Getting Un-lost, to see the guidebooks' favorites

After a few minutes of genuine concern – good grief, how was I going to find the group if  I couldn’t even hear the guide over my headset? – I suddenly remembered that the other major sight we were to see was the main piazza.  And since the Duomo sits at the top of the town, I figured my best bet was to follow the meandering street we’d come up, down, and surely, at some point, there would be some indication of whence lay one of the most famous city squares in the world.

And sure enough, I hadn’t meandered long when I saw that, at a fork in the street, most of the people were going off to the right.  And I was pretty sure we’d come up that street on the left.  So I went right, with the crowd, and a couple of minutes later I could hear snippets of lecture coming over my headset.  And in another couple of minutes I came out into the bright sunshine pouring down into a vast open area full of people.  And over to my right, being lectured to, I spotted my group.  Oh, frabjous day, I was un-lost.



Piazza del Campo

But now that I knew where they were, I took a moment to take in the scene.  The main part of the Piazza del Campo is this huge shallow bowl, not circular-shaped, but rather (as my guidebook helpfully suggested) fan-shaped, the straight line of the opened fan running in front of the Palazzo Pubblico (City Hall).  The brick bowl slopes gently up from there, and people sit about here and there on the sloping bricks, even lie back to soak up the sun.  All around the rim of the plaza are cafes, restaurants, pizza shops, sidewalk vendors.



Palazzo Pubblico (City Hall), Siena

I have to say something about the City Hall building.  It is somewhat like the one in Florence, though not quite so awkward-looking.  The one in Florence, whose official name is the Palazzo Vecchio, dates from 1322, the one in Siena from 1342, which undoubtedly accounts for their similarity.  The one in Florence  is this big, flat-faced square building, topped with a crenelated roof,  in the middle of which stands a very tall bell tower, which I must say looks spectacularly phallic.  The Siena City Hall is wider, and lower; it’s proportions are more pleasing, and the bottom floor is saved from the blankness of the rest of the building by a line of white arches.  But its bell tower is very tall, and sits far to one side, completely negating those pleasing proportions.  I’m including pictures of both, so you can decide for yourself which is more attractive.  Much is made of both buildings, which were the center of civic life in the middle ages, and are still.  For me the most impressive thing about them is that they have been standing, and functional, for almost 700 years.

Palazzo Vecchio (City Hall), Florence

But as to Il Campo itself (its name, The Field, comes from the time when it really was a field, outside the city walls): its biggest claim to fame is the Palio, a horse race held there every July 2^nd and August 16^th.  Thousands of people crowd into this piazza, and spill over into the narrow side streets, to watch this race.  The riders ride bareback, around the embankment that circles the sunken piazza.  There’s a picture in my Eyewitness Travel guidebook, and I can’t believe all the people – it’s like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but more concentrated.  Can’t see how most of those people could see the riders, never mind the horses.  And apparently those cheering fans can’t go to the bathroom, because someone said no outdoor facilities are provided.

And what does the winner of this spectacular event win?  A large banner (which is what “palio”means).

When I rejoined the group, I got a number of “There she is!” and Gianni assured me that as soon as he had dismissed everyone for lunch, he had planned to come looking for me (I really was the bane of his existence). Pat and I settled at an outside table at one of the cafes, and did a little people watching, while consuming a perfectly nice lunch – one of those moments that I said earlier we didn’t get enough of on the trip.  Then we went looking for a bank, as I was drastically low on cash, and it really is better to deal in that than in credit cards, especially in small shops and cafes.  I looked up how to say “bank” (una banca), and was directed up a kind of alley lined with shops to the narrow, hilly streets beyond, where we wandered for a while, trying to find that banca. When we did, we found we couldn’t get into the little vestibule where they had the ATMs, because you needed a card key to get inside.  When a lady came along and helpfully used her key to get us inside, we couldn’t get the ATM to give us any money.  A frustrating 15 minutes, especially since we both felt we should be exploring.

When we returned to the group it was time to go (off to the wine tasting, see Note of July 27, 2013), which did not set well with most of us in the group; we simply had not had enough time to explore this fascinating, ancient little city.  One should have at least a full day; we had about four hours.  A word to the wise.

A final note: as we were walking back to the bus – here, as elsewhere, tour buses must park a good way outside the historic areas to be visited – I spotted an ATM on the outside wall of una banca.   I rushed over to use it, and right behind me was another member of the group, who had also not been able to locate an ATM earlier.  The group just kept going, which annoyed us both.  Ben, the fellow with me, a big, bluff  man who had appointed himself class clown -- and often was quite amusing, in his blank-faced way -- was not amused now, especially since the group had waited for one of our members while she slipped into a sweet shop to buy some candy.  He grouchily muttered “For her they could wait," while I was looking over my shoulder, and seeing with relief that Doug, a tall fellow from Texas who always wore a baseball cap, was waving it in the air as he walked on, so that we could see to follow.  The group really had gotten good about looking out for one another.

