Hmmmm… Where to start with Florence? I’ve been wanting to visit this city for a very long time. I think it was just a bit jarring to go to such a tourist-heavy city right after cozy, student-filled Bologna. I think I was expecting more of the same, but it was really quite different. My little train took me there in about an hour and a half.

(Also, let me just apologize in advance for all the different formatting in the pictures in this post. I can’t easily fix it right now, so I’m going to worry about it when I’m home with a real computer to work from!)

So. The first thing I did when I arrived was check into my Airbnb, called The Strange Uncle BnB. They had drawings of this strange man all over the house. It was a cute little place, and I had the Jungle Room, which they thankfully renamed from the Lonely Trip room after having a local artist convert it to a jungle paradise. They still hadn’t changed the sign on the door, though, so I was reminded every time I came home of my growing desire for some cuddles.

The location of my stay was amazing. We were right on an alley next to a large piazza and cathedral, and just around the corner was a street crowded with leather markets. I was tickled to see that the Italian leather purse I bought in Spain two years ago was actually made here, and I saw it hanging in different colors on several stalls. You have no idea how hard it was to not buy a second one in a different color. Ugh.

I think that’s another reason Florence wasn’t quite as nice and relaxing as Bologna – instead of being enticed to eat constantly, I was being enticed to shop. Dangerous, especially considering there really is not a lot of extra space in my little backpack!

Since I arrived in the afternoon, my first day was spent mostly wandering the markets and trying to convince myself not to buy anything. I did stop off for some dinner, starving from my lack of lunch. It was a little strange. I was pulled in by the pastas in the window, and I figured it would be sort of like pasta salad, but to my surprise, the man behind the counter piled a plate high with tortellini before popping it in the microwave right in front of me. It must have been a very low powered microwave, too, because after two minutes, it was still a bit cold. Haha. Oh well. The wine was nice, though.

I eventually and reluctantly pulled myself away from my book to do a little more exploring.

And then it was time for sleep. Well, first I took like… The best shower ever. Let’s see…. I’m trying to think back… The shower in my hostel in Rovaniemi was pretty nice – big, in a very boutique-style bathroom, and the shower in the hotel I had to stay in in Levi was a standard hotel shower, but that was only a few days into my trip, so I didn’t fully appreciate it. Since then, I’ve been jumping from shower to shower, and they all seemed to have little problems – water wouldn’t get very warm, water temperature would change constantly throughout the shower, nothing to attach the shower head to, etc. But this shower was newly renovated, came stocked with goji berry scented shower gels and shampoos, and was oh, so very warm. I sang in the shower for the first time in a long time. It was amazing.

Now, my only complaint with this apartment was that the whole thing had a sort of potpourri scent, and my room was so filled with this smell that it was very nearly suffocating. I actually couldn’t sleep because of my allergies. Every time I would start to doze off, I would wake up in a fit of coughs. With no other options, I swung open the windows (shutter-style!) wide as they would go and tucked back into bed. I told myself I would get up to close them in about ten minutes, seeing as it was about 35 degrees outside, but I fell asleep before I could do anything of the sort. My window faced into a little courtyard, so it was completely blocked by all of the street sounds, and church bells do not ring aloud until nine in the morning, so I was woken pleasantly after eleven hours of sleep by the cheerful sound of bells and the cool kiss of the morning breeze on my cheeks. There were so many layers of blankets and pillows on my bed that I didn’t even notice the chill. It really was a heavenly way to wake up.

I started my morning with yogurt, apples, and tea, and then I was off to explore Florence.

My first big stop was the Duomo, and gosh was this building awe-inspiring. It was very centrally located and only a few minutes from my stay, so I ran across it several times a day and had to stop in my tracks each time to gaze up at the beautiful marble colors.

I wasted no time in buying some art from a man in the middle of creating his next masterpiece. I loved his style and the colors he used.

Next, I happened upon a little church that had been converted into a museum, and it had a great view of the Duomo from the top floor.

Then more churches…

And a stop for lunch: tiramisu, a macchiato, and a panini.
This café was right next to Piazza del Signoria, the second most famous landmark of the city, right behind the Duomo. There are several famous sculptures and the second replica of Michelangelo’s David lining the square.

Then I made my way along toward the water, where there is one particularly famous bridge lined with buildings brimming with jewelry shops. I decided I would walk down the bridge itself later and get a pretty view of the outside for now.

I was so enchanted by the view that I propped myself up on the ledge and read for a bit.

If you look closely, you’ll see that there is a little man playing the arrow like a guitar on the street sign. This little sit only lasted about ten minutes before my fear of falling over the side got the better of me, though.

Across the water, I found some intriguing street art and the museum Palazzo Pitti. There was a gently sloping slab of asphalt in front of the palace where dozens of people lay enjoying the warmth of the sunset, and I decided to join them.

 

I carried on eventually in search of dinner, and I found it in the form of gnocchi rosé and a glass of very sweet sparkling wine. Definitely my favorite meal since that meat and cheese platter in Bologna.

The walk back the way I had come was just as pretty in the dark.

When I reached my little piazza, I sat on the church steps for a while to listen to a band performing American songs such as “Yankee Doodle Dandy” and “This Land is Your Land,” while a funny little man danced enthusiastically in front of them. I’m really not sure what was going on, because the men were clearly Italian. Trying to cater to the American tourists, perhaps?

Because I’d had so much luck with the open-air sleeping the night before, and because my room had re-stuffed during the day, I repeated my ritual of a warm shower and wide-open windows. It was another resounding success.

