Who doesn’t love June in Florence? The morning light hits the Arno just so; sunsets seem sweeter when delayed; and piazza life picks up its early-summer steam. Though I’m generally good-natured about the high tourist season in Florence, I’ve found that the influx can get ugly when it hits too close to home—or, rather, when it comes inside your home. Kindergarten classmates. Former crushes. That one uncle (or cousin once removed?) who you can never remember exactly how you’re related to. Once they learn you live in Florence, these sorts of characters tend to emerge from the woodwork, conveniently just before they board the plane to Peretola.