How to Plan a Budget Family Friendly Weekend in Florence & Pisa

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The four of us arrived in Pisa early on a chilly October morning, tired but excited after more than a month in Europe. This was only our second trip outside Germany, and it already felt like we were pushing our luck with how cheaply we were traveling. I had booked four Ryanair tickets for 40 Euro each, and the price still amazed me. No frills, no snacks, no assigned luxuries—just seats on a plane and a chance to see more of the world. Florence surprised us by being both budget conscious and genuinely family friendly at the same time.

Table of Contents

• The Loggia dei Lanzi
• The Last Suppers Scattered Through the City
• San Miniato al Monte
• The Rose Garden Below the Overlook
• Piazza della Signoria After Dark
• Madonnelle
• The Oltrarno
• The Wine Windows
• The Search for Camp Darby
• First Impressions of Florence
• Climbing Brunelleschi’s Dome
• A Costly Dinner Lesson
• The Leaning Tower of Pisa
• What I Learned in Three Days
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The Search for Camp Darby

When the plane door opened, a wave of cold air and thick gray clouds greeted us. I had imagined Tuscany glowing in golden light, not hiding under a blanket of October gloom. For a brief second, I wondered if we had somehow flown in circles and landed back in Frankfurt. Then I saw the word ingresso above the terminal doors, and that small Italian word made everything feel real. We were here.

After customs, we picked up a sleek BMW sedan with low miles and a built-in GPS that looked impressive but proved almost useless. Camp Darby should have been a quick 30-minute drive from the airport, yet we spent more than three hours circling unfamiliar roads and second-guessing every turn. The mood in the car shifted from excitement to quiet irritation as we passed the same exits more than once.

We finally found the hotel by accident when we turned around for the second time and spotted a tiny sign announcing it three miles ahead. The office was closed for the weekend, so we had to locate a set of lockers holding our room keys. Using a random code from our booking confirmation, we opened the compartment and retrieved the keys to our room. The small victory felt enormous after a day of wrong turns.

First Impressions of Florence

Later that afternoon, we made the hour-long drive into Florence’s city center and immediately faced another challenge—parking. Much of the historic center is pedestrian-only, and the streets that allow cars are narrow and congested. Once we found a space, we committed to leaving the car there for the rest of the day.

We discovered that we were only a few blocks from the Palazzo della Signoria, and the square took my breath away. Larger-than-life statues lined the plaza, including the replica of Michelangelo’s David standing proudly outside the old town hall. Seeing it in that setting made the history feel close and tangible.

We found a small pizza parlor just far enough from the heavy tourist traffic, and the food tasted like everything I had hoped for. The crust was thin and crisp, the sauce bright and simple. Pizza in Italy feels different, and pasta tastes even better than anything I had eaten at home. Whether it was the ingredients or the atmosphere, the meal felt like confirmation that we were exactly where we were meant to be.

Climbing Brunelleschi’s Dome

The next morning, we returned to Florence to explore the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, the Baptistery, and the Bell Tower. After touring the cathedral interior and admiring the bronze doors and painted ceiling, we joined the long line to climb to the top of Brunelleschi’s dome. The staircase was narrow and steep, and the climb felt endless as we wound higher and higher above the city.

I followed behind Kamren as he huffed and dramatically reminded me that I had forgotten to pack his inhaler. He groaned through the final stretch and eventually crawled the last few steps on all fours before collapsing onto the observatory deck nearly 400 feet above the ground. The performance was impressive, but the view from the top made the climb worthwhile. Terracotta rooftops stretched in every direction, and Florence unfolded beneath us like a painting.

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Gelato Before Another Meltdown

By three in the afternoon, everyone was done pretending they loved Renaissance architecture. My feet hurt. The boys were snapping at each other. I could feel a complaint building before it even formed into words.

We ducked into a small gelateria that did not have a line out the door. The air smelled like sugar and cold cream. One chose dark chocolate so dense it stained his lips. The other picked lemon and immediately regretted it after the first sour bite, but refused to admit it. I ordered pistachio and did not share.

