It was dark when I arrived in Pisa. I met my friend in the grand old apartment we had booked for the night. The elderly, Russian housekeeper had this amazing app that allowed her to speak in Russian into her phone and the device translated her words to English. The following morning we made our way to the Piazza Dei Miracoli – home of Pisa Cathedral and its iconic leaning tower. Thanks to the pandemic the crowds were still rather sparse. Certainly more numerous than Venice during my visit the previous year, but nothing like the olden days. We climbed the tower under the watchful eye of the guides. It was slightly discombobulating as you could sense that you were climbing at an angle. The views were spectacular.

After visiting the Cathedral and the Battisteria and the famous gates, we made our way to the train station to board our chariot to Siena – a two hour journey.

Siena is an absolute gem of a town. With its maze of winding streets and laneways, this medieval city is a world heritage site in its entirety. Our apartment just outside the old city gates (Porta Pispini) was overlooking a green valley. The views were splendid. Our first night ended in a cocktail bar on a winding street where the barman wanted to know about Dublin as his friend lives there. The next day, after our lovely landlady Lucia gave is to a lift to the station, a torturous effort followed to locate the Left Luggage office in Siena station (hint – it’s in the newsagent’s). We visited the grand Piazza del Campo; the Mangia Tower and the stupefying Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta – as gaudy as I could have hoped for. We did the roof climb in this stupendous building When the heavens open and the torrential rain began we sheltered beneath the awnings in the main square. It was disappointing to be leaving Siena after only twenty four hours. If I’d known how beautiful it was I’d have booked for longer. My only (very minor) complaint is the number of steps. It’s a tiny quibble but 5 hours descending and ascending cobbled streets is tiring. Siena reminds me of Venice without canals. An amazing city.

Late in the afternoon we took a bus to the station and headed to the capital of Tuscany and the birthplace of the Renaissance – Florence. We were staying on the top floor of a 16th century city centre house, beside the Uffizi Gallery. On our first night we crossed the Ponte Vecchio bridge to the Trattoria La Casalinga. This is fictional serial killer, Hannibal Lecter’s favourite restaurant in Florence. We washed our pasta down with a nice Chianti. I don’t like liver however, and I was conscious of how ridiculous I’d look, so I didn’t ask for it.

On our first full day, we decided to chance our arms getting into the Uffizi Gallery – probably the world’s most famous Renaissance Art Gallery featuring pieces by DaVinci; Michelangelo; Raphael; Titian and more. The crowds milling outside looked alarming. We decided that we would wait only for thirty minutes. After a ten minute wait, we were in. After three hours I had to sit down. I love visiting art galleries but three hours is my limit. After that length of time, I get slightly overwhelmed. After a leisurely lunch, we walked to the Accademia Gallery. Seeing the statue of David was on my list of sights to see. The sign outside read that all slots into the Gallery were sold out for the day. Deciding to ignore that advice we walked to the ticket sales office, where we purchased a pair of tickets for entrance in five minutes. I hardly need to tell you that I was impressed by the David statue. He was a talented lad that Michelangelo Buonarotti.

What was slightly intimidating about Florence was just the sheer volume of history; art and architecture in such a confined space. Every second building was a museum (and not just any old museum, but probably one of the world’s best). Rome is bigger of course, but as a vast city it involves transit to get to all the sights. In Florence they were just … there.

To escape the bustle we booked a Sunday wine-tasting trip to the Chianti region. As we were being picked up at 2pm, we spent the morning wandering the Medici’s back garden. The Boboli Gardens behind the Medici Palace are one of Europe’s oldest and most beautiful landscaped gardens. Our tour guide to Chianti was a sprightly 80-something named Rosa. Born in Manchester she had spent the last thirty years as a tour guide in Tuscany. I was impressed with her knowledge of the region. We visited a working winery in the Tuscan hills (with generous time to sample the produce) and later a more formal wine-tasting with an Arabic sommelier who advised us what wines and meats to pair with the samples we were glugging.

Rosa had slipped us her card and we had arranged to meet her the next day – she was bringing us on an off-book tour of Florence. The main highlight of the day was the guided tour of the Basilica of Santa Croce – the burial placed of Machiavelli; Michelangelo; Dante; Rossini; and Galileo among others. Rosa told us that most visitors to Florence make the mistake of visiting the Duomo over this basilica. The Duomo is a spectacular building for sure, but the art on the walls of the interior tend to be replicas, with the originals moved to museums. This Basilica was all original. An astonishing place.

We bid Rosa farewell (although she has stayed in touch) and bid our farewell to Florence. Our last night was spent in a grim, modern suburb of Pisa. The advantage was the three minute walk to the airport. With a 5am start, I wasn’t prepared to spend an hour trying to decipher how to get to the airport at that appalling hour. Our last night was spent eating Chinese food in Pisa town (I am not criticising Italian food – it’s just that after five nights of it, I was keen to go east for dinner).

I am still trying to process the trip to Italy. We packed a lot of activities into our week in Tuscany. The feeling remains that we’ve only touched the surface. That’s one of the nicer things about Italy though. Another dozen visits to this glorious country, and I’ll still only have touched the surface.