Siena to Calabria (or my great big Italian family and adventure)
Oct 13th, 2022, 04:16 AM
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Siena to Calabria (or my great big Italian family and adventure)
PART I
Saturday
Why am I taking this trip alone? To improve my Italian, my husband is out of vacation and to finally meet the Calabrian relatives I discovered during Covid. I found two uncles, an aunt and multiple cousins through internet sleuthing and an Italian friend.
I arrived in Siena after flying into Rome, finding the bus and was picked up by my AirBnB host. He insisted I wear his coat (yes it was cold) and on carrying my two very small but ridiculously heavy carry on bags which he heaved into the back of his car on top of his truffling shovels. After nearly rear-ending the first car, we swerved and came close to a head-on collision with the second car only to turn a corner and nearly rear-end a third car. Meanwhile, my host was yelling “Damned Japonese drivers”. I could only roll my eyes as the proof was in my white-knuckled hands clutching the seat as we careened around a corner and came to a screeching halt before hitting a fallen tree. Once we finally got back on our way my host mentioned he would be happy to drive me anywhere I might want to go—even to another town. Mama mia, no! Although I may have to risk it and go truffling with him.
My apartment is on a quiet block away from the tourist area and has its own garden. I didn't realize HOW important being away from the tourists would turn out to be! There is a supermarcato close by, small cafes, a salumeria, and a bread shop. Day one was really about settling in and getting ready for class that starts Monday at the Dante Aighieri language school. Had lunch out of ribollita, a nice glass of wine, and an espresso, did my grocery shopping, stared at the arzigogolare (my Italian word of the day for overly complex) garbage sorting schedule, went to the salumeria, the bread store, and even the art store to get a paintbrush I tossed aside to make my suitcase lighter (note: the paintbrush wasn't the problem).
In my part of Siena, the Contrade (the Palio “team”) is the Ram. This Palio race is pretty serious stuff with fist fights between Contrade and some Contrade have long ongoing feuds (which must be tough in such a small city). Even the retired doctor next door got into a brawl with the "turtles" which included fist fighting. So the “Rams” won this year’s Palio and tonight was a big celebration. Volunteers cooked for 2,000 neighborhood people, everyone was wearing their silk ram scarves and there was singing and dancing in the streets. After 20 minutes of that, I shut my window. My neighbor Pasquale would be disappointed in me, “Amelia, you are Italian. You must go OUT into the squares and meet people. This is what we do. We are Italian.”
SUNDAY
The first full day alone I spent mostly wandering around with my iPhone. Wandered over to the school to find it for Monday morning. Wandered to the flea market and then sat and had a cappuccino and read the paper. Then wandered home and wandered back to the grocery store (I have been in Siena 24 hours and am already a regular there). Continued to have my issue of starting to speak Italian followed by deer in the headlights when the answer is in of all things… Italian.
Headed out later to the Duomo. Not much you can say about it that hasn’t already been said 1,000 times better except it would have been hard not to believe in an almighty God after walking into that building in the 1200s. While 175 years to complete is supposed to sound like it took a really really long time —I honestly can’t believe they whipped that up so quickly considering it’s taking my neighbor over two years to make their dreams come alive with a custom backsplash and Wolf Range. Meanwhile not only is the Duomo huge but every inch is covered with something whether marble or sculpture or bas relief or painting. In some ways it reminded me a bit of the ostentatious Newport RI Mansions—quality and quantity jumbled together. But in this case the actual soaring architecture is awe-inspiring—not in the Biblical sense: fear of God but in the reverential sense of the word--the how the ^%*! did they build this? The Piccolómini Library was a place to rest your eyes albeit with frescoes by Pinturicchio and his student Raphael covering again every empty surface.
Finally, the crypt was opened after it had been used as a junk room for years and was cleaned out only to discover a beautiful cycle of paintings by early Sienese artists. These were my favorites due to the simplicity and emotional quality of the frescoes. I was really feeling bad for Jesus coming off that cross with the creepy skull and bones staring up from the ground malevolently while the nails so tenderly were removed from his feet and the three Marys held him grief-stricken. A lot of humanizing of that story—that I guess we lost with our current politicized christians in the US.
Tomorrow first day of class..... to be continued
Saturday
Why am I taking this trip alone? To improve my Italian, my husband is out of vacation and to finally meet the Calabrian relatives I discovered during Covid. I found two uncles, an aunt and multiple cousins through internet sleuthing and an Italian friend.
I arrived in Siena after flying into Rome, finding the bus and was picked up by my AirBnB host. He insisted I wear his coat (yes it was cold) and on carrying my two very small but ridiculously heavy carry on bags which he heaved into the back of his car on top of his truffling shovels. After nearly rear-ending the first car, we swerved and came close to a head-on collision with the second car only to turn a corner and nearly rear-end a third car. Meanwhile, my host was yelling “Damned Japonese drivers”. I could only roll my eyes as the proof was in my white-knuckled hands clutching the seat as we careened around a corner and came to a screeching halt before hitting a fallen tree. Once we finally got back on our way my host mentioned he would be happy to drive me anywhere I might want to go—even to another town. Mama mia, no! Although I may have to risk it and go truffling with him.
My apartment is on a quiet block away from the tourist area and has its own garden. I didn't realize HOW important being away from the tourists would turn out to be! There is a supermarcato close by, small cafes, a salumeria, and a bread shop. Day one was really about settling in and getting ready for class that starts Monday at the Dante Aighieri language school. Had lunch out of ribollita, a nice glass of wine, and an espresso, did my grocery shopping, stared at the arzigogolare (my Italian word of the day for overly complex) garbage sorting schedule, went to the salumeria, the bread store, and even the art store to get a paintbrush I tossed aside to make my suitcase lighter (note: the paintbrush wasn't the problem).
