After Rome, we boarded our chartered bus bound for Tuscany. Once there, we transferred to a local bus that carried us onward to Pisa. From the drop-off point, we walked toward the entrance of the old town, where souvenir stalls lined the streets like a welcoming committee of tourist temptation.
Do yourself a favor and pick up one of those iconic leaning mugs, or better yet, a leaning shot glass. You won’t find them anywhere else, and they make a perfect gag gift. After all, it’s not every day you get to drink from a shot glass that looks perpetually tipsy. 🍸
top of the leaning tower of pisa
the narrow stairs you had to
climb
As you approach the entrance, have your camera ready. The arched gateway makes a perfect natural frame for the Leaning Tower of Pisa, assuming, of course, you get lucky and catch a brief, miraculous moment when no one is blocking the arch. Patience is key. Once you’ve captured your shot, head inside.
At the time of our visit, the Leaning Tower of Pisa had reopened to the public, but access was tightly controlled: only 20 people are allowed in at a time, for 30-minute intervals. If you choose to make the climb (as the hubby-boyfriend-then once did), brace yourself for 294 tight, spiraling steps. The ascent is both a workout and a bit of a head-spinner, yet entirely worth it for those inclined to trace Galileo Galilei’s footsteps (literrally), one tilted step at a time. It’s science, sweat, and history bundled into one gloriously crooked staircase, an experience my physicist of a husband was absolutely adamant about checking off his list.
Tickets can be purchased in advance and must be booked at least 16 days, but no more than 45 days, before your visit through www.opapisa.it, or you can buy them in person at the box office in Piazza dei Miracoli. Advance tickets cost €17 and guarantee a specific entry time. Tickets bought at the box office are €15, but availability to climb the tower that day is not guaranteed.
One important thing to note: all bags must be checked before entering. That includes backpacks, umbrellas, and yes, even the tiniest purse. Bag deposit is located along the north side of Piazza dei Miracoli. The good news? Cameras are allowed, so you won’t miss documenting your slightly tilted triumph.
bells inside the leaning tower of pisa
view from the top of the Tower of Pisa
Trivia: It was in the Tower of Pisa that Galileo dropped two balls (of different masses) to demonstrate that their time of descent was independent of their mass (more here).
FLORENCE.
Home of Michael Angelo and Leonardo Da Vinci.
Well almost.
When we first entered the city the first thing that we saw was a church called Basilica of Santa Croce. It was in the middle of what looks to me is a piazza (which looks empty that time). If you walk away from the Basilica you will find stores after stores selling leather goods (jackets, pants, gloves, etc). Welcome to Florence! The leather goods supplier!
If you walk further and proceed to the first street to your left (if your back is on the Basilica of Santa Croce) that will lead you to where the more exciting part is!
the intricate facade of piazza del duomo
Florence is like a huge outdoor museum. With huge sculptures all over the place. And their Piazza del Duomo? It’s mammoth in scale, and there’s no denying the intricacy of its details, inside and out. Every angle feels intentional, every surface a testament to craftsmanship. As someone who loves architecture, both old and new, a place like this genuinely thrills me. That said, even if architecture isn’t usually your thing, I’m convinced you’ll still find Piazza del Duomo deeply fascinating. Some places just command your attention, whether you planned on giving it or not. Old stones have that effect.
Facing Piazza del Duomo is the Baptistery of St. John, home to the famous bronze doors known as the Gates of Paradise. The name feels perfectly fitting, if there were ever an entrance meant to usher you toward something divine, this would be it.
Overall, I truly loved the atmosphere in Florence. I’m not sure whether that calm charm was because we visited in December, during the off-peak season, or because not enough tourists fully appreciate just how extraordinary this city is. Either way, the experience felt unhurried and intimate. This is especially true for anyone interested in sculpture, my sister-in-law, for instance (my husband’s sister), would be absolutely captivated. In fact, we’re already considering a return trip, just so we can bring her along.
Some cities impress you. Florence quietly convinces you to come back.
If you're looking for a good walking tour for Florence try this.
note: all photos are from yours truly...please be respectful and do not use without permission..
It was year 2010, in December, when I finally saved enough to go to Europe.
I invited my husband (then my boyfriend) to come along, but he hesitated. Between saving up to replace his roof and not wanting to be away from his dog for that long, the timing didn’t quite cooperate. That said, it never once slowed me down.
I’d been obsessing over Europe for as long as I could remember, pouring over dog-eared copies of Rick Steves on a Shoestring, googling endlessly, plotting routes, crunching budgets, mapping logistics, the whole nine yards. I did it with much enthusiasm it was like my full-time job. So, yes, with or without a travel companion, I was going.
I never had problems travelling solo anyway. Been doing it even back when I was still in the Philippines, and so I booked my trip. He eventually changed his mind (between you and me, I think he's worried I'll leave him for an Italian hunk, that's why he changed his mind, LOL) and booked the same tour I am going a month later, but by then, my Europe plans were already sealed, stamped, and very much in motion.
