Listed by Matteo, who once wrote a university essay against Airbnb’s destruction of Florence and has since inherited his aunt’s apartment and developed a more nuanced view of markets.
This is a romantic one-bedroom near the Ponte Vecchio, as mentioned in the title. I should clarify that I mean “romantic” in the older, less American sense: not easy or luxurious, but charged with beauty, history, and small physical tests you could not possibly anticipate at the onset. Florence rewards effort, which is a generous way of saying that this apartment will occasionally ask more of you than the photos suggest.
There are stairs. I mention this early because I have learned that it comes as a surprise to many guests arriving from across the Atlantic, often with impressive luggage and a touching belief in elevators. The stairs are narrow and clarifying; by the second landing, you will know whether you packed too much, and possibly whether you and your partner might consider counseling.
There is no air conditioning. I have considered installing it many times, usually in August. Though I understand that Americans have essentially solved summer, I remain bound by European pride, municipal hesitation, and the old-world belief which I inherited – alongside this apartment – that one should not improve a beautiful room simply because everyone inside it is suffering.
The Wi-Fi is unreliable. This is inconvenient if you need to check restaurant hours, send a work email that turns into six, or prove to people at home that you are living, briefly, with taste. But when the signal drops, guests have been known to look out the window, talk to each other, or briefly become the kind of people they imagined they would be when they booked a romantic apartment in Florence.
Ideal for couples who understand that romance is not the absence of discomfort, but a shared willingness to be inconvenienced in service of beauty.