When I was young, I dreamed of being the kind of person who traveled. Often.
And now I am.
I can tell because I went to Florence for five days last week with my son.
I landed on Thursday the 5th and took a taxi to the small apartment we rented. I dropped my things and went straight to the grocery store for coffee, milk, eggs, bread, salami, and cheese. Though it was tempting to sleep, I didn’t. Instead, I walked around the corner to Piazza Santa Croce and got my bearings. Then my son arrived from Scotland. We went to a 9:45 PM dinner, and we were off!
The next day we went to L’Accademia to see Michelangelo’s David. Then we roamed the streets looking for lunch, eventually stopping to get fried fish from Fratelli di Mare. By then, we realized something was going on.
January 6th is Epiphany, one of the most important holidays in the Catholic calendar. It was an extremely beautiful, sunny day, and the citizens of Florence filled the streets. By the time we finished lunch, we made our way to the Arno and walked up to Piazza Michelangelo with what felt like thousands of other people. We arrived just in time to see the sun setting over the city, and we stayed there for a while taking in the festival atmosphere, watching the sky grow dark, enjoying the view.
The next day the city felt even busier. We woke late, went to the Uffizi midday, and barely had space to turn around. I hadn’t been there in at least 15 years, but what struck me this time was that every room contains at least one, if not multiple, iconic works of art. Giotto, Botticelli, Pisaro - it’s all there - but on that day, it was a bit hard to see anything. If you’ve ever been to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, it was that crowded. In every room.
We returned to the apartment, showered, and went for an early dinner at Brandolino, a restaurant we saw when we were eating our lunch from Fratelli di Mare. The owner could not have been more lovely, the food delicious. The staff had worked continuously since December 26th, and he was excited to spend the following day with his three year old son. When we finished dinner, we walked to Giardino della Fortezza to ride the Ferris wheel leftover from the Christmas markets. I usually don’t like Ferris wheels, but the thrill of seeing the Duomo from the top was too much to pass up. Then we went home.
On Sunday the 8th, we woke early and took a regional train to Faenza to the International Ceramic Museum. We somehow didn’t follow the suggested itinerary, so we spent quite a while viewing the ancient collection before we got to the amazing pieces that reflect all of the modern work that the museum collects as part of its annual competition for ceramic artists. We planned to take a 6:21 train home, but except for the museum, the entire city was closed. So we went back to Florence at 4:15, picked up sandwiches from All’Antico Vinaio, and went home to watch a movie.
On Monday, we climbed the steps of the Duomo (I didn’t really know how scared of heights my son was!), then went to the Duomo museum (new since the last time I was there), went to the Bargello to see Donatello’s David, ate lunch at Cantinetta Antinori, then went to the Olafur Eliasson installation at the Palazzo Strozzi. Then we rested for an hour and went to a (so fun!) pasta making class where we made our own tagliatelle, ravioli, and drank delicious wine.
Tuesday the 10th, we came home. When I consider what I’m grateful for, one of the best parts of my life beyond family and health is being able to jump on a plane and go.
It takes practice. Being uncomfortable. Trying new things. Common sense. Flexibility.
I’m better at some of those things than others.
But I’m still already planning my next trip.
So lovely that you're doing this together with your son! 🥰
Reminds me of the one time I went to Crete with my dad when I was 15, cause we both loved ancient civilisations and archaeology. I hope my kids would want to travel with me when they're adults as well.