In my part of Siena, the Contrade (the Palio “team”) is the Ram. This Palio race is pretty serious stuff with fist fights between Contrade and some Contrade have long ongoing feuds (which must be tough in such a small city). Even the retired doctor next door got into a brawl with the "turtles" which included fist fighting. So the “Rams” won this year’s Palio and tonight was a big celebration. Volunteers cooked for 2,000 neighborhood people, everyone was wearing their silk ram scarves and there was singing and dancing in the streets. After 20 minutes of that, I shut my window. My neighbor Pasquale would be disappointed in me, “Amelia, you are Italian. You must go OUT into the squares and meet people. This is what we do. We are Italian.”
SUNDAY
The first full day alone I spent mostly wandering around with my iPhone. Wandered over to the school to find it for Monday morning. Wandered to the flea market and then sat and had a cappuccino and read the paper. Then wandered home and wandered back to the grocery store (I have been in Siena 24 hours and am already a regular there). Continued to have my issue of starting to speak Italian followed by deer in the headlights when the answer is in of all things… Italian.
Headed out later to the Duomo. Not much you can say about it that hasn’t already been said 1,000 times better except it would have been hard not to believe in an almighty God after walking into that building in the 1200s. While 175 years to complete is supposed to sound like it took a really really long time —I honestly can’t believe they whipped that up so quickly considering it’s taking my neighbor over two years to make their dreams come alive with a custom backsplash and Wolf Range. Meanwhile not only is the Duomo huge but every inch is covered with something whether marble or sculpture or bas relief or painting. In some ways it reminded me a bit of the ostentatious Newport RI Mansions—quality and quantity jumbled together. But in this case the actual soaring architecture is awe-inspiring—not in the Biblical sense: fear of God but in the reverential sense of the word--the how the ^%*! did they build this? The Piccolómini Library was a place to rest your eyes albeit with frescoes by Pinturicchio and his student Raphael covering again every empty surface.
Finally, the crypt was opened after it had been used as a junk room for years and was cleaned out only to discover a beautiful cycle of paintings by early Sienese artists. These were my favorites due to the simplicity and emotional quality of the frescoes. I was really feeling bad for Jesus coming off that cross with the creepy skull and bones staring up from the ground malevolently while the nails so tenderly were removed from his feet and the three Marys held him grief-stricken. A lot of humanizing of that story—that I guess we lost with our current politicized christians in the US.
Tomorrow first day of class..... to be continued
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 13th, 2022 at 04:20 AM.
Oct 13th, 2022, 01:14 PM
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First Day of Class
Google took me on yet another circuitous journey to the school—lots of alleys, under bridges, weird passageways, and beautiful views. Somehow I tested as an intermediate student (yes, I am in what is called al dente 2). It was a bit intense partially from jet lag and partially from the speed of speaking. I liked the teacher's philosophy stop worrying and thinking and try to make it automatic. After 2.5 hours I was ready for my cappuccino break. I recommend this school for those looking to improve their Italian. There are social activities, and the teachers and staff are all very nice. And there are students of all ages and from all over.
I didn't feel like eating out so I stopped into Consorzio Agrario Siena and grabbed pizza and back to the grocery store for lettuce (wear gloves when selecting produce) for a salad. And not to sound like Stanley Tucci but "OMG, this pizza is delicious." Tuna, green olives and onions!
Tuesday
After the farmer’s market (me with all the Italian nonne) I decided I would do my morning cappuccino in the VERY touristy Campo. The setting of course is stunning but I cringed at my fellow American tourists. Taking your shoes off at a cafe? (C’mon, gross). Storming off over the price of the cappuccino (You are paying for location lady!). It was fairly unpleasant, the sun beating on my head, the servers looking miserable, the demanding patrons, and so I gulped down my cappuccino, took in the view quickly, and left. Checked that off my list, Rick Steve.
After a short siesta, I went to the Cathedral Museum to complete my “OPA pass” ticket. Some creepy glass and gold reliquaries with skulls looking out, along with statuary from the Cathedral façade that was being ruined by the elements, and of course Duccio’s stunning Maestà Altarpiece. The altarpiece is 7 by 13 feet with one side featuring forty angels and saints and Mary in a very Beyonce starring role with all that golden glory (this showstopper was meant as a devotional piece for the congregation). The other side, the beautiful tempera stories of Christ, were intended only for the priests. It always was known as a great work of art and I read that the day it was brought to the Cathedral, all the shops in Siena closed as a procession led it to the Cathedral and the bells of Siena chimed.
In the Museum, I saw a line of people and decided I better stand in it and not miss whatever it was they were waiting for. After 20 minutes I realized it was to climb the tower to the top of the unfinished Duomo. The Cathedral was planned to be twice the size of the original (the current Cathedral was only to be a transept) but between poor planning and the plague that was the of that. The views were lovely of Siena, the countryside with cypress, olive, and umbrella pines. While I was ready to go down there is only one way out and that was first to go up again. This next staircase was much narrower, steeper, and with small steps for tinier feet. It became harder to hold my dress down with the staircases wind tunnel effect: Let go of the railing and I might topple onto the people behind me or hang onto the railing and endure my dress flying up. Glad I had nice underwear.
I had a reservation at Babazuf. After I ordered, the waiter came by with a huge tray of freshly picked wild mushrooms and asked me to select which one I would like to have sauteed with my meal. What a meal. There were three other solo diners in the restaurant. They could have freed up two tables by putting us together. Again, this is a nice restaurant, not an Osteria, so why my fellow countrymen come in with flip-flops? Great food. Warm service. Very nice experience.
Google took me on yet another circuitous journey to the school—lots of alleys, under bridges, weird passageways, and beautiful views. Somehow I tested as an intermediate student (yes, I am in what is called al dente 2). It was a bit intense partially from jet lag and partially from the speed of speaking. I liked the teacher's philosophy stop worrying and thinking and try to make it automatic. After 2.5 hours I was ready for my cappuccino break. I recommend this school for those looking to improve their Italian. There are social activities, and the teachers and staff are all very nice. And there are students of all ages and from all over.
NOTE: I have the coffee bar situation down and it is CRAZY I can get a great cappuccino for a dollar!