The tour I got was for 16 days and it would go to UK, Belgium, Luxembourg, Austria, France, Italy, Switzerland, Monaco, and Liechtenstein but, as the title hinted, what I'll be sharing is just about Italy. Atleast for now. The cities we went to in Italy were Venice, Assisi, Rome, Pisa, Florence.
VENICE.
I'm fascinated with Italy. Their language, their food, their history, their architecture, their people, their cappuccino and tiramisu!
gondola
The first city in Italy I saw was Venice. The first time I laid my eyes on that city, seeing the gondolas and canals and tiny bridges, I was just mesmerized. Even though San Marco was flooded when we arrived, it didn’t dampen my spirits one bit. All I could think was: Someone pinch me, I’m in Venice!
the dock where we got our gondola ride
Our first stop was a glass-blowing workshop with a live demonstration, and I’ll be honest, I was skeptical. The moment I realized it was a store, I knew there would be some selling involved. It immediately transported me back to a Hong Kong tour where a “demo” at a tea or jade shop turned into a one-hour hostage situation. I’m convinced we wouldn’t have been released if not a single tourist bought anything.
For context, that was my very first international trip, Hong Kong and Shenzhen, and I was young, naïve, and completely unprepared. I digress.
To my surprise, I actually enjoyed the demonstration. It was fascinating to watch. I’ve been drawn to pottery ever since I saw Ghost (yes, cheesy, I know), and there’s something mesmerizing about shaping material with your bare hands. Maybe it’s because I never really got to play with Play-Doh as a kid, who knows.
Glass blowing, though, is pottery’s cooler, slightly more dangerous cousin, and I wouldn’t mind trying it someday. Uhm. Maybe.
And yes, my instincts were right, the hidden agenda was absolutely to tempt us into buying their merchandise, which was predictably expensive. But credit where credit is due: the demo was genuinely interesting, and for that alone, I’ll give them a pass.
glass blowing in Venice
Trivia:
Do you know that red glass (bright red, ruby red) is the most expensive? Do you know why? Because the metal that produces some of the red color in the glass is gold. That's the only thing I remembered from the demo so I just googled how the other colors can be produced.
We then headed out to wander the streets of Venice. As I mentioned earlier, the city was flooded that day after a bout of rain, so long, interconnected wooden platforms snaked through the streets all the way to St. Mark’s Square, sparing pedestrians from soaked shoes.
Some people (almost certainly fellow tourists) opted for a more improvised solution, slipping yellow trash bags over their shoes and carrying on as if this were perfectly normal.
Flooding, after all, isn’t exactly a rare event in Venice. The city has been slowly sinking for centuries, while the sea, quite rudely, continues to rise.
Piazza San Marco when flooding
Of course, when in Venice, one mustn’t skip the gondola ride. It’s practically a rule, like going to New York City and not seeing the Statue of Liberty. Besides… who knows how long Venice will stay afloat (shhh, let’s not dwell on that), so to gondola we go!
Our gondola ride began near San Marco. There were five of us aboard. My husband (boyfriend at the time) and I claimed the best seat, complete with a heart-shaped backrest. Very on brand, honestly, lol.
Our gondolier didn’t sing, but thanks to some clever coordination, we followed another gondola whose gondolier did. He serenaded not just his passengers, but all six gondolas trailing behind, including ours. And that’s the serenade you’ll hear in the video below.
It was interesting to see the chipped buildings as we glide along maze-like canals. It's entertaining to watch people crossing the canal bridges while we're passing through. I'm sure it would be a lot nicer if it's just me and the hubby with a singing gondolier in the gondola. Maybe next time. Gondola, by the way isn't just for tourists' consumption, it's also the locals' way of getting around.
i love pizza and i love prosciutto
After the gondola ride, we were officially on our own. The tour guide handed us a map, pointed out where and when to regroup, and off we went. Since we were heading to Assisi and then Rome next, and Venice was only a day stop, we spent the next few hours simply wandering.
We explored the narrow streets, ducked into little shops, and hunted down an ATM (travel tip: HSBC usually offers the best conversion rates). Eventually, we made our way to the meeting point, early, on purpose. We want to grab something to eat before we leave.
We stopped at a small pizza place, and I swear, it was the best prosciutto pizza I’ve ever had. I might have died and went to pizza heaven but went back to earth because I haven't had my tiramisu yet, lol.
But at that moment, it truly hit me: I am in Italy. Delicioso, mama mia!
And in case I haven’t mentioned it yet, I love, love, love, love prosciutto.
ASSISI.
view from the the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi
Our next stop was Assisi, and the Basilica of San Francesco d'Assisi was absolutely lovely. Perched high on a hill, it commands a view that’s nothing short of breathtaking, the kind that makes you pause mid-step and just take it all in.
Photos weren’t allowed inside the basilica, but I may have, *coughs*, accidentally snuck in a few video clips, right up until my husband started whisper-yelling at me. Fair enough. The paintings on the walls and ceilings were extraordinary. I kept wondering how the artists even managed it. Lying flat on their backs? Suspended midair? Pure devotion and very strong necks?
