Wandering around the city once we had checked in, we came across the Hotel Berchielli, where we spent five days of our honeymoon. What I remember about it was that we were both so sick with a stomach bug they brought a doctor in to treat us, and finally when they needed the room (we had already overstayed our reservation by a couple of days), they put us in a taxi and sent us, having eaten nothing for days, on our way to the airport and our next destination, Majorca. It was a very rough flight, and the two of us were the only ones -- I'm not exaggerating here -- who weren't sick because our stomachs were empty. Beautiful hotel, though.

The only food I remember from my last visit to Florence was a dessert of meringue, whipped cream, tiny strawberries the size of my fingernail and chocolate shavings. Of course, I don't remember what the name of the restaurant was. But I've only been here a few hours, and I've already stopped at a pastry shop and bought meringues in honor of it.

(Photos of wine bars and the Ponte Vecchio with a few tourists by me)