For lunch, I was directed to what turned out to be literally a hole in the wall. It was a door behind some bougainvillea in Piazza del Mercato. A classmate told me it was the best sandwich he “EVER ATE IN HIS LIFE”. OK, I was going to find this door if it killed me and well, it required a lot of pacing back and forth to figure it out but it was a great Prosciutto Cotto sandwich once I knew to look behind the hanging bougainvillea into the small sandwich shop. Not gonna lie--I did have some flash of the Soup Nazi when I didn't return the menu exactly in the right place. I believe it is called: Gino Cacino di Angelo (there was no sign).I didn't feel like eating out so I stopped into Consorzio Agrario Siena and grabbed pizza and back to the grocery store for lettuce (wear gloves when selecting produce) for a salad. And not to sound like Stanley Tucci but "OMG, this pizza is delicious." Tuna, green olives and onions!
Tuesday
After the farmer’s market (me with all the Italian nonne) I decided I would do my morning cappuccino in the VERY touristy Campo. The setting of course is stunning but I cringed at my fellow American tourists. Taking your shoes off at a cafe? (C’mon, gross). Storming off over the price of the cappuccino (You are paying for location lady!). It was fairly unpleasant, the sun beating on my head, the servers looking miserable, the demanding patrons, and so I gulped down my cappuccino, took in the view quickly, and left. Checked that off my list, Rick Steve.
After a short siesta, I went to the Cathedral Museum to complete my “OPA pass” ticket. Some creepy glass and gold reliquaries with skulls looking out, along with statuary from the Cathedral façade that was being ruined by the elements, and of course Duccio’s stunning Maestà Altarpiece. The altarpiece is 7 by 13 feet with one side featuring forty angels and saints and Mary in a very Beyonce starring role with all that golden glory (this showstopper was meant as a devotional piece for the congregation). The other side, the beautiful tempera stories of Christ, were intended only for the priests. It always was known as a great work of art and I read that the day it was brought to the Cathedral, all the shops in Siena closed as a procession led it to the Cathedral and the bells of Siena chimed.
In the Museum, I saw a line of people and decided I better stand in it and not miss whatever it was they were waiting for. After 20 minutes I realized it was to climb the tower to the top of the unfinished Duomo. The Cathedral was planned to be twice the size of the original (the current Cathedral was only to be a transept) but between poor planning and the plague that was the of that. The views were lovely of Siena, the countryside with cypress, olive, and umbrella pines. While I was ready to go down there is only one way out and that was first to go up again. This next staircase was much narrower, steeper, and with small steps for tinier feet. It became harder to hold my dress down with the staircases wind tunnel effect: Let go of the railing and I might topple onto the people behind me or hang onto the railing and endure my dress flying up. Glad I had nice underwear.
Note to self: Suitcase vs. “systems” go with a suitcase. While the idea of an easy system sounded great: A small roller with a large backpack both of which could be carry-on, in reality turned out to be the equivalent of lugging two blocks of lead with straps that continually caught on things. So even though I packed pretty light for close to three weeks (I say as I wish I had a coat), I decided to ship clothes and gifts home before heading to Calabria. I also have to lug my mother’s painting down as a gift to the Calabrese relatives. So, I walked to Mailboxes, etc. to get the story on that. By the time I got home, I clocked in over 8 miles just between school and my Mailbox journey.
I had a reservation at Babazuf. After I ordered, the waiter came by with a huge tray of freshly picked wild mushrooms and asked me to select which one I would like to have sauteed with my meal. What a meal. There were three other solo diners in the restaurant. They could have freed up two tables by putting us together. Again, this is a nice restaurant, not an Osteria, so why my fellow countrymen come in with flip-flops? Great food. Warm service. Very nice experience.
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 13th, 2022 at 01:17 PM.
Oct 13th, 2022, 05:28 PM
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Love, love, loving your TR! Right from the get go, your description of the driver and I was with you. I have often thought that though they seem crazy, Italian drivers must be very good or they would have all died long ago.
Looking forward to hearing about your family.
Are you an artist? Your mom?
Looking forward to hearing about your family.
Are you an artist? Your mom?
Oct 13th, 2022, 11:19 PM
#7
I also had a most entertaining Italian bus driver who didn’t seem to have his hands on the wheel much, if I’d listened carefully I’m sure I’d have learnt some choice Italian words useful for when I was enraged too. Save me doing a course, lol.
Oct 14th, 2022, 04:39 AM
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Thanks everyone and Adelaidean I can picture that bus driver!
Day three of school. I love my morning walk to class even if it is basically ALL up hill and I am out of breath when I finally sit down in class. Every morning the same group of old guys are sitting at the same cafe, and the women are hanging out laundry or shaking rugs from the windows (would prefer to be the guys sitting at the cafe) and then the beautiful view at the Piazza Del Mercato of the countryside.
After class, I went over to the Botanical Garden located within the medieval walls. It is no Brooklyn Botanic Garden – in that it isn’t landscaped but it has lovely trees, and a view of the orchards that were used to feed the city when it was under siege during its many wars. The only sound was the wind and birds. After, I popped over to the “hole in the wall” sandwich shop only to discover many others already knew to look inside the bougainvillea to get those excellent panini. A long line with just one meticulous sandwich maker and his artistic creations and I couldn’t wait that long.
The school had an outing at 4:00 to Santa Maria Scala and I met fellow students from Holland, Ireland, Belgium, Bayridge!!! Switzerland, Iceland, Netherlands. Many people have been studying for a long time here. Some for 7-8 months and more. Others for a month and still going and reasons to study vary--from hoping to move here, to loving Italy, to having an Italian girlfriend they want to impress. Back to the museum, somehow, I think we missed a big chunk of the museum as we only went to an exhibit about the history of Sienese art from the medieval period to the contemporary. I would say they had a bit of a long dry spell after the medieval period—and the amount of clothing the women wore got less and less as time went on. Headed out for Aperol spritzes. Eight of us sitting outside in a café on Via Roma makes NYC’s plywood gutter cafes seem like sitting in a bomb shelter. An ambulance careened to miss a dog and almost took out classmate Livio sitting on the outside corner. Our teacher was surprised when we all flinched in momentary terror.
