Today was very… Florence.

We started at the Galleria dell’Accademia—home of that statue, David. And listen, I knew it would be impressive, but seeing it in person is a whole different experience. The detail, the size, the confidence… sir was just standing there like he knew he was the moment.

There were also tons of religious paintings lining the walls and a room filled almost entirely with statues and busts. I’m no artist, but I do have opinions—if it’s post-1799 and made of plaster, I’m not interested. If it’s carved from a single block of marble and sculpted to perfection, now I’m impressed. After standing there for a while taking it all in, Matt quietly goes, “the most important part of Italy isn’t the pope, it’s Michelangelo,” and honestly… in that moment, it didn’t even feel controversial. It just felt accurate.

After that, we grabbed lunch at All’Antico Vinaio—yes, the viral sandwich place. There are three locations right next to each other because of how popular it is, but we got there early enough that the line wasn’t too bad.

That said, I would have waited longer. It was absolutely worth it. Massive sandwiches, fresh ingredients, and the kind of meal that makes you immediately need a seat and a moment of reflection. This iconic street-food spot started right here in Florence and has somehow made its way to other parts of Italy—and even Los Angeles, which I just discovered and have never been to. I ordered the Golosa (mortadella, burrata, pesto, tomato), and Matt had the Beatrice (beef carpaccio, arugula, truffle… flavor on flavor). Naturally, we followed that with a coffee stop across the street and actually sat down to enjoy it for once.

Then came the Uffizi Gallery, which I can best describe as overwhelming. Beautiful, historic, important… but also a lot. Like sensory overload, but make it Renaissance. After making our way through most of the second floor, we finally Googled the “must-sees” and pivoted to just the essentials before our ankles gave out.

And naturally, after all that culture, we went back to the same coffee shop. Again. Round two of caffeination. Matt tried a Dolce Vita alcoholic coffee and immediately regretted his life choices.

At that point, we made plans to go see and cross the Ponte Vecchio… but somehow ended up back at Santa Croce near the Basilica. Again. Which turned into more leather shopping. And then even more leather shopping. I’m indecisive, so naturally I feel the need to evaluate every single option before committing. The bridge? Still pending. At some point, we went inside the church where Michelangelo is buried, walked around, took pictures, and had a quiet moment appreciating the history. So many important figures are buried there, and it’s so much easier to get into than the main cathedral. Also—stunning inside.

We attempted to go to the bridge again and, once again, got distracted—this time by another coffee stop because Matt needed redemption after the alcoholic coffee incident. So… still no bridge. Back to leather shopping we went, where a woman insisted I try on jackets. I entertained it. Tried on a few. Immediately realized they were not made for my body type—if it fit my arms, it was too big in the chest and didn’t show my waist. And without a waist… I’ve got nothing. Also, they were around €600, and I did not come prepared for that. Not to mention—I live in the desert. So, no jacket. But after what felt like a full-time job in leather browsing, I finally found a bag: high quality, practical, and something I could actually see myself using long-term. We bought the bag. Victory.

Now… surely it was time for the bridge? No. Matt’s umbrella was missing. So we retraced our steps—because no day is complete without a scavenger hunt. We checked leather shops, coffee shops, and churches. No luck. At this point, I might start putting AirTags on all of Matt’s belongings, or just fully commit him to tourist mode with a backpack. For now, he’s rocking a Euro chest fanny pack situation, which he actually pulls off.

Finally, we found the Ponte Vecchio, approaching it slowly and taking it all in. We crossed the bridge, hardly glancing at the flashy jewelry stores on either side, but feeling too accomplished to even bother stopping. We did it—finally made it to the south side of the river!

We had talked about skipping dinner and having a chill night to rest and catch up on laundry, but everything here activates your appetite—and skipping a meal in Italy just feels wrong. We originally planned to eat on the south side of the river, but we were also on a mission to find socks before the stores closed. So we turned back around and started searching. Foot Locker found, socks secured, and then—like fate—we stumbled upon another amazing restaurant with one table left. Clearly ours. I ordered a filet mignon that disappeared faster than I could take a picture. I’m usually a ribeye girl, but the smallest one available was 1.2 kg… and today was not the day.

And that was our Florence day: art, sandwiches, coffee (so much coffee), leather, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Also side note: Also I feel like I really need to elaborate on the duomo since I didn’t do enough yesterday … because it’s not just pretty—it’s absurdly impressive once you actually take it in. The marble alone is doing the most, and that dome? Whole main character. Fun fact: the Florence Cathedral was started in 1296, but the dome wasn’t finished until the 1400s by Filippo Brunelleschi, who somehow pulled it off without traditional scaffolding using a double-shell design that’s still considered an engineering masterpiece today.

Now, if you’re here for pasta, gelato, and pretty buildings… this might be a good place to exit stage left 😂 Because I’m about to take a sharp turn into “Jazzy overthinking history in a museum” territory, and it gets a little… interpretive.

I love me some Catholic people—but my mind really starts spinning in places like Italy. Let’s begin. Christianity technically started within the Jewish community. The Jews were the ones with front-row seats to Jesus’s life—his teachings, miracles, all of it. Meanwhile, the Romans were the ruling class. They controlled the region, and their main priority was staying in power.

So I can’t help but wonder…

Early on, Romans actually persecuted Christians—like under emperors Nero and Diocletian. But then, suddenly, things shift. In 313 AD, Emperor Constantine the Great legalizes Christianity, and not long after, it becomes deeply tied to the empire. By 380 AD, under Theodosius I, Christianity is basically the official religion.

That’s a pretty wild pivot.

So I can’t help but think—did Roman leaders see Christianity spreading like wildfire and decide, “Okay… we’re not stopping this, so let’s get in front of it”? Like, if you can’t beat it, lead it. Stay in power, control the narrative, shape how it’s practiced.

Because then you get what becomes the Roman Catholic Church—centered in Rome, structured, organized, and very much intertwined with political power. And yes, one of the earliest major splits in Christianity involved Eastern churches (what we now think of as Orthodox traditions) disagreeing with the West on theology and practices—including, at times, the role of images and icons. Some groups were very cautious about anything that could resemble “graven images,” while in the West, the Church eventually leaned all the way in.

And I mean all the way in.

Suddenly you’ve got commissions of sculpture after sculpture—Jesus, Mary, saints—full-on artistic movements funded by the Church. Meanwhile, Rome itself is still surrounded by the legacy of pagan culture—temples, statues, mythological figures like Apollo and Venus. You can literally walk from ancient pagan symbolism straight into Christian art in the same afternoon.

It’s… a lot.

So yeah, part of me wonders—if I were a Roman ruler watching this new belief system spread, would I just… adopt it publicly, shape it, maybe even add layers of structure, rules, and hierarchy to keep control? Maybe make myself the gatekeeper?

And I say all of this as reflection, not criticism. I genuinely believe the hearts of modern-day Catholic Christians are pure.

But going from the level of chaos and immorality of some Roman rulers around Jesus’s time… to this massive, structured religious institution tied to art, power, and influence?

It raises questions.

And don’t even get me started on the nudity in Christian art. We know David wasn’t just casually standing there naked, deep in thought about taking down Goliath.

Okay, okay—I digress.

But the conspiracy potential? It’s there. And it gets louder with every museum.