in Rome. You walk in, the bell rings, the woody scent of leather fills your nostrils.
One detail catches your eye: Framed above the counter are countless photos of the owner, Antonio Arellano, with the last three popes.
In his shop, where dozens of colorful shoes, belts, and wallets are stored, the man welcomes all customers warmly, with a smile on his face.
Now 58, the man who holds the unofficial title of “shoemaker to the popes” started from nothing, or almost nothing.
From Peru to Rome
“I arrived in Italy in 1990 and opened this shop in 1998,” explains the native of Trujillo, Peru. His native region is renowned for the quality of its artisan shoemakers.
He started working at a very early age and showed extraordinary talent.
At 14, he was already earning “a master's salary,” in his own words.
Driven by the economic crisis affecting his country, he decided to try his luck on the other side of the world, in Italy, home to a large Peruvian community.
His smile gives way to emotion as he recalls his early years in Rome.
“I started here, repairing shoes in this workshop,” he explains, pointing to the back of the shop.
Over his shoulder, we can see the tools, scraps of leather, and pairs of shoes in progress scattered under the benevolent gaze of paintings of the Virgin Mary and Padre Pio.
His shoes, handmade to fit, quickly gained a good reputation on the left bank of the Tiber. The proximity to the beating heart of the Church opened the doors to a rather special clientele ...
“At first, it was the nuns who came, then the priests, and so on. They would say to me, ‘Sister So-and-so sent me, Father So-and-so recommended that I come.’”
Word of mouth was his best ally: very quickly, even bishops and cardinals were flocking to his little shop to order their own pair of Arellanos.
A customer like no other
One of these princes of the Church made a particular impression on the Peruvian shoemaker: Cardinal Ratzinger.
“He was a very calm, very discreet person. He would come in and sit there,” he says, pointing to an armchair tucked away in a corner of the small shop.
He developed a genuine friendship with the German prelate until that famous day on April 19, 2005.
“My customer had become pope!”
It was great publicity and a real joy for the Peruvian, who soon met Benedict XVI and gave him the famous red shoes that the German Pope wore so often.
Even today, they’re one of the most popular items in his collection.
During Benedict XVI’s pontificate, Arellano supplied him with shoes — both red and black — on several occasions.
After his resignation, they continued to maintain this close relationship, with the Pope not forgetting to celebrate his 50th birthday.
His face becomes more serious when he talks about the death of the German pope.
Deeply moved, he shows a photo of the Pope's body lying in state after his death and points out a detail: Benedict XVI was wearing a pair of Arellano shoes, which he took with him into eternity.
This final gesture of friendship particularly touched the Peruvian craftsman.
The story continues with Francis and Pope Leo XIV
Antonio Arellano admits that he was less close to Pope Francis. The Argentine pontiff wore orthopedic shoes. “He was loyal to the shoemaker who had been making his shoes for 40 years, which is something I respect enormously,” he explains with no bitterness.
Pope Francis also gave him a gift by blessing his and his wife’s wedding rings on their 25th wedding anniversary.
Above his head, more recent photos show that his history with the popes continues: He and his son, with whom he now works, were received by their compatriot Pope Leo XIV shortly after his election. “He's a wonderful man. We spoke Spanish and discussed Peru,” he says.
But more importantly, the new Pope ordered shoes from them. Reaching under his counter, the man pulls out a yellow cardboard folder.
Making sure we wouldn't take a photo, he carefully removes an A4 sheet of paper.
In his calloused hands are the measurements of the feet of Peter's Successor.
With a pen, the shoemaker has scribbled a few numbers and traced the outline of the Pope's foot.
“I offered him different colors, but he insisted on black,” said the shoemaker.
Twenty days after that meeting, two pairs of custom-made shoes were delivered.
Mission accomplished for the shoemaker, who was keen to ensure that Peter's Successor was comfortable in his shoes.