A few of us broke off for dinner at a small local place and I saw America through the eyes of Europeans. America is the popular kid who’s a bit of a bully. They want to take their eyes off of us and can’t and resent us because we don’t notice them. We are kind of jerks--full of ourselves. It was a lively discussion with quite a lot of mansplaining to boot—even about how to speak English, to an American—who was an English major.
Thursday
Had a good lunch out of maremma (ravioli) and salad and then took a nap and headed to find gifts. I do NOT like shopping and wandered around fighting crowds, exploring back streets and trying to find NON-tourist trap shops to bring some gifts home. This would turn out to take a lot longer than I imagined.
Friday
At six o’clock met up with classmates in front of Torre del Mangia. The people who are closer to my age only speak German or Italian (which they speak well). I tried to join in but my Italian is just not fast enough and it was difficult for me to get beyond the rudimentary chit chat. One of the women from Switzerland dressed alarmingly like Ivana Trump -- complete with stiff dyed blonde hair and large gold jewelry and perfectly applied makeup. With my clunky Italian I learned she had just arrived from house sitting on her friend’s farm in Tuscany. There she worked for the first four hours of each day, milking, mucking stalls, getting the donkeys out to the field, and feeding chickens and peacocks. Later Johannes (young Dutch classmate) told me that she popped on the back of a Vespa with him and they took off to the Tuscan countryside to explore. He was surprised she let him drive since she apparently competes successfully in Motorcross racing while Johannes was a nervous wreck trying to navigate the Vespa. Just goes to show… don’t judge a book……wish I had gotten to know her better.
Afterwards we went to an outdoor bar with a beautiful view of Siena and a bad DJ (whom everyone thought was really good and I thought seemed to be stuck in the 90s). This place is very popular with the locals. There was beautiful golden light on Siena as we drank our Aperol Spritz. Good conversation (until the mansplainer came over to our side and began his lecturing – this time about Brazil).
Saturday
The day started out cloudy, but the prediction was torrential rain by afternoon. I went to the Pinacoteca to start. There is a lotta gold leaf in there but the lyrical spirituality of Duccio stands out. After a while, the gold Byzantine-inspired panels of Madonna and child can get a bit redundant—even for an artist—when it is room after room after room. But the stories of Christ, the saints, and apostles that incorporate domestic details, landscapes, street scenes, and torture are a little peek into the day to day medieval world and mind. On the one hand, a large painting of the Birth of the Virgin has St. Anne, looking a little wiped out (new baby and all), bathing Mary in a beautifully tiled room with a swaddle infant on her lap. On the other hand, a Diptych of Saint Clare features a gruesome flaying of Saint Bartolomeo vividly rendered in tempera with red blood spraying and above that a panel with St. Catherine on the breaking wheel. After reading about the Catherine breaking wheel, I think this artist took some liberties to create a new unique form of cruel torture. The wheel was meant to break bones not eviscerate with spikes. But the image is effective even if not accurate with its lovingly rendered spraying blood.
I always look for where the animals are in these paintings and there really were very few. Of course, there are the dutiful donkeys as extras to look at the baby Jesus in awe (although these donkeys seemed pissed with each other and about to get into a row). There was a dog, running over to eat some kid who just fell out of a window and some random lions scattered about. Not a lot of positive images of animals probably because this was still the time when “animals had no souls” and weren’t going to be joining anyone in paradise—so why bother with them? (Strangely though animals did go on trial for crimes—even rats were put on trial in a Church court once but their lawyer argued they were so hated it wouldn’t be safe for them to show up for a court appearance—ok I digress). Dogs were really popular in medieval times. The nuns loved them so much that the nunneries were often overrun with them until the Pope put an end to that saying dogs were a luxury they couldn’t have (this was said by the guy with illegitimate kids sprinkled around Tuscan countryside).
Near the Pinacoteca I did see a small upholstery pillow shop and found a handmade tote bag made with vintage fabric for one of my sisters. And then I saw a small weaving shop, Trame Di Storia and wandered in. The owner is lovely. We chatted and I decided FINALLY!! NON TOURISTY gifts. But I wanted a scarf with ocean colors for my sister and there were none. Since I was here for another week Ms. Gazzarri said she would weave one for me. I was thrilled (in fact I checked in a few days later to see it on the loom). And stopped in again dragging classmates to show them where they could find wonderful gifts at a reasonable price. I HIGHLY recommend this shop if you want a beautiful scarf or want to bring a souvenir home for family or friends not made in China.
And then the deluge started. Little did I know this would be how my next week would be. I ran home down side streets and alleys to avoid the masses of tourists and saw a little Trattoria that looked so warm and inviting--I regret not writing the name down. Instead of gruffly turning me away when I asked for a table for one, the waiter said he could seat me in 10 minutes. Apparently, the sight of someone standing in a line is as attractive as blood in the water for sharks. Within minutes there was a long line standing in the pouring rain behind me. I was seated and had my gnocchi and wine and was not rushed and it was a warm break from the weather. My Italian is getting good enough that people think I speak Italian and that can be a problem.
Tomorrow I decided I wanted to hike a little but the weather was iffy. I wanted to do the rail trail walk between Colle di Val d'Elsa and Poggibonsi. Coming up......... stay tuned for those still following.
Day three of school. I love my morning walk to class even if it is basically ALL up hill and I am out of breath when I finally sit down in class. Every morning the same group of old guys are sitting at the same cafe, and the women are hanging out laundry or shaking rugs from the windows (would prefer to be the guys sitting at the cafe) and then the beautiful view at the Piazza Del Mercato of the countryside.
After class, I went over to the Botanical Garden located within the medieval walls. It is no Brooklyn Botanic Garden – in that it isn’t landscaped but it has lovely trees, and a view of the orchards that were used to feed the city when it was under siege during its many wars. The only sound was the wind and birds. After, I popped over to the “hole in the wall” sandwich shop only to discover many others already knew to look inside the bougainvillea to get those excellent panini. A long line with just one meticulous sandwich maker and his artistic creations and I couldn’t wait that long.
