What You Need to Know Before Visiting Florence: My Honest Guide

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The Florence of my Dreams

Rich and sumptuous, heady and chaotic, full of charm and abrasive crowds. I can’t deny I had an image of Florence in my mind, wrought by film after film, novel after novel, flaunting its charms. I had to see it, one day. It was everything I imagined Italy to be, the one place I had always determined to see. However, unlike my beloved Venice, the Florence of reality did not immediately charm me. It had to cajole, beg, win me over, and it did, by degrees.

This is no “what to do in Florence” or “ten hidden gems of Florence” guide, god knows there must be hundreds of those. This is my honest account of what happens when you visit a city you have dreamed of visiting for years and the agonising clash of expectation versus reality.

The Reality

I tugged my suitcase behind me over the jagged pavement slabs, attempting to weave through the clogged streets between the station and the Duomo. My hotel was on the other side of that fantastical church but I was a walker, I could handle a 20 minute walk, no problem. The fly in the ointment was the sheer volume of people thick and heaving around the exquisite walls of the Duomo. I was instantly repulsed, that’s the truth. The beautiful monument was overshadowed by the chaos. Perhaps this is not the way to enter Florence, perhaps I did it wrong. After a night in peaceful Bergamo, I was unprepared for this onslaught of humans. Why did they have to be here? Who told them to come? I was one of them and I hated them.

This was Florence in late October, I shuddered to think what it would be like in the summer months. I soon learnt that the area around the Duomo was a thoroughfare, the place we all passed through to get to other places. The place people queued to enter the church, the place people craned their necks to get pictures. One early morning as I headed to the train station I took some photos in the blissful quiet (and had to hurry on so I didn’t miss my train). By nine thirty the place would be heaving and unbearable.

Day One: A Tug of Love

My first morning I shuffled round the Piazza della Repubblica (a tight alleyway of crowds had been formed by fencing around the copy of the statue of David). I was running late for my slot for the Uffizi Gallery and confused by all the various entrances, ticket offices and different meeting points.

It was a hectic way to start my visit and I cursed myself for booking anything, anything at all. All I wanted was to be far, far away from there. Once inside, after some more shuffling, I was finally released into the gallery to crane my neck with the other willing victims. Filled with famous pieces of art you feel compelled to enjoy, to appreciate it, whether you truly do or not. This is not to say that I don’t enjoy or appreciate art, I often do, however the lens by which I view it is so often impacted by my mood, the vastness of the museum or gallery, the amount of people there and what type of art it is.

The Uffizi Gallery is so renowned, so important, that it creates a pressure or tension in you that you must adore it. A little like Florence itself. I actually found myself thinking, admitting, that most of it wasn’t my favourite type of art (speaking as a casual enjoyer of art with zero knowledge) and that unsettled me, being that it is one of the most special places for art in the world.

As usual I tried to allow myself to only view a percentage of the gallery and not force myself to linger any more than I wanted to. I did enjoy it more when I slowed down and took several breathers on the benches dotted around the gallery. I chose to mainly linger over the one piece I wanted to see, Botticelli’s Venus. Afterwards, I decided to have an indulgent bellini on the terrace in a bid to aid relaxation.

The Call of the Sandwich

Lunchtime in the streets around All’Antico Vinaio, the infamous panini shop, did not endear me further to Florence. It was rammed, all for a certain sandwich. I often read blogs about the places I visit and fill my itinerary with these must see, must eat at places, and yet I’d never stuck All’Antico Vinaio firmly on my list. Now I knew why. As much as I enjoy grabbing a takeaway bite to eat in a charming square I found myself craving sit down meals in Florence just to get some quiet time.

