Florence

Firenze! First stop on our Italian train adventure with my brother and sister-in-law. Everywhere you turned, it felt like stepping into a living Renaissance painting — only this one had espresso bars on every corner and the irresistible scent of fresh focaccia in the air.

The piazzas were alive — people spilling into the streets, musicians claiming cobbled corners as impromptu stages, and everywhere you looked, art just popped — a hidden fresco, a sculpted cherub, or a balcony daring you to look up.

The whole city was a masterpiece in motion.

The Ponte Vecchio looked like it had been plucked from a fairytale — a jumble of buildings stretched across the Arno, glinting gold in the evening sun. And those views from the top of the city? Breathtaking.

And yes — we tackled the famous sandwich shop: All’Antico Vinaio.

YES, we queued. YES, the line was outrageous. YES, our patience was tested. We took shifts like seasoned sandwich warriors. OH. MY. WORD. It was sooo worth it.

We devoured those sandwiches like we hadn’t eaten in days. And now they’ve opened in London — so bloody excited to relive that joy (without the one-hour wait… hopefully).

And let’s not forget the tiny, no-frills trattorias, hot, bubbling pizzas straight from the wood fire, and heavenly handmade pasta swimming in sauce that seemed like someone’s nonna had whispered centuries of secrets into it.

We braved the Duomo, surrounded by absolutely insane crowds — and yet, its impossibly intricate details made it an architectural wonder to behold.

This city has a knack for making me feel like both an artist and a dreamer — this is why I keep coming back.