The school had an outing at 4:00 to Santa Maria Scala and I met fellow students from Holland, Ireland, Belgium, Bayridge!!! Switzerland, Iceland, Netherlands. Many people have been studying for a long time here. Some for 7-8 months and more. Others for a month and still going and reasons to study vary--from hoping to move here, to loving Italy, to having an Italian girlfriend they want to impress. Back to the museum, somehow, I think we missed a big chunk of the museum as we only went to an exhibit about the history of Sienese art from the medieval period to the contemporary. I would say they had a bit of a long dry spell after the medieval period—and the amount of clothing the women wore got less and less as time went on. Headed out for Aperol spritzes. Eight of us sitting outside in a café on Via Roma makes NYC’s plywood gutter cafes seem like sitting in a bomb shelter. An ambulance careened to miss a dog and almost took out classmate Livio sitting on the outside corner. Our teacher was surprised when we all flinched in momentary terror.
A few of us broke off for dinner at a small local place and I saw America through the eyes of Europeans. America is the popular kid who’s a bit of a bully. They want to take their eyes off of us and can’t and resent us because we don’t notice them. We are kind of jerks--full of ourselves. It was a lively discussion with quite a lot of mansplaining to boot—even about how to speak English, to an American—who was an English major.
Thursday
Had a good lunch out of maremma (ravioli) and salad and then took a nap and headed to find gifts. I do NOT like shopping and wandered around fighting crowds, exploring back streets and trying to find NON-tourist trap shops to bring some gifts home. This would turn out to take a lot longer than I imagined.
Friday
At six o’clock met up with classmates in front of Torre del Mangia. The people who are closer to my age only speak German or Italian (which they speak well). I tried to join in but my Italian is just not fast enough and it was difficult for me to get beyond the rudimentary chit chat. One of the women from Switzerland dressed alarmingly like Ivana Trump -- complete with stiff dyed blonde hair and large gold jewelry and perfectly applied makeup. With my clunky Italian I learned she had just arrived from house sitting on her friend’s farm in Tuscany. There she worked for the first four hours of each day, milking, mucking stalls, getting the donkeys out to the field, and feeding chickens and peacocks. Later Johannes (young Dutch classmate) told me that she popped on the back of a Vespa with him and they took off to the Tuscan countryside to explore. He was surprised she let him drive since she apparently competes successfully in Motorcross racing while Johannes was a nervous wreck trying to navigate the Vespa. Just goes to show… don’t judge a book……wish I had gotten to know her better.
Afterwards we went to an outdoor bar with a beautiful view of Siena and a bad DJ (whom everyone thought was really good and I thought seemed to be stuck in the 90s). This place is very popular with the locals. There was beautiful golden light on Siena as we drank our Aperol Spritz. Good conversation (until the mansplainer came over to our side and began his lecturing – this time about Brazil).
Saturday
The day started out cloudy, but the prediction was torrential rain by afternoon. I went to the Pinacoteca to start. There is a lotta gold leaf in there but the lyrical spirituality of Duccio stands out. After a while, the gold Byzantine-inspired panels of Madonna and child can get a bit redundant—even for an artist—when it is room after room after room. But the stories of Christ, the saints, and apostles that incorporate domestic details, landscapes, street scenes, and torture are a little peek into the day to day medieval world and mind. On the one hand, a large painting of the Birth of the Virgin has St. Anne, looking a little wiped out (new baby and all), bathing Mary in a beautifully tiled room with a swaddle infant on her lap. On the other hand, a Diptych of Saint Clare features a gruesome flaying of Saint Bartolomeo vividly rendered in tempera with red blood spraying and above that a panel with St. Catherine on the breaking wheel. After reading about the Catherine breaking wheel, I think this artist took some liberties to create a new unique form of cruel torture. The wheel was meant to break bones not eviscerate with spikes. But the image is effective even if not accurate with its lovingly rendered spraying blood.
I always look for where the animals are in these paintings and there really were very few. Of course, there are the dutiful donkeys as extras to look at the baby Jesus in awe (although these donkeys seemed pissed with each other and about to get into a row). There was a dog, running over to eat some kid who just fell out of a window and some random lions scattered about. Not a lot of positive images of animals probably because this was still the time when “animals had no souls” and weren’t going to be joining anyone in paradise—so why bother with them? (Strangely though animals did go on trial for crimes—even rats were put on trial in a Church court once but their lawyer argued they were so hated it wouldn’t be safe for them to show up for a court appearance—ok I digress). Dogs were really popular in medieval times. The nuns loved them so much that the nunneries were often overrun with them until the Pope put an end to that saying dogs were a luxury they couldn’t have (this was said by the guy with illegitimate kids sprinkled around Tuscan countryside).
Near the Pinacoteca I did see a small upholstery pillow shop and found a handmade tote bag made with vintage fabric for one of my sisters. And then I saw a small weaving shop, Trame Di Storia and wandered in. The owner is lovely. We chatted and I decided FINALLY!! NON TOURISTY gifts. But I wanted a scarf with ocean colors for my sister and there were none. Since I was here for another week Ms. Gazzarri said she would weave one for me. I was thrilled (in fact I checked in a few days later to see it on the loom). And stopped in again dragging classmates to show them where they could find wonderful gifts at a reasonable price. I HIGHLY recommend this shop if you want a beautiful scarf or want to bring a souvenir home for family or friends not made in China.
And then the deluge started. Little did I know this would be how my next week would be. I ran home down side streets and alleys to avoid the masses of tourists and saw a little Trattoria that looked so warm and inviting--I regret not writing the name down. Instead of gruffly turning me away when I asked for a table for one, the waiter said he could seat me in 10 minutes. Apparently, the sight of someone standing in a line is as attractive as blood in the water for sharks. Within minutes there was a long line standing in the pouring rain behind me. I was seated and had my gnocchi and wine and was not rushed and it was a warm break from the weather. My Italian is getting good enough that people think I speak Italian and that can be a problem.
Tomorrow I decided I wanted to hike a little but the weather was iffy. I wanted to do the rail trail walk between Colle di Val d'Elsa and Poggibonsi. Coming up......... stay tuned for those still following.
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 14th, 2022 at 04:54 AM.