With my apples and yogurt breakfast this morning, I added a cup of rich Lindt hot chocolate that I made using packets I bought in Bologna. Gosh it was tasty, and for some reason the milk from the grocery store was also extra delicious. I couldn’t tell if it was just that I hadn’t had any milk to drink in a while or if this Italian milk was extra rich. 10/10, either way.

When I’d visited the Duomo the day before, the line to enter the cathedral had been wrapped around the side of the building, so my first stop today was to try and enter. I figured getting an earlier start would mean the line would be shorter, but it was actually longer, wrapping around two sides of the building! I resigned to stand in the line anyway, but luckily, it moved quickly, and I was inside within about ten minutes.

The interior of the building was not nearly as spectacular as the outside, and I told myself I didn’t need to climb the towers because I was planning to hike up to a view point later in the day.

I wandered to the northern part of the city and got lost in the pretty colors of the streets.

I was searching for the museum housing Michelangelo’s original David statue, but first, I came upon the art academy. Opportunity to pretend I’m an art student in Italy? Challenge accepted!

The main courtyard was lined with many marble and plaster statues. Several were missing arms, and most were missing penises. Ouch.

I walked in on what I assume was a classroom getting ready for lecture, found a very art-school-esque bathroom, and discovered a hallway covered in moody paintings. I was enjoying myself, to say the least.

I plopped down in the courtyard to read for a while as I sipped on another rocking vending machine cappuccino. I was wishing this one was a little sweeter, but then I got to the bottom and found a thin layer of sugar granules sludged in the cup. Ha. I guess I’ll stir before drinking next time.

Then I begrudgingly gave up the façade and headed over to the museum next door which housed the glorious David.

I admit he was pretty glorious.

There was also a room down the hall which housed a lot of plaster casts used to to make the marble sculptures, and there were videos lining the perimeter explaining the process. I liked this room.

Then I did some more walk, walk, walkin,’ all the way back past home and beyond. I stopped to grab some lasagna and wine to go, because I had plans for a picnic.

Here’s me trying to be cute while also forgetting I’m holding a garbage bag full of lasagna and a plastic cup full of wine. Ha. I scream ‘sophistication.’

My picnic location would be the Boboli Gardens behind the Palazzo Pitti. I discovered them after closing the day before and marked my calendar for a return trip. It was vast and very pretty, and I found a little spot by a fountain to enjoy my early dinner.

Then some exploration!

Time was running out, as the gardens closed at 4:30, so I hiked with a purpose up the long dirt path to the top of the hill, checking behind me every so often to see how far down the fountain was.

It was a long walk, but I made it to the top!

The views were, in fact, lovely, if a little bit obscured by the trees and the palace.

I was just making my way to try and find a better view around the trees when a very loud recording blasted from all directions on unseen speakers. First in Italian, and then in English, it announced that the gardens were closing and “we kindly ask all visitors to proceed to the near exit.” Ugh. I made a run for it down and up another hill, but as I crested the top, where I’m pretty sure I would have gotten a lovely view, I was blocked by a surly Italian man who gave one swift shake of his head and pointed me back the way I had come. Sad life, dude. I did manage to sneak around a teeny bit more to find some more pretty things before exiting. And this whole time, the same closing announcement blared around me. They were not messing around.

Defeated, though I was, I reminded myself that gelato is a great therapist, so I indulged in some chocolate and orange. Delightful. (Also, you can probably tell how tired I am by my deranged attempt at a smile.)

Back to the water, I wandered, with yet another view point on my list. Hey, I hadn’t paid to climb any towers, remember? I deserved this. And the hills trick my body into forgetting about all the gelato.

Then up, up, up, and wow. The view really was breathtaking.

It seemed half the city was up here, and the wide staircase leading from the upper viewpoint to the lower one was so packed with young picnickers that I had to practically jump over a few heads to get to the bottom.

Okay, soooo… It’s going to seem like I’m posting a lot of very similarly gorgeous pictures here, but just know that I took about a hundred, so you are really only getting a very small sample.

I found a little spot to sit, and I camped out there to watch the sunset.

For some reason, as I was watching the sunset up there with this gorgeous view and reflecting on the fact that I was leaving tomorrow and didn’t fall in love with Florence the way I imagined I would, I was stricken with a bout of homesickness. And then someone on that packed set of steps proposed to his girlfriend, to an uproar of cheers and applause, and I started crying. Ha! Public crying is the best. I miss my boyfriend more than that soup. I admit it.

The sunset really was gorgeous though, and I eventually got a grip on my emotions long enough to appreciate it before the chill set in from the lack of sun.

Even in the dark, the terrace displayed an abnormal amount of beauty. I realized I had yet to check out the bronze David statue, glued to the horizon as I had been for the past hour or more. The moon was doing a cool werewolf-calling thing behind him.

Then I jumped on a bus to take me down the hill and across the water before I did a last walk through Firenze.

Oh, and I wrote on the wall in my Airbnb. I’m not sure why I chose so many different fonts, but what’s done is done! In permanent ink!

That night, I had a spark of stupidity and decided to try sleeping with my windows closed. This caused me to overheat in the middle of the night and to be woken up by another tenant showering at 7am. I think the reason this hadn’t bothered me on previous mornings was because of the constant tiny trickle of noise from outside, whereas with the windows closed, everything in the house echoed through my tiny, silent room. Oh, well. Live and learn. For example, I learned I like sleeping with the windows open and I really really really want swing-open shutters and windows in my house some day. I kind of already knew about the latter, though. (;

Ciao/ best wishes,
-Lizzy-wa