Instead of sampling those catnip-like sandwiches I opted to duck into the pizza restaurant across the street. Thrumming with the noise from the street outside and with it’s own up tempo music Pizza Napoli 1995 was not an obviously relaxing spot but actually I found the vibe to be a nice mix of lively and chilled. At least I wasn’t queuing! The service was great and the pizza delicious, I did wonder if the heart shaped dough was Florence’s sneaky bid to win me over…

Finding my Place

After lunch I had no firm plans so I found some quiet streets to wander and stumbled upon a shop so beautiful and serene, I felt my tension melting away. The scent was divine and it was filled with so many gorgeous things. I was sorely tempted to buy something but the price tags were not small and my suitcase was. Acqua Flora was a feast for the senses. More proof that a quiet wander will provide more pleasure than a must-see attraction ever will.

This set the tone for the afternoon as I ambled along to Piazza Santa Croce and immediately thought this will be my square. There’s always a square, the place you take your takeaway pizza, the place you sit and read, people watch and soak up the atmosphere. The place you simply exist. Headed up by the stunning Santa Croce church, the piazza is large and relatively quiet, often with young boys kicking a football around and benches framing the edges. I advise you to make a beeline straight here whenever possible.

Enter the church and take in the tombs of some of Italy’s most influential figures, like Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and Galileo, and enjoy a few minutes in the peaceful gardens outside. You do have to pay to go in but I think considering the significance of the people buried there it is a worthwhile stop.

The Rooftop Terrace

One of my biggest Florence recommendations is to book yourself a hotel with a rooftop terrace. It doesn’t have to have a view of the Duomo but it certainly helps make you feel like you have a slice of Florence that is just yours, you’re not sharing that view with a hundred other people every ten seconds you stand there.

So many of my favourite moments involved nothing more than sitting on my hotel’s terrace, reading a book, writing, adding to my Instagram stories, staring at the rooftops, it was my haven amongst the chaos. It was a simple terrace, small, with brisk, rickety wooden tables and chairs but the views… rooftops as far as the eye can see and the domed cap of Florence twinkling at you every time you pop your head up.

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Day Two: Escape

I skipped out of town for the day and headed to Siena, finally getting a taste of the Duomo at half seven in the morning. An actually okay place to be for more than two seconds.

Weirdly though I didn’t fall for Siena either, was there something in the air? Something wrong with me? How could I not love these Tuscan beauties, stalwarts of the tourist trail? Another reminder that travel is never what you expect, in fact expectations are the enemy of travel. Like relationships, a place can never be the image you have stored up in your head. Venice being the one and only exception, it’s so hyped that my expectations were lowered and the whole thing came out the other side again. Plus it’s just magical and no-one can convince me otherwise.

It was a cloudy day and I was tired – could this be the reason Siena struggled to satisfy me? You never know what will colour your experience. It wasn’t as if I disliked Siena, I just wasn’t bowled over by it.

I did have some highlights:

• The Salvador Dali Exhibit: I missed one in Brugge so I simply couldn’t pass it by. I’ve always been intrigued by him, I can’t resist a little weirdness. The gallery was small enough to wander round without tiring and had lots of weird and wonderful to make you pull faces and smile.
• The Cathedral: If you visit one place in Siena it has to be the Cathedral. The Opi Ticket includes this and more but this was the best part. It has one the most beautiful interiors I’ve ever seen. with so many little treasures to draw the eye. The ceiling looks like a night sky studded with stars, I couldn’t stop gazing at it. (A stiff neck is guaranteed). I have a tendency to be underwhelmed by church interiors at times but this is one to put on the must-see list.

The Facciatone Viewpoint

As part of the Opi Ticket you have the opportunity to sneak up to one of the best viewpoints in Siena. As part of this honest account I want to admit that whilst the views are fantastic, the Facciatone scores low on actual experience points.

Finding the right place to be takes a little wandering around different levels, particularly if you’re just interested in the viewpoint part as I was. When you do find it the clue is normally in the queue. I was wondering why the queue was taking so long but when my turn came I soon realised why.