We stood outside with paper cups and plastic spoons, backs against a warm stone wall. Traffic hummed somewhere beyond the narrow street. Nobody talked for a minute. Just licking. Just breathing. It cost less than a museum ticket and fixed more than any museum could have at that moment.

Parco delle Cascine and the Need to Run

Florence is beautiful, but it is not built for children who need to sprint. Cobblestones punish knees. Sidewalks narrow without warning. After a morning of “don’t touch that” and “stay close,” I needed space as much as they did.

Parco delle Cascine felt almost suspiciously open. Grass instead of stone. Trees instead of façades. The boys took off without asking permission. I watched them from a bench near the Arno River, where cyclists rolled past like they had nowhere urgent to be.

One fell. No drama. Just dirt on his palms and a shrug. That alone felt like a small victory. Nobody was posing. Nobody was learning. We were just there.

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The Leonardo da Vinci Museum, Finally Something They Could Touch

I love a cathedral. My children do not. So we tried the Leonardo da Vinci Museum almost out of desperation.

It worked.

Wooden gears clicked under their hands. A model bridge came apart and snapped back together. One of them squinted at a sketch of a flying machine and said, “He was basically trying to build a helicopter.” That sentence alone made the ticket worth it.

The place is not grand. It is narrow and slightly crowded. But it hums with curiosity instead of reverence. No one shushed us. That mattered more than I expected.

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Piazza della Signoria After the Itinerary Fell Apart

By the time we drifted into Piazza della Signoria, I had given up on sticking to the plan. We were supposed to be somewhere else. I do not even remember where now.

A violinist was playing near the statues. The notes bounced off the stone and lingered in the air. One of the boys stopped mid-complaint and just listened. A man painted quick charcoal portraits on a folding easel. A living statue blinked and broke character to wink at a toddler.

We stayed longer than we meant to. Coins clinked into an open case. The sky shifted toward evening. No tickets. No lines. Just noise and light and a square that felt alive instead of historical.

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A Costly Dinner Lesson

We spent the rest of the day walking from one end of the city to the other, and by sunset the boys were starving and impatient. We searched for the pizza place we had loved the night before but could not find it again. Instead, we chose a restaurant with a perfect view of the Duomo, believing the setting would make the meal memorable.

The decision turned out to be a mistake. The menu was entirely a la carte, and everything cost extra. The fries did not come with the chicken tenders. The drinks were overpriced and served room temperature. By the time the bill arrived, my husband and I felt as though we had been robbed in plain sight. We left full of regret and still slightly hungry, learning a lesson about eating too close to major attractions.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa

On our final day, we returned to Pisa to explore the Field of Miracles, where the Duomo, Baptistery, and the Leaning Tower stand together on a stretch of green lawn. We stored our luggage in lockers at the base of the tower and began the climb up the narrow, winding staircase. With every step, gravity shifted our weight as the tower leaned beneath us.

Once again, I followed Kamren as he exaggerated his exhaustion on the way up. This time, however, I reached into my jacket pocket and produced his inhaler at the top. Two quick puffs and a sip of water restored his energy instantly. He stood proudly on the deck, breathing easily and enjoying the view over Pisa.

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What I Learned in Three Days

Three days were not enough to see everything Florence and Pisa had to offer, so we focused on the highlights and promised ourselves we would return. That first Ryanair trip taught me a few practical lessons as well. Yellow cable knit sweaters add more volume in photographs than I realized. Restaurants near major tourist attractions rarely deliver value for the price. Driving an hour back and forth steals time from a short weekend. Long lines waste energy when online tickets are available. Public transportation across Europe is reliable, affordable, and often the better choice.

Tuscany did not greet us with sunshine, but it gave us something better—stories, perspective, and a reminder that travel rarely unfolds perfectly. Even the wrong turns and expensive dinners become part of the memory.

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