Today we left Rome and made our way to Florence!

Checkout was at 10:00 a.m. At 9:47 a.m., our host was knocking on the door to see if we were still there. I guess he was ready for us to leave. Matt was still doing some last-minute packing—you know, the kind most people might do the night before.

He was getting ready to ditch an entire pair of shoes because he thought they wouldn’t fit in his bag. I told him to move aside while I channeled my inner Marie Kondo and handled the situation. The shoes will at least make it to Florence… for now.

Since we took a taxi from the airport to our Airbnb, this morning was our first attempt rolling our bags down the bumpy hills of Rome. Luckily, it was all downhill to the train station. All wheels are still intact.

The streets here are made of really, really old stone that has concaved over time like an old mattress. There are also gaps between the stones in certain areas, so I have to constantly watch where I’m stepping. At one point, I saw a mom walk out of a doorway onto a steep, lumpy road with a toddler in hand. I told Matt that toddler already has calves of steel.

I’m convinced when Italians visit the United States, they must feel like walking is too easy… or boring. Their everyday life is basically walking on expert mode, and anything less is probably underwhelming. But I don’t think any of the other cities could possibly be as lumpy and bumpy as Rome… except maybe Sorrento. But honestly, anything is possible.

We made it to Tiburtina Station just before our platform was announced, with enough time to grab a quick lunch and coffee. I’ve been ordering cappuccinos everywhere, but Matt was bold today and ordered a straight espresso. He’s so brave.

As we walked around the station, I had flashbacks to my arrival and departure here in 2010. I showed Matt the street I had walked back and forth on—lost—asking anyone and everyone where Via Lorenzo Il Magnifico was. I saw the green fencing where I found Monica, Lauren, and Janelle when they had just arrived. I even spotted the elevator where I had a full conversation with an older Italian man about heading home after my travels.

The station felt so much bigger this time, but that’s probably because I never ventured into the high-speed train section back then—only the commuter side. Not as impressive as Berlin, but still a fan. Cleaner and more organized than most airports I’ve been in.

We found our spot on the platform with plenty of time and positioned ourselves exactly where our train car would stop. Our train was slightly delayed, and they were using our stop to make up time—so we had a three-minute window between arrival and departure.

Did I mention we’re in business class?! Since we never do this with airplanes, I figured I’d splurge on the train. The price difference was minimal, so why not.

We arrived on time in Florence, dropped off our bags, and immediately started walking around to take in the city. Side note: our Airbnb is massive… for Europe. Honestly, too big for us, but we chose it for the location and the washing machine. I can definitely appreciate the space.

As we explored, I kept having flashbacks of walking these same streets with classmates and locals we had just met. It’s just as lively now, but with more market barkers trying to sell imported leather, mass-produced souvenirs, and prints of the city—some of which don’t even look remotely Italian.

Speaking of markets… I have never seen or smelled so much leather in one place. It’s everywhere. But like I’ve said before, if you have to call out to me to buy it, I probably don’t want it.

One of our options today was going inside the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore if the line wasn’t bad… it was its own spectacle. It wrapped a good distance around the building—probably because it’s free. I hate to say it, because the architecture is truly remarkable, but aside from the dome, its beauty is mostly external. I’ve seen enough videos to be okay missing the inside.

Our next option was the Cappelle Medicee, which my notes said was closed on Tuesdays. Apparently, that has changed—it’s now closed on Mondays. So we’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe I’ll give a little Medici backstory then too.

We grabbed lunch at Antico Ristorante Paoli 1827. I ordered a giant steak—Bistecca alla Fiorentina (Chianina). A locally raised, aged, massive steak. One of Florence’s staples. It was so tender and juicy it practically melted in my mouth. Okay… Matt might have had to help me finish it. Afterward, he looked at me and said, “Remember when I un-bigged my back?” I chuckled! But we still cleared the plate.

Naturally, we still got gelato after that. Today’s pick was Barroccino – L’ora del Gelato, which had a line out the door… right next to another gelateria with no line at all. Matt looked at me and asked if I wanted to go to the one without the line. I just looked at him. He quickly realized the answer. In hindsight, I’ve learned I will wait in line for good food—but not to go inside a giant church. But in my defense, Jesus is everywhere! Good food is not.

I asked the server where to find good-quality, real leather. He said there isn’t much left unless you go high-end like Gucci, but Santa Croce was a decent area to check out. So we went.

I visited several leather shops trying to find something that spoke to me—or at least something practical. Nothing really stood out. It’s also hard to tell what’s mass-produced versus genuine Italian leather, and I’m not convinced the labeling standards are as strict here.

Apparently, the place to go is Scuola del Cuoio. It was founded in 1950 by Franciscan friars at Santa Croce, along with local families, to teach leatherworking skills to war orphans after World War II. Today, it’s known as one of Florence’s most historic leather workshops, preserving traditional craftsmanship inside the monastery. It was also packed with tourists… and had very pretentious vibes. I felt a little invisible, but Matt bought a nice wallet.

In the evening, we went to one of the most hyped restaurants I’ve seen on YouTube: Osteria Pastella. I literally set a calendar reminder 30 days out to book this place and still only got a 9:00 p.m. reservation. They’re known for their cheese wheel, melty fire pasta situation… and yes, that’s exactly what I ordered—with truffles. I’ve been thinking about it for months. Matt ordered the lasagna with ragù and goat cheese. Holy. Moly—both were fire! I love how creative Italians are with food. They’re really doing it right, you know?

On the way home, I mentioned that the Florentine streets weren’t nearly as bad as Rome’s. Then I thought out loud, “I didn’t have any foot issues in Barcelona or Paris last year.” Matt immediately responded, “Yeah, because they actually decided to repave everything after the war.” Fair point.

We made one last stop at the Duomo that evening to admire it with fewer people around. It’s even more beautiful at night. There was a small, reverent crowd gathered—people quietly staring up, studying every detail, completely captivated.

It’s amazing what time, patience, and resources can create. What an incredible work of art!