Up, Down, and All Around: The Coolest Things I’ve Climbed in Italy

Vivian Mergler is a student at Eastern Michigan University and a Featured Blogger. She is studying with ISA in Florence, Italy.

I’ve noticed there are two kinds of travelers in Italy: those who stroll from one gelateria to another, and those who see a staircase, winding path, or uniquely built city and say, “Let’s do this.” To my surprise, despite the heat waves in Italy right now, I’ve found myself in the second group more and more with every adventure I take. If it’s got an incline, a spiral, or even a mule ramp (yes, really), I’m probably halfway up it already, huffing, puffing, and taking in every majestic view along the way.

Here are the coolest things I’ve climbed (up and down) in Italy, complete with a touch of history, a bit of personal sweat, and a whole lot of admiration.

Piazzale Michelangelo, Florence

Climb Type: Gradual uphill walk with stair segments.

Height: Approx. 100+ steps, elevation gain ~60 meters (200 ft).

Built: 1869, designed by architect Giuseppe Poggi.

History: Piazzale Michelangelo was part of Florence’s 19th-century urban renewal under the leadership of King Victor Emmanuel II, who wanted the city to look more Parisian (as one does) to impress both locals and visiting royalty. Poggi designed this scenic overlook as a grand terrace to celebrate the genius of Michelangelo, installing bronze copies of his famous works (including David). Fun fact: The statues were brought up the hill by oxen (imagine carrying those!).

My Experience: I took the long, leafy walk from the city center, gradually leaving behind the noise of Vespas and tourists. The last few stairs feel quite ceremonial, as the panorama of Florence opens up beneath you. My number one suggestion? Go around sunset — not only is it cooler, but the city bathes in a magical golden hue that turns every dome and rooftop into pure art. But the real magic begins after sunset. As twilight deepens, locals and travelers alike gather on the steps like it’s an open-air amphitheater. Street musicians begin to play everything from acoustic love songs to the occasional operatic aria, and the air fills with the clink of wine glasses, quiet laughter, and that rare feeling of shared serenity. Couples cuddle, young artists strum guitars, families unwrap dinner. It’s one of those rare public spaces where everyone belongs.

Final Thoughts: Sunset Bliss, Moonlight Magic.

The Steep Streets of Siena

Climb Type: Meandering medieval inclines.

Top Elevation: Around 322 meters (1,056 ft) above sea level.

History: Built atop three hills and divided into 17 historic districts (called contrade), Siena was once a powerful rival of Florence in both politics and art. The streets twist and climb unpredictably — originally designed for defense, but now perfectly suited for calf toning. The town’s crown jewel, Piazza del Campo, transforms twice a year into the site of the Palio di Siena, a fierce and ancient bareback horse race with origins tracing back to the 1600s (and, informally, probably even earlier).

Experience: Navigating Siena feels like playing a real-life board game where each turn reveals a new chapel, fountain, or a steep little passageway that makes you question how people in the 13th century carried groceries throughout the city. But despite the burn in my legs, every inch of Siena was pure storybook charm, especially when the church bells chimed through every narrow corridor of the city.

Final Thoughts: Hills with Historic Heart.

The Bridge to Civita di Bagnoregio

Climb Type: Long, steep footbridge.

Length: 300 meters (~984 ft).

Built: Originally accessible by donkey path; currently a footbridge built in the 1960s and updated in 1995.

History: Civita di Bagnoregio, founded by the Etruscans over 2,500 years ago, sits on a crumbling plateau of volcanic tuff. Nicknamed La Citta che Muore (“The Dying Town”), it’s slowly vanishing due to erosion. Once part of a thriving community, Civita was essentially cut off by landslides and earthquakes and is now home to only a handful of full-time residents. The dramatic bridge is the only access point, and you’ll certainly feel as though you’ve earned your entrance.

Experience: I chose probably the hottest possible time of day to cross (10/10 do not recommend without sunscreen). With no shade, the sun felt like a personal oven set to “extra crispy.” But the view from the bridge — Civita rising like a mirage from the valley — and the morale of my friends kept me going. Once inside the ancient gate, time slows. Quiet streets, ancient stone balconies, and a silence so deep it feels sacred. Worth. Every. Step.