Oct 14th, 2022, 08:59 AM
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I decided to take a rail trail walk between Colle di Val d'Elsa and Poggibonsi. I did as much research as I could online and decided to wing it. Got off the bus at Colle di Val, got lost looking for the trailhead, asked for directions, and got lost again. Finally found it and after the trail veered away from the autostrada it was a lovely quiet walk to Poggibonsi. In fact, strangely quiet with no birds until I saw the reason: “Attenzione Gatti in Liberta” –a warning of an upcoming village for cats with both their summer and winter "residences" scattered along the path and lots of cats. Once I cleared the cat village, I saw a flock of pheasants, some pied crows, and other birds. Finally arrived in Poggibonsi where I would need to find a bus back to Siena. Lots of teens out that looked a bit thuggish and nobody knew where the bus stopped. I was getting a little worried as the sky was darkening and everyone I asked “Dov'è la stazione degli autobus?” sent me in a different direction. Finally, I sat in the pouring rain, thunder, and lightning under a metal bus stop which seemed to be unsafe but correct… soon a shaking drug addict (who looked exactly like the actress Jennifer Coolidge) sat down with me and decided we were going to hang out. I made it home pretty soaked with Jennifer Coolidge by my side. And tomorrow back to class.
NOTE: If you want to take this walk: and it is so nice to walk in the countryside in Tuscany: the train is probably a lot easier. The only issue is the train station is as you know, is below Siena and the bus stopped not that far from my apartment. But the stress of trying to find the correct bus stop home would have made the train a better bet. Of course, if you have a car, you have many more opportunities to walk in the countryside.
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 14th, 2022 at 09:44 AM.
Oct 14th, 2022, 09:37 AM
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Rainy Monday and after the election some of the shine wore off of Italy for me.
Today a new group of classmates.
After class I wandered over to Santa Maria Della Scala. I followed some German tourists and inadvertently slipped in for free. I thought I was just going to look at a Chapel and didn’t realize I was entering a vast museum complex (apparently through the back door). Santa Maria della Scala with tunnels, niches, hidden underground roads for transporting goods, and internal rooms for food storage was a "city within the city" during its day. Santa Maria Scala was first a shelter for visiting pilgrims as well as a place of refuge during the plague. Later it became one of the first medieval hospitals. The Pellegrinaio Hall is covered in murals that depict the history of the hospital (in action complete with open wounds being healed) as well as depicting the systems set up to care for the poor. One panel shows the orphan girls from a nurse caring for infants to the culmination of a wedding when the girls leave the orphanage. I headed downstairs to see the badly eroded sculptures from the original Il Campo fountain (seriously, can miss this) lots of relics, blah blah blah and then headed down further and discovered the Archeological Museum. I entered not knowing that it is easy to get lost in this labyrinth of low-lit tunnels and side tunnels, dead ends, and passageways filled with Etruscan and Roman artifacts—some literally filled or arranged (i.e. scattered). I didn’t know at the time it could take a couple hours to explore these tunnels – I only know that I felt a little panicked and lost as nobody was around, nobody saw me enter, and it was near closing time and I had wandered pretty far. Of course, it wasn’t helping that I was surrounded by funeral urns in the low lit tunnels. I decided I deserved Gnocchi for dinner if I ever got out alive (Gnocchi is a theme).
Today a new group of classmates.
After class I wandered over to Santa Maria Della Scala. I followed some German tourists and inadvertently slipped in for free. I thought I was just going to look at a Chapel and didn’t realize I was entering a vast museum complex (apparently through the back door). Santa Maria della Scala with tunnels, niches, hidden underground roads for transporting goods, and internal rooms for food storage was a "city within the city" during its day. Santa Maria Scala was first a shelter for visiting pilgrims as well as a place of refuge during the plague. Later it became one of the first medieval hospitals. The Pellegrinaio Hall is covered in murals that depict the history of the hospital (in action complete with open wounds being healed) as well as depicting the systems set up to care for the poor. One panel shows the orphan girls from a nurse caring for infants to the culmination of a wedding when the girls leave the orphanage. I headed downstairs to see the badly eroded sculptures from the original Il Campo fountain (seriously, can miss this) lots of relics, blah blah blah and then headed down further and discovered the Archeological Museum. I entered not knowing that it is easy to get lost in this labyrinth of low-lit tunnels and side tunnels, dead ends, and passageways filled with Etruscan and Roman artifacts—some literally filled or arranged (i.e. scattered). I didn’t know at the time it could take a couple hours to explore these tunnels – I only know that I felt a little panicked and lost as nobody was around, nobody saw me enter, and it was near closing time and I had wandered pretty far. Of course, it wasn’t helping that I was surrounded by funeral urns in the low lit tunnels. I decided I deserved Gnocchi for dinner if I ever got out alive (Gnocchi is a theme).
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 14th, 2022 at 09:39 AM.
Oct 15th, 2022, 07:21 AM
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I am enjoying this very much, thank you! Have thought about doing a trip to go to Italian language school myself.
Don't hold back on your thoughts on any of the people you encounter, it's interesting and sometimes the mirror needs to be held up.
Love the description of the blonde lady who turned out to be a Motocross rider and despite makeup and jewellery had no trouble doing farm work.
Don't hold back on your thoughts on any of the people you encounter, it's interesting and sometimes the mirror needs to be held up.
Love the description of the blonde lady who turned out to be a Motocross rider and despite makeup and jewellery had no trouble doing farm work.
Oct 16th, 2022, 03:04 PM
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Thank you so much... I am thinking how to write about Calabria--it is coming... you will need to read between the lines a bit about what i learned so as to protect privacy.
Thank you for the encouragement everyone. @Joan I am sorry that my portrayal of SOME Americans is disconcerting but I do think that when you travel in another country some etiquette is required.
Tuesday It’s been raining quite a bit on and off. Had a gelato in front of the Duomo. Went over to join a Downton Abbey Scone party but found myself helping a classmate Niek clean out his refrigerator because the mansplainer roommate left rotting fish and food behind. I made some whipped cream and then when the very lovely posse of 18-year-olds from school arrived speaking only German and snap chatting, I split. Went to go check on how my sister's scarf was coming along and saw it on the loom almost finished and did some teleworking.
