Climbing the Leaning Tower of Pisa
- mark McAlpine
- Oct 31
- 6 min read
A Day Trip Tale & History in the Tilt

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to climb the Leaning Tower of Pisa, well, I’ve done it. I’m Mac, and I’m here to tell you straight: this isn’t just a day out; it’s an experience. One where you can feel nearly 900 years of history beneath your feet, plenty of tourists striking the same “I’m holding it up” pose (and yes, it is hilarious when you stop to think about it), and the spine-tingling sensation of walking around the top and feeling wrong in all the best ways.
Why go climbing the Leaning Tower of Pisa
If you’re staying in Florence (or anywhere within, say, 100 miles), and you’ve got a car for a day trip, or are happy on the train, definitely go. Pisa is a compact city with enormous character, and that means you can arrive, explore, climb, eat, and be back, or stay the night if you prefer, without the fuss of a longer stay.
There are lots of lovely places to eat around Pisa. Think fresh Tuscan fare: hearty ribollita soup, local pecorino cheese, wild boar ragù, and of course gelato that’s worth lingering for. Pair it with a glass of Vernaccia or one of Tuscany’s lighter red wines and you’ve got a pretty perfect day.
The Tourist Photo Ritual
Outside the tower you’ll notice the same pose everywhere: arms stretched, hands “holding” the tower. Imagine hundreds of people all doing the same thing. It looks good in a photo, and that’s fine, but the collective effect is a kind of funny performance. We’re all doing the same act of solidarity with stone and gravity. It’s a moment of shared silliness and travel theatre.

From inside, climbing up through the curved staircase, you see the detail: the marble columns, the archways, the slight lean, the narrow windows looking out. The exterior joke gives way to interior wonder.
The Marble Mountains
Here’s the thing: the marble that makes that white-stone tower gleam? It didn’t just show up magically. The surrounding region, those hills and smaller mountains near Pisa, contains the marble quarries that supplied much of the building material. Knowing that, you’re not just climbing a tower: you’re climbing a structure whose stones once lived in the hillside and were transported, chiselled, and polished. In a sense, you’re climbing history incarnate.

The Purpose of the Tower
Despite how iconic it is now, the Leaning Tower of Pisa was never meant to be a tourist monument. It was built as the freestanding bell-tower (campanile) for the adjacent cathedral, the Pisa Cathedral, in the centre of the square known as the Piazza dei Miracoli (the “Square of Miracles”). Those bells? They were built to call the city to prayer and mark time.
Once you climb the tower's lofty heights, this really becomes very apparent.
Why Does the Tower Lean??
Work on the tower began in 1173. It was built in three main stages over nearly two centuries, yes, two centuries. The interruptions had everything to do with war, funding, and the instability of the ground beneath it. That ground was soft, made up of clay, fine sand and shell, perfect for ancient Pisa’s maritime experiments, terrible for a grand eight-storey marble tower.

By the time the third floor was completed (1178 or thereabouts), the lean was already noticeable. Builders tried to compensate by making the upper levels taller on the short side, but that attempt only added more weight and exacerbated the tilt.
Despite that, the gaps between construction phases arguably helped, those halts let the soil settle, which probably prevented an earlier collapse.
Steps to the Top
Today the tower stands at 55.86 metres on the low side and 56.67 metres on the high side. The difference is small in metres but enormous in sensation.

There are around 294 steps to the top (some sources say 296). I counted them, or at least I tried, but I ran out of toes at twenty. I did manage to get up them all, although there felt like a lot more than 294.
One of my hobbies is rock climbing, and over the years I’ve been up plenty of cliffs that are hundreds of metres high without a problem, once I conquered my fear of heights, that is… but that’s another story. So you’d think fifty-five metres of marble spiral wouldn’t be a big deal. Apparently, there’s a difference between climbing a rock face and climbing a wonky tower.

When I reached the top, I got vertigo. Not the usual “I’m high up” kind, but a strange, floating-off-balance feeling. It’s the lean, you can feel it. Every turn, every step up there feels subtly off. If you’re brave enough to go, close your eyes for a second at the top, I bet you’ll feel it too.
Let me know if you do. 🙂
The Bells
Inside that topmost belfry, there are seven ancient bells, one for each note in the musical scale. The largest one was cast in 1655 and weighs over three and a half tonnes!

And yes, it’s both satisfying and hilarious to look down from the top and spot hundreds of tourists outside doing the same pose: pretending to hold up the tower. Don’t get me wrong, it makes for a great photo. But when you realise there are groups of them, all snapping the identical stance, it’s funny. It’s a shared travel ritual, the “I’m holding up the Tower” shot.
Inside, you’re above the crowds, hearing the gentle hum of the bells, feeling the wind, sensing the structure’s story.

The lean (again) and modern engineering
At its worst, the lean reached about 5.5 degrees by 1990. After major engineering work between 1993 and 2001, it was reduced to about 3.97-4 degrees. That might not sound huge, but believe me, from up the top, it feels huge. Every floor you climb, the tilt becomes more apparent; you’re walking slightly sideways, and when you look down the staircase you see the curve.
Knowing the tower was once at risk of collapse (it was closed to the public in 1990) adds weight. The fact that you can climb it now speaks volumes about engineering and human persistence.
Food, day-trip life and local flavour
After your climb, or before, you’ll want to eat. Pisa’s city centre is full of places, tucked-away trattorias, gelato parlours, and late-night pizzerias. Try the local specialities: for example, in Tuscany you’ll find pecorino cheese, wild boar ragù, and hearty soups like ribollita (especially in colder months). And when the weather’s right, a crisp, chilled Vernaccia or a Chianti-light makes an excellent pairing.
If you’re doing this as a day trip from Florence, think of it like this: pick up your car in the morning, roll down the motorway, park near the Piazza dei Miracoli, do the climb, eat, stroll the riverside, maybe watch the sunset from the Arno. It’s packed but totally manageable in a day. Taking the train is another very viable option.
Final thought
When you finally emerge at the top, you’ll look out across Pisa, the rooftops, the Arno River, and the hills beyond. But you’ll also look across your shoulder, maybe check how the belfry sits, silently ring one of the bells, and realise you’ve done more than tick a box, you’ve walked through centuries of ambition, error, art and craft.

And yes, you’ll probably still grin at that photo where you’re holding up the tower. But afterwards, you’ll know the tilt, the steps, the marble, the bells, the lean, and that makes it more than a tourist stop. It becomes one of your stories.




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