5 Days In Florence

We spent 5 days in Florence and honestly, it took a while to win me over. If I ever go back I would definitely do things differently.  I’d heard so much about it—the Renaissance capital, the birthplace of modern Italian, the home of Michelangelo’s David and Brunelleschi’s dome—but I’ll be honest, my first few hours in the city were spent navigating crowds, walking single file on narrow cobbleston sidewalks, feeling frenzied, rushed and hurried.  Cars zipping by on streets that did not seem big enough for them and wondering how I would ever drive my rental in this city.  What had  I had walked into. The entire family was so overwhelmed from getting to the train station to the hotel with luggage that they all just plopped in their rooms and ordered room service.  I alone decided to venture out and was able to find a lovely spot for my first dinner in Florence.

But that’s the thing about Florence. It doesn’t try to impress you with flash or energy. It invites you to slow down. To look up. To pay attention. Even while everyone around you seems to be walk/running, you have to find your pace and take it in.

Walking through the historic center feels like entering a different century. The architecture is attention-grabbing, with detailed stonework, carved saints, and brick towers that still seem to watch over the city. There’s a familiarity to it, even if you’ve never been before.  It’s history, the story of this Old World Italian city that used to be the capital of Italy long ago. But what I didn’t expect was how small it all felt. Florence is compact. So many people in a very, very small space.  There are very few taxis, not many buses and no metro to get to city center and back.  You have to walk.  We definitely could do it, but not everyone could.   It was a 45-minute walk from our Hotel to Piazza Michelangelo, and many steps.  While You don’t need a car in the city, you do need good walking shoes and persons with disabilities beware, not the friendliest spots for the handicapped. You barely need a map after a day and. Everything seemed within reach once we got used to Florence.  As our adventurous spirits began to rise on our trip, we found that around every turn there is pasta, piazza, steak, a church, another church, a museum and shopping.  Block after block offering another opportunity to pause and appreciate what’s in front of you.

By pausing and going at a slower pace, I  learned that there’s a secret passageway in this city—the Vasari Corridor—that runs right above the Ponte Vecchio, linking the Uffizi Gallery to the Pitti Palace. It was built so the Medici family could walk from home to office without being seen. And that little fact somehow sums up Florence for me: there’s always something more behind the walls, something private, something historical, something brilliant.

Not everyone loves it here. I’ve heard plenty of travelers say Florence didn’t live up to the hype. They felt suffocated by the crowds, annoyed by the graffiti and trash or underwhelmed by the food of people near the main attractions. I understand that. If you stick to the beaten path, Florence can feel more like an open-air museum than a living city. Sometimes the service is slower than slow. Sometimes restaurants close without warning. And yes, the cover charges on meals and the ticket prices for museums can make you feel like you’re leaking euros by the hour.  And don’t forget to keep Euros on hand for the toilletes.  We made that mistake way too many times.

But when you slow down, and when you leave the main square and walk toward Sant’Ambrogio or cross the Arno into the Oltrarno neighborhoods—things shift. You’ll find trattorias with handwritten menus, family-run bakeries selling schiacciata hot from the oven, and artisans still working leather and metal in the back rooms of little shops. Florence is more than the Duomo and the Uffizi. It’s more than the postcards.  (Although I did get some damn good postcard photos from the Piazza Michangelo) 

Over time, I started to see how much I didn’t know about this place. The piano was invented here, Dante and Michaelangelo are buried here.  There are 2 incorruptible saints on display here.  And wow, do the people of Florence love their heffers.  And of course, gelato, as we know it today, traces its roots back to a Florentine architect and cook. And thanks to Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, the Tuscan dialect became the foundation for modern Italian. That means the Italian you hear today started right here on these streets.

One of my favorite memories was getting up at 5:30 and walking across the river, where I climbed to Piazzale Michelangelo. The streets were quiet and fairly empty.  There was a calm, ancient type of quite as the morning began.  It was a bit of a hike, but if you time it right, you’ll get a view of the entire city at during the beautiful early morning sun.  Pro-tip.  No one is there at 6 am.  It was so quiet and peaceful. The Duomo rising above the rooftops; the Arno cutting through the middle like a silk ribbon. I stood there a long time. It was the moment that made me understand why people fall in love with Florence.

There are things I wish I’d known earlier—like how crucial it is to reserve museum tickets in advance, especially for the Uffizi and Accademia. Or how dinner often doesn’t start until 7:30 or 8:00,. Or how service can be slower than I’m used to back home.  Be sure to plan extra time for meals.   It is not because they’re being rude, but because the meal is meant to be experienced, not rushed.

I’ve also learned that some of the best food isn’t anywhere near the Duomo. You’ll find more authentic meals if you’re willing to wander a little. And yes, there’s a small fee at most restaurants called a coperto. That’s normal here. Tipping isn’t expected, but a few euros for good service is always appreciated.

It’s easy to over-plan in a city like Florence. There’s so much to see. So much you’re told not to miss. But the moments I remember most weren’t the guided tours or the famous works of art. They were the slow sips of espresso in a side-street café with my son, and the quite moments of prayer in a secluded corner of a church I have never heard of before.. The sound of church bells echoing through empty morning streets was mystical.

Florence didn’t wow me at first. It wasn’t loud about its beauty. It took some time. But by the end of my trip, it had quietly won me over. This city rewards patience and curiosity. And if you let it, Florence will stay with you—not in loud, flashy memories, but in subtle ways that linger long after you’ve gone.