Wednesday My classmate Pierre and I went to the Wednesday weekly market after class. As a man, he insisted his paper map was better than Google Maps and and would not believe me that Google maps are really a great way to navigate the back streets. Despite me saying, “let’s turn here” – “uhm look, it says turn here” we kept on plowing straight ahead. Finally, finally, finally he agreed to look at my phone and we were 15 minutes out of the way. We backtracked to the market and no loss – lots of crap (ala 99 cents store) was being packed up on trucks.
After we parted ways I headed to the Civic Museum--a beautiful Gothic building--in the hopes of seeing the two famed murals Effects of Good Government and Effects of Bad Government which, surprise were under construction. The building was started in 1297 reusing some pre-existing walls. and was always the center of politics and administrative functions of the Sienese state. The Council of Nine and 500 parliamentary members met here. The Council of Nine was rotated and chosen by lot from Sienese citizens every two months. Because they feared corruption, the Council members had to live in the palazzo to avoid outside influence during their two months of service. Even without being able to see the Good/Bad Government murals the building, the Maestà by Simone Martini and some of the other civic murals were pretty interesting. One of the tourist attractions at the Civic Museum is the long walk up the tower for a spectacular view. But note tickets must be purchased in advance and the sign clearly says in multiple languages SOLD OUT TODAY. As person after person after person came up asking “vorrei un biglietto per la torre,” I understood the peevishness of the ticket salesperson. Last I went to look at the view (not from the tower because as we know it was SOLD OUT TODAY, but from the upper balcony).
Thursday After class, I returned to my little neighborhood place for ribolitta (wow that is the perfect lunch on a rainy day). The rain continued and continued but I had no way to reach my teacher and cancel dinner so I sloshed out in the pouring rain and met up for pizza at Il Pomodorino. i understand the views are great but it was dark and raining and the cafe roof was leaking and they did not serve wine by the glass soooo....... The Italian conversation was pretty fast and I was lost and it’s a foreshadowing of how Calabria will go. I did learn about Umberto Giunti who was a famous master Sienese forger (related to one of the instructors) and many of his forgeries are hanging in major collections as if they are the originals. After the unification of Italy, the Churches started to close and disperse their Medieval and Renaissance artwork. This dispersed work created a hot market and soon the supply of original work ran out. Because the skills in Siena were still there (working in tempera and gilding) these artists started to create reproductions. They were not trying to create forgeries but of course, some dealers knowing they were fake, passed them off as real where they ended up in some major collections including the Courtald. I fact-checked this story and it totally checked out. Walked home in torrential rain but Siena is more beautiful when the streets are empty.
Friday Last class and last day in Siena. The week of torrential rain sort of put a damper (literally) on things and by today as much as I loved the school and my experience, I was ready to move on. It was hard to enjoy the outdoors with the rain and so many tourists with umbrellas made navigating the streets difficult.. I needed to get a cab over to Mailboxes Etc to lug a bunch of stuff there to ship home and lighten my load down South but since I couldn’t get one—my AirBnB driver--kindly insisted on taking me. Due to the driving restrictions in Siena, we had to take a long roundabout way there which included a breakneck drive through the Tuscan countryside. Got to really see the walls surrounding the city as we drove the entire circumference and we made it home in one piece. Dumped a lot of stuff and voila—ready to take the train to Calabria in the morning. And again, the AirBnB host so nicely took me to the train station first thing in the morning. Really appreciated that.
Thank you for the encouragement everyone. @Joan I am sorry that my portrayal of SOME Americans is disconcerting but I do think that when you travel in another country some etiquette is required.
Tuesday It’s been raining quite a bit on and off. Had a gelato in front of the Duomo. Went over to join a Downton Abbey Scone party but found myself helping a classmate Niek clean out his refrigerator because the mansplainer roommate left rotting fish and food behind. I made some whipped cream and then when the very lovely posse of 18-year-olds from school arrived speaking only German and snap chatting, I split. Went to go check on how my sister's scarf was coming along and saw it on the loom almost finished and did some teleworking.
Wednesday My classmate Pierre and I went to the Wednesday weekly market after class. As a man, he insisted his paper map was better than Google Maps and and would not believe me that Google maps are really a great way to navigate the back streets. Despite me saying, “let’s turn here” – “uhm look, it says turn here” we kept on plowing straight ahead. Finally, finally, finally he agreed to look at my phone and we were 15 minutes out of the way. We backtracked to the market and no loss – lots of crap (ala 99 cents store) was being packed up on trucks.
After we parted ways I headed to the Civic Museum--a beautiful Gothic building--in the hopes of seeing the two famed murals Effects of Good Government and Effects of Bad Government which, surprise were under construction. The building was started in 1297 reusing some pre-existing walls. and was always the center of politics and administrative functions of the Sienese state. The Council of Nine and 500 parliamentary members met here. The Council of Nine was rotated and chosen by lot from Sienese citizens every two months. Because they feared corruption, the Council members had to live in the palazzo to avoid outside influence during their two months of service. Even without being able to see the Good/Bad Government murals the building, the Maestà by Simone Martini and some of the other civic murals were pretty interesting. One of the tourist attractions at the Civic Museum is the long walk up the tower for a spectacular view. But note tickets must be purchased in advance and the sign clearly says in multiple languages SOLD OUT TODAY. As person after person after person came up asking “vorrei un biglietto per la torre,” I understood the peevishness of the ticket salesperson. Last I went to look at the view (not from the tower because as we know it was SOLD OUT TODAY, but from the upper balcony).
