Siena and Southern Tuscany
(conclusion)
I continued along the N2 for the remaining 11 or so kilometers to Siena. Though the overcast had remained, and thus restricted the view, the riding was pleasantly undulating. As seemed typical of the Tuscan terrain, the roads around Siena were built on a series of hills, but very few of them were severe enough to cause much problem. So I made steady progress and reached the outskirts of Siena at around 8:30. Approaching from the northwest, the distance to the centro from the outskirts was surprisingly long—about six, car-congested kilometers.
(Above: Il Campo, considered one of the greatest squares in the world)
On my way in, I passed a couple of cyclists presumably headed for the town center as well. I’m guessing that they were from Switzerland, though I wasn’t sure as all I had to go by were the pair of 12"x12" red flags with white crosses mounted on three-foot poles in the rear of their bikes. Now, what I’m about to say is not politically correct I’m sure, but give us a break. The Canadians are well-known (notorious?) for this as well. OK, so, you’re from peace-loving, generally well-regarded nations, good. But to be paranoid about being mistaken for Germans (in case of the Swiss) or Americans (in case of the Canadians), seems rather insulting to the Germans and the Americans. All of which, of course, has nothing to do with riding bikes in Tuscany, a subject that I promised to discuss. So, be done with the cynical comments and let’s get back to the relevant subject at hand…
Siena, a city built atop the convergence of three clay hills, was one of the few independent republics to stand up to (and manage to at least once defeat) the mighty republic of Florence in the medieval days. These two titans were engaged in a protracted fight for supremacy in Tuscany, and many of the surrounding towns suffered the consequences of the struggle. At its peak in the late 1200’s, Siena, controlling the wool trade, was one of the most powerful and important cities in Europe. It is also alleged that Siena’s is the purest and most musical Italian spoken anywhere.
All of this, of course, were irrelevant as I tried to fight through the city’s Monday-morning commute to get to the center, which was no mean feat. It’s fair to say that I’ve extricated myself out of some fairly hopeless states of being lost, but Siena almost got the better of me. I rode around the perimeter of the city twice, but can’t seem to penetrate its walls. By the time I found its great square, the renowned Campo, it was already 9:30.
(Above: View of the
Palazzo Publico and the 334-foot Torre del Mangia)
Nonetheless, the square was mighty impressive. Every year, on 2 July and 16 August, the Siena Palio, a bareback horse-race around Il Campo, takes place. But this palio, the most famous in all of Italy, is no ordinary horse race. Held in honor of the Virgin since the 13th century, victory in the Palio is a matter of pride for the rival contrade. Siena’s contrade, numbering 17 in all, are neighborhood wards carried over from the city’s ancient division. Each contrada has its own flag, animal symbol, church, museum, you name it. Needless to say, allegiance to one’s own contrada is an important social element of Sienese life.
(Above: Contrada
flag of a neighborhood in proud display)
Follow this link for more Siena pictures.
Unfortunately, the other prominent landmark facing Il Campo, the Palazzo Publico, was under scaffolding (as Italy undergoes nationwide sprucing up for the new millenium). I sat down for breakfast at a café fronting the square. Get up in San Gimignano, breakfast in Siena. La vita e bellissima!
(Above: The
13th-century duomo, decorated with striking bands of black and
white marble)
From what I saw, Siena looked to be at least a two-day visit. I could have spent a day just meandering its wonderfully dark and narrow cobbled streets. Unlike the other cities I’ve visited on this trip, Siena was actually alive and functioning. From the middle ages, it had been, and continues to be, an Italian banking center.
(Above: Looking out
towards San Domenico and
the Capella di Santa Caterina)
I started getting more worried about the time. It was past 10AM and I had one-and-a-half hours to get back to San Gimignano, almost 40 kilometers away. As usual, my biggest challenge would be finding my way out of Siena and finding the road back to Monterrigioni. I tried to pay attention on my way in, but after the merry-go-round, I lost track.
Getting lost in Tuscany was starting to get old. By the time I finished my trip, I had picked up a strong Italian foundation in listening to directions. One a destra here, a sempre dritto there, throw in a couple of a sinistras and a subito…I must have zigged instead of zagged at one of the junctions, but I quickly checked myself or I might have ended up in Napoli. I turned the bike around and soon found the road from where I came in. But I had burned half an hour putzin’ around. The signora whose place I had been renting had been so sweet, I didn’t want her to wait. Between my "time-trial" effort from Lucca to Pisa yesterday trying to catch the train, and a time trial from Siena to San Gimignano again today, I was gaining cycling fitness in a hurry.
Ah, but the ever-friendly sun came out as I headed back just in time to cheer me on. With the benefit of the familiarity gained from having ridden the same road on the way out, I only had to concentrate on making good time. The sunshine had such a drastic impact on the landscape I could hardly believe it was the same route I cycled just a couple of hours earlier.
(Below: Sunshine brought
out the color of the Sienese hills)
Where there used to be dull greyish splotches, there were now deep viridian velvety fields shimmering in the blinding light of the late-morning sun. Where there used to be fog from the ground to the sky, there were now distinct outlines of hilltop villas and well-tended vineyards. In addition to the its vital role in the wine industry, the clay from these hills also yield a most important pigment, Burnt Siena, used by watercolorists and oil painters since ancient times.
I got back to San Gimignano at around 12:30, half-an-hour late for my rendezvous. But the lady was extremely gracious and even gave me until two o’clock to get rested, cleaned up, and packed. And so to London.
(Below: The view from
Bibbiano, on the finishing climb to San Gimignano)
Fini.
Last Updated: July 12, 1999