Florence to the sea

The Renaissance hill country is what Tuscany looked like on a postcard. The Arno corridor is what Tuscany did for a living.

Stand on the Ponte Vecchio and turn your back on Siena. What is in front of you is the Arno going west, a river with a job: it carried Florence's wool to the sea for eight hundred years, and the towns along it are the working towns nobody puts on an itinerary. This is the road from Florence to the coast, driven by someone who lives at the end of it.

Pistoia, a small Florence with no river and better bread, and the town to sleep in instead of Florence. Abetone, a ski village that is better in August than in February. Montecatini, the grandest spa in Italy with nobody in the ballroom. San Miniato and the truffle the author cannot taste. Pontedera and the museum that is more than the Vespa. Pisa beyond the tower, the south bank at six o'clock, and the Medici baths where you can take the cure on a Tuesday. And Livorno, the port with no time for you, and the bowl of red sea spelled with five Cs.

In every town, the author's own tables: not a list, the places he goes back to, and why. Plus what to eat, when to come, and how to move.

Every place in this book is a place the author has been. Every restaurant is one he has eaten in. Where a town is overrated he says so, and you should trust the recommendations because of it.

Book 2 in the Anywhere Italy series, from the writers of the Sunday letter about the thousand Italian towns most travelers skip.