Onward and Upward

I’m sure those of you who were following my Italian saga with some interest, at least, gave up hope long ago that I would continue.  This failure to get on with it, to finish a writing project, has long been a problem for me.  I admit to lacking the expertise to explain this phenomenon, unless it is that I am just plain lazy.

At any rate, to “get on with it” at last: I would have to say that Siena is a must-see, if you’re going to Italy.  It is genuinely old, and looks it.  You feel as though you’ve stepped back into a medieval city...and in fact you have.  Following their defeat by the Florentines, backed up by the King of Spain, in 1555, the Sienese were forbidden further commercial development, with the result that the city became something of a backwater, frozen in time.  You walk up and down hills on narrow, brick streets, lined mainly with brown stone buildings, cheek by jowl, generally about four stories high.  Indeed, many of them look like the Palazzo Davanzati, that we visited in Florence.  There was one excellent viewing place where we paused and looked out at a blanket of reddish-brown terra cotta roofs.

Of course we saw churches, two of them.  And  I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re all tired of visiting churches, but that seems to be the main thing tour companies are concerned with showing you.  At least that’s the case with Perillo Tours.   The first, San Dominico, is dedicated to Saint Catherine, the patron saint of Siena (who “took the veil at age 8!”); and as with other churches I saw in Italy, I was not much impressed.  Not only was the interior the usual big, dim, bare, and plain, but the outside was of a dull red brick, looking almost like a fortress, rather than a church.  The most noteworthy thing about it is that is houses the head (!) of the saint, in a gilded marble tabernacle on the altar.  Really, this veneration of saints’ body parts can be taken too far.

We wound our way up hill to the main church of the town, or the Duomo.  Now this is an impressive church.  The exterior is similar to the Basilica di Santa Croce, in Florence, (See Note of Sept. 14, 2013) well worth a picture or two.  But the interior dazzled me.  Striped columns!  The result of alternating black marble with white.   And the floors were gorgeous, with religious scenes or large medallions of inlaid marble the length of the nave, and on the floors of the transept; as well as black and white checked frames around mosaics of the Sibyls (i.e., prophetesses of the ancient world), along the side aisles.  Under the dome -- which is encircled partway up by religious folk carved into little niches – the striping continues above the pillars and arches, which gives the dome area an exotic look, especially with the large gold gilt statues that stand atop a striped pillar in each corner.  And the dome itself, instead of being a swirl of figures depicting scenes from Christ’s life, as in the dome of Florence’s Duomo (if you’ll recall, the most noteworthy thing I saw inside that huge church), is an aqua “sky” full of silver squares framing gold stars.  And way, way up there, an “eye” of gold, beyond which are small windows and a golden sunburst.  An invitation to vertigo, if there ever was one.

Siena Cathedral - Professional Photo

All of this “busy-ness” throughout the church gives a kind of mid-eastern look to the place.  Persian?  Maybe even Egyptian?  Most definitely not your typical Italian church.

Our group squeezed into the exquisite, but very small, Piccolomini Library, off one of the side aisles.  Another stunningly beautiful place.  Vividly painted frescos all over the walls, and the ceiling, and for once you could see them clearly.  The room was very light. We were informed that the paintings – most of which date from 1502-1507 – had never been retouched, or even cleaned; but it looked as though the artists had finished painting them yesterday.  They depict scenes from the life of Pope Pius II, but what I loved about them was 1) the obvious joy of the artist in fully utilizing the concept of perspective and 2) the view they gave you of how people looked and dressed in the late 15^th, early 16^th centuries.

All around the room, on the lower part of the walls beneath the paintings, were opened illustrated manuscripts, with all that elaborate lettering and colorful, carefully executed scenes at the beginning of each page.  The only other books I saw were a few historical books in a display case in the middle of the room (which crowded us even more than might otherwise have been the case).  But for all the lack of books, it’s a humdinger of a library.

I was so impressed with this church I knew I had to get a colored guide book.  The group was on the way out, but I dashed into the little gift shop, sure that someone had seen me go.  It took an unusually long time to buy my book, because there was a woman ahead of me who went on chatting and chatting with the person behind the counter.  But the book was mine at last, and I dashed outside only to find…no group.  I looked and looked, first from the height of the steps leading up to the church, then up close and personal as I wandered through the crowds in the piazza, searching for a familiar face.  And the worst thing was, I couldn’t hear anything on my little headset.  Oh, my goodness, they’d gone and left me!