We made sure to visit every level: the lower church, the upper church, and even the “basement,” where they say St. Francis himself is buried. Each space felt distinct, reverent, and quietly powerful.
The place left such an impression that years later, when my husband converted to Catholicism, he chose Francis as his Christian name. Not a bad souvenir to take home from Assisi.
ROME.
From the romance of Venice and the breathtaking views of Assisi, we headed next to the historic city of Rome.
Before we even entered the city, our guide, who, by the way, was Italian, issued a friendly warning about Roman drivers. According to him, the moment a Roman gets behind the wheel, their brain switches into Gladiator mode. I thought that was hilarious. As it turns out, he wasn’t exaggerating.
Parking felt more like a creative suggestion than an actual system, pedestrian lanes seemed optional, and stoplights appeared to be more of a decorative feature. Honestly, it reminded me a bit of home, Manila traffic energy and all, so in a strange way, it felt oddly familiar.
We arrived in Rome at night, and our very first stop was the Trevi Fountain. According to tradition, tossing a coin into the fountain ensures a return to Rome. Standing there under the evening lights, surrounded by centuries of history and a crowd of hopeful returnees, it felt only right to make a wish.
ce sta na leggenda romana legata a sta' vecchia fontana per cui se ce butti un soldino costrigni ar destino a fatte tornà
there is a roman legend
bound to this old fountain
that if you throw a coin in
you'll oblige the destiny
to let you be back
Our guide, however, decided to get a little creative and slightly rework the legend. According to him, tossing two coins meant you’d meet an Italian, and three coins meant you’d marry one.
Since I wasn’t married yet at the time, I couldn’t resist teasing my then boyfriend (now husband). I told him I’d be throwing six coins in that fountain, purely to improve my odds, of course. He responded the only appropriate way: with a dramatic eye roll.
For the record, you don’t just toss coins into the Trevi Fountain any which way. I was told that the coin should be thrown with your right hand over your left shoulder, and your back turned to the fountain. Because apparently, even wishing in Rome has rules.
Our next stop was the Spanish Steps at Piazza di Spagna. Since it was already nighttime, everything was dimly lit, and I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely sure why the place was so famous.
That is, until it clicked. I had just watched Roman Holiday a few months earlier, and suddenly it all made sense. Now I can’t wait to return to Rome someday, sit on those steps, eat gelato, and channel my inner Audrey Hepburn, purely for cultural reasons, of course.
(Update: I did return a few years later during one of our Mediterranean cruise stops, and naturally, I ate gelato on the steps, channeling my inner Audrey H.)
Our tour guide met us at the top of the steps, then escorted us to our hotel, officially calling it a night. And with that, Rome gently tucked us in, one iconic landmark at a time.
The next day we had an early start and made a bee line to the ruins which of course includes the Colosseum. It was Christmas day and most establishments are closed, yes, including the Colosseum so we just contented ourselves on oohing and aahing on the the facade. Next time, we'll make sure we can actually go inside.
(Update: we did and we booked a special tour to get us inside and through some of the off limits area.)
Trivia:
Do you know that Italians hate Starbucks? They don't like how Starbucks butchered their espresso and cappuccino. So for the Starbucks' city mugs collector, sorry, no Starbucks Rome mug. I don't think Starbucks would dare step foot in Italy, lol.
We saw all the usual touristy stuff in Rome (the Forum, Bocca della Verita, etc) and then hopped back on our chartered bus and went to the Vatican. As a Catholic, that was a pretty awesome experience. Hearing the Papal Blessing on Christmas day, right there in front of him, in the Vatican City is just surreal! I was hoping to hear the Pope say Merry Christmas in Tagalog (fine, Filipino) but I got bored waiting so we just head out to check out the surrounding areas.
Then came lunchtime, an Italian Christmas lunch, no less. A proper one, too: a five-course affair, complete with Panettone. Absolute bliss.
My husband likes to tease me by calling me a Tiramisu connoisseur, which I am most certainly not. I’m just, well, particular about my tiramisu. It mildly infuriates me when restaurants label something Tiramisu when it’s really just sponge cake with vanilla icing and a polite dusting of cocoa powder. Excuse me! isn't that’s false advertising? A proper Tiramisu requires mascarpone cheese, ladyfingers soaked in espresso (and a little rum, ideally), and respect for tradition.
Sadly, Tiramisu did not make an appearance at our Christmas lunch. So I did what any reasonable foodie would do: I briefly snuck out and went next door to buy one to go.
And let me tell you, for a food lover and devoted Tiramisu fan, it felt like I had died and gone straight to Tiramisu heaven.
FLORENCE.
Home to Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, and if you have even a passing interest in leather goods, consider this your happy place.
If hubby loves Venice, mine is Florence.
I love Florence. Love. Love. LOVE!
I would go back in a heartbeat if given the chance… and the time… and the money… and, ideally, sufficient vacation days approved in advance.
