Admittedly it took a little while for the magic to kick in given that it was 36C and I had quietly dissolved into a puddle by the time we'd reached il Duomo's 463rd step. But the view was breathtaking. Mr M had a very short career as a portrait photographer - I lost count of the number of requests - really, he should have charged. I spent rather a long time convinced that Santa Croce was actually Santa Maria Novella - they look very similar you see.
And then it was time for the descent. Do please note the curve…that would be the top of the dome.
As we devoured a pot of gelato at the bottom, marvelling at our athleticism and recoiling at the cost of said gelato and the human body's remarkable ability to produce sweat sea salt, the bells started to ring in the bell tower. Our timing couldn't have been more perfect.