Final Thoughts: Fairy Tale Vibes Achieved After a Fiery March.

Saint patrick’s well, orvieto

The Climb Down the Well.

Climb Type: Double spiral descent and ascent.

Depth: 53.15 meters (174.4 ft) underground!

Steps: 248 down, 248 up — with no overlap thanks to a double-helix stairway.

Built: 1527-1537 by Antonio da Sangallo the Younger

History: After the 1527 Sack of Rome, Pope Clement VII fled to Orvieto, fearing a siege and dying of thirst. So, he commissioned this engineering marvel: a well deep enough to reach the water table, with two spiral staircases (modeled on a nautilus shell) to allow mules to carry water up and down without colliding. The result is a masterpiece of Renaissance ingenuity and claustrophobic fascination.

The Climb Up the Well.

Experience: The descent is cool and eerie, the echo of your footsteps joining the whisper of water far below. Going down feels like falling gently into the earth’s quiet belly. Coming back up? Well… let’s say the mules had better quads than I did. But it’s a brilliant piece of architecture and one of the most unique climbs I’ve ever done.

Final Thoughts: Spirals of Wonder (and Mild Wheezing).

Brunelleschi’s dome & giotto’s bell tower, florence

Climb Type: Vertical epic.

Duomo Height: 114 meters (374 ft)- 463 steps.

Bell Tower Height: 84.7 meters (278 ft); 414 steps.

Built: Duomo by Brunelleschi (completed in 1463); Bell Tower by Giotto, Andrea Pisano, and Francesco Talenti (completed in 1359).

History: The Florence Cathedral, or Santa Maria del Fiore, is one of the most astonishing architectural achievements of the Renaissance. Its massive dome was designed by Filippo Brunelleschi, a goldsmith-turned-architect who won a competition (without revealing how he’d build it… bold move). He constructed the dome without scaffolding, a feat so daring and innovative that even modern architects still study it. Fun fact: You can actually visit Brunelleschi’s tomb in the crypts under the Cathedral! The accompanying bell tower, or Campanile, was started by the famous painter Giotto, then continued by Pisano and Talenti after Giotto’s death. With its pink, white, and green marble and Gothic details, it’s like a wedding cake designed by someone who really liked geometry.

Experience: I climbed both. Yes, both. With zero regrets. The Duomo climb starts inside the cathedral, spiraling upward between the inner and outer shell of the dome itself. It’s dimly lit, narrow, and at times a little claustrophobic — you brush shoulders with centuries-old stone, and if you’re tall, maybe duck once or twice. Partway up, you step onto an interior walkway that circles the base of the dome’s frescoed ceiling. It’s dizzying, both for the height and for the sheer scale of Vasari and Zuccari’s “Last Judgment” looming above you — a chaotic swirl of angels, demons, and fiery apocalypses all painted across the curved ceiling. Then, it’s onward, up even narrower stairs, until you finally emerge outside, and there it is.

Florence.
All of it.

The whole city rolls out below in sun-washed terracotta — in the distance, domes, bell towers, cypress-dotted hills. The Arno glimmers. You can hear a faint hum of the streets, the chime of distant bells. There’s a moment of stillness at the top, where the wind hits your face and the exhaustion fades. I wasn’t just seeing the city. I felt like I earned it.

And then… round two.

The Bell Tower, in many ways, is the more graceful climb. No dome to squeeze through, just wide stairwells and progressively better vantage points. At each level, arched windows reveal new perspectives: rooftops peeking out from different angles, the Duomo itself growing ever more majestic as you rise beside it. At the very top, the payoff is arguably even better, because here, you can see the Dome in all its glory. Standing that high, gazing across at Brunelleschi’s masterpiece, I felt like I was floating in history.

Final Thoughts: Historic Heights that Take Your Breath Away (Literally).

Final Thoughts

They say Rome wasn’t built in a day — and after all these climbs, I totally believe it. Whether winding up through whispering cypress trees or spiraling down into a pope’s panic plan, each of these climbs showed me not just views, but layers of Italy’s history, beauty, and endurance.

So yes, Italy fed my soul (and my calves). And if you’re ever wondering whether that staircase is worth it?

It is.

Leave a Reply