Going with the Flo-rence.

Shuttered, on the Ponte Vecchio.

Florence, Italy - Strains of wheezing accordion danced through the piazza like an out-of-breath dance partner.

An antique carousel with pastel-painted horses stood at the centre, ringed by street artists spinning names into wire and hawking just-painted watercolours and distorted caricatures.

Everything was a circus of art.

The narrow, jagged streets spill out into many such squares in Florence, which are also filled with markets selling leather goods, stationery and textiles – industries for which the area is internationally known.

Ponte Vecchio – which, because of its history, was the only bridge not blown to smithereens during the second world war – twinkles with gold vendors, and one can only imagine it lit up at night.

At the city's centre lies the massive Duomo – the fourth-largest church in Christendom, which is built of a patchwork of multicoloured marble hewn from the nearby hills, which makes them appear snow-capped.

Nearly 500 narrow stone steps carry you to and from the top of the cupola – even bringing you face-to-face with the massive frescoes inside the dome, while providing unparalleled views of the red clay-shingled buildings below.

It's the romance of Italy as I had imagined.