Siena: Vague Historic Dust

     On our last day in Florence we decided to venture out into the Tuscan countryside and spend the day in Siena, a medieval hill-town about two hours away by train. We stopped by the Duomo again to take another stab at acquiring a trash can on which to place Charlie for a picture, and finally we were successful and turned towards the train station with unburdened consciences. The train ride was beautiful, and we disembarked at the Siena station eager to explore this town we knew almost nothing about. We were initially frustrated by the lack of information about how to get from the station into the centre of town because though the sun was shining bright and warm, it was still February and solidly in low tourist season. Eventually we did manage to purchase bus tickets without having to ask for help and made an educated guess as to which bus to take. We were right, as it turned out, and we followed the crowds from the broad modern streets into the narrow passageways of the medieval centre and were lost to the world.

     Our first, and only real goal for the day was to find the Piazza del Campo, so we followed the signs along the winding streets, gaping at how well-preserved, how alive this city seemed. Despite the narrow-ness of the streets, people, cars and bikes all carefully made their way up and down the hills, sometimes with calls too close for comfort. Having spirited some uneaten croissants away from the hostel that morning, we somehow needed to find some other food before doing much exploring. Stumbling upon a supermarket, we ventured inside and successfully purchased two blocks of cheese, and several apples which we crammed into our bags, unwilling to eat them until we had found somewhere other than a street corner to sit down. Giddy with excitement about having food and being in this remarkable town, we walked down the street arm in arm. Not long after that, I started to notice passageways heading off to the left, and down. They were small, so I ignored them, but then there was one I couldn't ignore. This one was wider, lined with tacky souvenirs, and the light at the bottom of the staircase shone brightly. Our arms came unlinked as we carefully made our way down the stairs, and my eyes got bigger as more of the square gradually came into view.

     And there it was, the famous Piazza del Campo. We stood on the very rim of a giant shell, our eyes blinking in the sudden sunlight. Anchoring the square was the Palazzo Pubblico at the bottom and dozens of buildings all around the rim as if without them the entire square would crumble into the volcano over which it's built. We found a place on the square amidst the other small groups gathered there and ate our lunch, astounded by what we had discovered almost entirely by accident.
     Although the town claims to have been founded by Senius, the nephew of Romulus, the founder of Rome, it did not thrive under Roman rule, being located far from any major roads. It wasn't until the Lombard occupation sometime around the 6th century that it gained importance as a trading post, with the necessity of rerouting trade routes to avoid the Byzantine raids along the old Roman roads. After the Lombards surrendered to Charlemagne in 774 it was passed between various rulers, until the unification of Italy during the 19th century. Since then, the city has thrived as a tourist destination, a centre for humanist studies, and as an agricultural producer.
     After finishing our lunch we headed back out into the city, ready for whatever we happened to find. We passed through several beautiful courtyards, lovely in their fading beauty, clearly cherished by the population. We soon found ourselves searching for the Cathedral, which we found, and which took our breath away with it's beauty, and sheer size. Though smaller than the Duomo in Florence, it seemed larger, being surrounded by such a warren of streets. It was unexpected, this massive building situated in such a small city on top of a hill. We discovered with regret that in order to go inside you need to purchase a ticket, so we resigned ourselves to admiring the exterior, a very respectable consolation prize.
     After leaving the cathedral square, we spent the rest of the day exploring the city. We found it is nearly impossible to get lost in Siena, as long as you stay within the confines of the old city walls. Though you may never know exactly where you will end up when turning a particular corner, you can be sure that eventually the labyrinth of streets will guide you back to the Campo. I suppose that's one of the benefits of living at the top of a hill with such clearly defined boundaries, whatever other drawbacks such a situation may possess.

     At one point during our ramblings we noticed a sign that pointed to the Porto San Marco, the Gate of Saint Mark. Without a real intention of doing so, we began wandering downhill and came upon an old gate, which was beautiful in itself, but even more spectacular for what lay beyond. As we passed under the pedestrian archway, my jaw dropped. Immediately in front of us was a small plateau with a playground, and the the ground dropped away to reveal the Tuscan hillside under the party sunny sky. I sped my pace up, anxious to get a closer look, and I was not disappointed. Both of us tried to capture the rolling hills and distant villas on our cameras, knowing the whole time that no picture could do it justice. We stood in silence, much as we had done on the Piazzelle Michelangelo, trying to sear the image into our memories. My admiration of Siena turned to vague disbelief at what the walls and tall buildings were shutting out and how casually it was reintroduced.
     We gradually made our way back to the Campo where we got more gelato, which was both cheaper and better than the gelato in Florence. Go figure. As we made our way back to catch the bus we amused ourselves by deciding which dentist's office we would frequent as Siena residents, which stores we would shop at. Part of the charm of Siena was how seamlessly the past wove itself into the lives of people in the present. Florence gave the impression that although it would always protect it's treasures, it was willing to evolve with its people. Siena did not. Yes, there have been several concessions made to the demands of modernity, but overall the city seems to have changed very little over the centuries. Florence is a city with beautiful buildings housing great works of art and hundreds of years of historical importance. Siena is a museum in which people live out their daily lives casually, without pretense. Siena would come to provide a stark contrast to Venice, another Italian city that has become a museum, with much different results.
     We found ourselves back at the bus stop after several detours, including one to a beautiful church and it's parking lot which provided us with yet another stunning Tuscan panorama, with a little time to spare. So we walked along the ramparts of the old Medici fortress, now connected to the rest of the city by recent growth, and which has been turned into a park providing stunning views of the city from above. I couldn't stop smiling. It had been such a perfect day, in such an unexpectedly perfect city.
     Thinking back on it, Siena is no more perfect than any other city. There is a distinct lack of green space, the only glimpses of nature we found were those hidden from sight by the walls of the city. And although we were not the only tourists, the number of people was manageable, which would not be the case at the height of the tourist season. It would be miserable then, crowded against the unyielding stone buildings, trying to navigate the streets with hundreds of people lost in their guidebooks. Summer would also bring unbearable heat to the maze of streets, and breezes would be almost non-existent. No wonder the city felt the need to build such a beautiful Piazza. And in winter, if there was any snow or ice at all, the streets would become impassable. No, Siena is not perfect. But for us, for that one day, it was. And that's enough.