Some days in Florence don’t need a plan.
We started the morning the way all good Florentine mornings should begin: a walk to our favorite caffè, Caffè Sole, tucked into our old neighborhood waiting for us to come home. The order never changes—due cappuccini e due cornetti. No discussion required. Libera knows our order! Some traditions don’t need improving.
From there, I headed off to Italian class at Società Dante Alighieri. Great teacher, great review, and—miracle of miracles—I actually understood most of what was happening. There is hope for me yet. I walked back to the apartment feeling mildly triumphant, which in language learning counts as a major win.

Tom and I met up and did what we do best: set out to “just walk a bit” and then completely lose track of distance and time. We rambled our way into looking for an old favorite restaurant in San Niccolò (unsuccessful), then climbed up to Piazzale Michelangelo and on to San Miniato al Monte—my absolute favorite church in Florence. The views never get old. No matter how many times you’ve seen that skyline, it still manages to stop you mid-sentence.

We grabbed a light lunch at La Loggia at Piazzale Michelangelo, lingering just long enough to remind ourselves how lucky we are to call this familiar. Then we started down Viale dei Colli, one of those walks that feels like a reward. Tall trees, elegant villas, and postcard views peeking through at every turn.

Back into the city through Porta Romana, winding through the streets of the Oltrarno, past Palazzo Pitti, and eventually—finally—home. Nine miles later, we poured a glass of wine, kicked off our shoes, and declared the day officially fabulous!
Dinner was at home: lemon pesto chicken. Delicious, but slightly adventurous given that our otherwise gorgeous apartment has a kitchen best described as theoretical. We always say, “No one comes to Florence to cook in their Airbnb apartment,” and yet… here we are, making it work.
Tired legs, full hearts, and the kind of day that reminds us how truly lucky we are.
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