You go up in small groups, logistically this is the best way to do it so you can’t exactly blame the organisation. After climbing a small, spiral staircase (naturally) the guide rattled something off in Italian, which despite many hours and daily streaks of Duolingo I didn’t catch a word of. It soon became clear it went something along the lines of hurry up and stick together as a group. Now I’m not the fastest person, at anything, and by the time I’d snapped a few photos and wanted to take a few moments to actually enjoy the view, we were ushered along again. Prego signori!

It turned out there was another level and another, even more claustrophobic staircase to climb. Again there really wasn’t enough time to enjoy the view. I totally understood why they had to keep it moving, after all I’d stood waiting in the queue for the other group to come down, but it just didn’t make it the best experience ever.

I think one of the reasons I didn’t love Siena is that I could never quite get my bearings, I couldn’t work out where I should go for the best views or… I don’t know I just had that feeling of wandering in circles at times. Also the Piazza del Campo is impressive but in my eyes not that pretty. I am a picky lady when it comes to pretty squares and something about it just didn’t grab me.

Day Three: Sunset Magic

After a few cocktails the night before I opted to spend most of my morning on my hotel terrace. Taking time to relax when travelling is so important, especially if you’re someone who is easily overloaded, as I am. The terrace was already my great love of Florence, my little rectangle of harmony above the rooftops. I wondered if I ought to get out and explore more, but I knew I was happy there, I had to listen to my gut.

I wanted to really make my last day wonderful, it was to be a day of simple pleasures, wandering around the streets, exploring pretty gardens and taking in the best views in Florence. I was willing Florence on to make a great final impression on me.

The Boboli Gardens

If anywhere could call to my soul it would be a beautiful garden. I’d had the Boboli gardens on my list right from the start. It was a surprisingly warm day in late October and my cardigan swung from my fingers as I wandered through the sweeping gardens. I even found a place to sit and read for awhile. The highlight of the gardens was the Gentleman’s Pavilion, a heavenly terrace full of flowers and views over the surrounding countryside. I was enchanted, and so Florence nibbled away at another piece of my heart.

It was a day of sweetness, from the caramel panna cotta at Trattoria Boboli and the Gelato from Cantina del Gelato to the beautiful flowers of the pavilion.

To finish Florence had one last trick up it’s sleeve, one last roll of the die.

Piazzale Michelangelo

I walked and walked, my feet a little tired after four days of travel, lips still tingling from cold gelato. Arms aching from carrying my bag, my book, my cardigan, around all afternoon. Travel is strange in that as you stay in a place you get more tired and more at peace. You get to know it, to understand it’s quirks and flows, you know the streets leading to your hotel. You are exhausted and in love.

Finally I reached Giardino delle Rose and Piazzale Michelangelo with plenty of time to go before sunset and a sweet glow of late afternoon autumnal sun on my shoulders. The rose garden is a quiet place, with a few groups sitting with wine, enjoying the sunshine. It’s well serviced with bars and toilets.

After a few minutes sat reading in the garden and relaxing I headed up to the big viewpoint, Piazzale Michelangelo. Busy, with lots of people sat on the steps and lining the walls, but with a relaxed air. The square is large enough to make a turn about and feel unencumbered by the crowds. It’s also fairly easy to grab a spot somewhere along the walls as people come and go. Someone thrums a guitar on the steps as the sun edges lower in the sky.

It is one of those spots where even amongst the clamour of the crowds, you are glad, happy to be there. You are part of a moment, sharing the sunset together. I will say that this was possibly my favourite crowded viewpoint. The energy was so relaxed, so mellow, it didn’t matter that there was so many people.

Final Night Yearnings

I walked back along the river and across the bridge as dusk fell and lights started to twinkle around me. It was my last night and I had that urge to gaze at every last detail, to stuff as much of Florence into my eyeballs. I was overwhelmed with sadness that I was leaving. How could I have not adored this beautiful place right from the start? Florence had worked it’s magic on me and I understood why the pull is so strong to come here. I couldn’t have missed it!

I hope reading this gives you a little dose of reality before you head to Florence, expecting a fairytale. It is a fairytale, only it’s everyone’s fairytale, you have to be prepared to share.

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