Italy was, without a doubt, my favorite country of the trip. It felt like stepping into a painting where the color palette was made up of warm stone, golden light, and, most importantly, gelato. I ate it for multiple meals a day. No regrets. The only thing I regret is not doing that sooner.

First up was Lake Como, where everything felt clean, peaceful, and just…rich. The kind of place where even the ducks seem to own real estate. I walked along the lake, stopped for lunch, and of course—gelato. Lake Como radiated “old money vacation” energy in the most relaxing way possible.

Then came Milan, a city that smelled like perfume and ambition. It was sleek, beautiful, and buzzing with fashion vibes. We saw some of the fashion hubs and walked past buildings that looked like they were designed by architects who moonlight as sculptors. One church in particular, all spires and drama, reminded me of a gothic runway show. Milan felt like a city that knows it’s fabulous and isn’t afraid to flaunt it.

But then… Florence. My favorite city in my favorite country. I loved everything about it—the layout, the charm, the cobblestones that made me question my choice in footwear. Florence felt like it had stayed true to itself while still making room for gelato shops on every block (a city after my own heart). Public transportation? Who needs it when walking is this scenic? Every piazza felt like a living room shared by the whole city—people gathering, laughing, eating, and just being. Summer nights stayed warm, and it seemed like no one got going until after 10 a.m., which worked perfectly with my new gelato-based lifestyle. Even the smell of the city was different—warm, worn, and welcoming.

The Ponte Vecchio bridge was a bit of a tourist trap, sure, but it was also cool. There’s something about being shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers all stopping to take the same photo that weirdly works there. And don’t get me started on the history—the family rivalries, the drama—it was like a Renaissance soap opera, and I was hooked.

Rome, on the other hand, was kind of like a pop quiz on every history book I ever skimmed in school. Everywhere I turned was a ruin, a monument, or a statue of a guy with a sword. I appreciated it all, especially the Coliseum and the subway that drops you off right next to ancient ruins like, “Surprise! History!” But it was busy. Like, Disneyland-in-July busy. It was amazing, but I felt like the crowds made it harder to really take in the soul of the city.

After that whirlwind, Burano and Murano felt like stepping into a watercolor. They were so slow and serene that I felt like I was in a dream. Wandering those little back alleys, sometimes totally alone, was beautiful—but after the energy of Rome, it felt almost too slow. Like I was in a screensaver.

Venice had a similar charm to Florence, but with canals instead of streets. It was romantic, photogenic, and a little claustrophobic. I like a good stroll, and it’s hard to commit to a spontaneous wander when your only options are “bridge” or “boat.” Still, the architecture was stunning, and I checked out a Leonardo museum that scratched my “I should probably learn something” itch.

Italy gave me a lot: full camera rolls, full stomach, and a full-on love affair with Florence. If I could teleport anywhere in the world right now, it’d be a quiet piazza with a scoop of pistachio gelato in hand.

🚶‍♂️ Walk-O-Meter:

9/10
Every city was a walking tour, sometimes without me realizing I had joined one.

🍦 Local Treat Report:

Gelato. At one point, I had it for all three meals. Honestly, I peaked.

😎 How Much of a Local Did I Feel?

6/10. I walked confidently, said “Ciao” a lot, and only once asked if Florence had Uber.

🌴 Things California Never Prepared Me For:

People eating full dinners at 10:30 p.m. while looking effortlessly stylish.

🔁 Would I Go Back?

I’m actively Googling “how to retire in Florence.”