Montecarla isn’t easy to find, being out of the city centre, but once you’re here, you ain’t going no-where. This is a leopard printed tropical jungle; an Aladdin’s den of decadence, all with an 80s rock n roll edge. Entry requires membership (10 Euros), which lasts a year and includes a free first drink, though if you tell the guys on the door you’re only coming for one night they usually let you in for eight. It may seem pricey, but it’s worth it: trust us!
The décor is absurdly opulent. Don't leave a stone unturned here: explore the sneaky crevices and dark corners. And if you feel inspired by it all, just grab one of the sketchbooks and pens from the tables and get drawing.
The loos feel like a manor house’s grand bathroom – BarChick would happily have spent the evening in there if someone would deliver her Margaritas. Everything gets kinda crazy upstairs, where you’re still allowed to smoke inside, and by smoke, we mean, smoke anything you like (that’s according to the guys on the door). There were a lot of giggling heads.
It doesn’t get going until about 11pm, but that’s not late for Florence. Make this your last stop of the night, as you never know what’s going to happen in one of those dark corners.
Rumour has it; this place was the last of the Medici family's pleasure palaces. We’re not sure of the facts, but it certainly felt like a pleasure palace to us.