Thursday After class, I returned to my little neighborhood place for ribolitta (wow that is the perfect lunch on a rainy day). The rain continued and continued but I had no way to reach my teacher and cancel dinner so I sloshed out in the pouring rain and met up for pizza at Il Pomodorino. i understand the views are great but it was dark and raining and the cafe roof was leaking and they did not serve wine by the glass soooo....... The Italian conversation was pretty fast and I was lost and it’s a foreshadowing of how Calabria will go. I did learn about Umberto Giunti who was a famous master Sienese forger (related to one of the instructors) and many of his forgeries are hanging in major collections as if they are the originals. After the unification of Italy, the Churches started to close and disperse their Medieval and Renaissance artwork. This dispersed work created a hot market and soon the supply of original work ran out. Because the skills in Siena were still there (working in tempera and gilding) these artists started to create reproductions. They were not trying to create forgeries but of course, some dealers knowing they were fake, passed them off as real where they ended up in some major collections including the Courtald. I fact-checked this story and it totally checked out. Walked home in torrential rain but Siena is more beautiful when the streets are empty.
Friday Last class and last day in Siena. The week of torrential rain sort of put a damper (literally) on things and by today as much as I loved the school and my experience, I was ready to move on. It was hard to enjoy the outdoors with the rain and so many tourists with umbrellas made navigating the streets difficult.. I needed to get a cab over to Mailboxes Etc to lug a bunch of stuff there to ship home and lighten my load down South but since I couldn’t get one—my AirBnB driver--kindly insisted on taking me. Due to the driving restrictions in Siena, we had to take a long roundabout way there which included a breakneck drive through the Tuscan countryside. Got to really see the walls surrounding the city as we drove the entire circumference and we made it home in one piece. Dumped a lot of stuff and voila—ready to take the train to Calabria in the morning. And again, the AirBnB host so nicely took me to the train station first thing in the morning. Really appreciated that.
Oct 16th, 2022, 03:43 PM
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Took the long train ride from Siena to Rossano, Calabria where the relatives I never met were picking me up. Outside of Rome, the landscape changed (along with the wealth and the amount of corrugated steel and rusted cars). The closer we got to Calabria, the more the mountains met the sea with incredible dramatic scenery. Italians are pretty nice overall. I shared my seat with a meticulously dressed businessman from Naples who spoke no English but was doing an awful lot of sighing, tsking, and shaking his fist at his laptop. I asked him if the café car was to the front or back of the train. He heaved himself up, sighed “Venga” and proceeded to lead me 5 cars down to the Café personally, and left me with a sigh as he headed back to his seat. The relatives (K, F and P were waiting).
A little background: My grandmother, from Naples, immigrated to the US at age 16 and had an unhappy arranged marriage. And then she met my "grandfather." He was in the US as a journalist and speaking out against the fascists through lectures and a newspaper that he published. At a speaking engagement they met and well, one thing led to another. My mother was born and two weeks after my grandfather was deported due to working without papers. When he got back to Italy the fascists took away his travel papers and told him if he wrote again he would be executed. My grandmother was still married. She left her husband and went to work in a factory. They wrote letters but was he really going to want a divorcee to come to Southern Italy with an illegitimate child? In the 1930s? I don't think so. So he married his childhood sweetheart and became a veterinarian and had two sons and two daughters who are my mothers brothers and sisters.
Meanwhile my grandmother living in the US had trouble finding childcare. She divorced her husband who was physically abusive and found a family through her church who took care of my mom while she worked. But one day, when she came to pick mom up and they refused to give her back and so she my mother was raised by this other family--who I consider my family. My mom always thought her father was the arranged marriage husband guy--but when my grandmother passed away--it was revealed he was not. She was told her biological father was executed by a firing squad and all we had was his name and his town because an Aunt dramatically threw all of his letters into my grandmother's coffin.
It was Covid and being trapped at home when I decided to find out the truth about him. He died fairly young in 1962. He was a veterinarian and lived in a small mountain town in Calabria. Through crazy sleuthing too convoluted to explain I connected with cousins, an Aunt and an Uncle (and one Uncle seemed to not want to deal with this illegitimate side of the family). They had found my mother's photo in their father's drawer when he died but his wife threw away all the letters she found from my grandmother . Through my Italian friend translating we did a zoom call and I met them all. And now the meeting of the family.....
A little background: My grandmother, from Naples, immigrated to the US at age 16 and had an unhappy arranged marriage. And then she met my "grandfather." He was in the US as a journalist and speaking out against the fascists through lectures and a newspaper that he published. At a speaking engagement they met and well, one thing led to another. My mother was born and two weeks after my grandfather was deported due to working without papers. When he got back to Italy the fascists took away his travel papers and told him if he wrote again he would be executed. My grandmother was still married. She left her husband and went to work in a factory. They wrote letters but was he really going to want a divorcee to come to Southern Italy with an illegitimate child? In the 1930s? I don't think so. So he married his childhood sweetheart and became a veterinarian and had two sons and two daughters who are my mothers brothers and sisters.
Meanwhile my grandmother living in the US had trouble finding childcare. She divorced her husband who was physically abusive and found a family through her church who took care of my mom while she worked. But one day, when she came to pick mom up and they refused to give her back and so she my mother was raised by this other family--who I consider my family. My mom always thought her father was the arranged marriage husband guy--but when my grandmother passed away--it was revealed he was not. She was told her biological father was executed by a firing squad and all we had was his name and his town because an Aunt dramatically threw all of his letters into my grandmother's coffin.
It was Covid and being trapped at home when I decided to find out the truth about him. He died fairly young in 1962. He was a veterinarian and lived in a small mountain town in Calabria. Through crazy sleuthing too convoluted to explain I connected with cousins, an Aunt and an Uncle (and one Uncle seemed to not want to deal with this illegitimate side of the family). They had found my mother's photo in their father's drawer when he died but his wife threw away all the letters she found from my grandmother . Through my Italian friend translating we did a zoom call and I met them all. And now the meeting of the family.....
Last edited by RubyTwins; Oct 16th, 2022 at 03:48 PM.
Oct 16th, 2022, 05:45 PM
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Thank you for sharing. I feel so sad for your Grandmother. I hope she eventually found some love and happiness. It must have been heartbreaking to have your Mom taken from her.
What a journey you are taking, physically, emotionally, spiritually.
What a journey you are taking, physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Oct 16th, 2022, 07:05 PM
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Fascinating! I look forward to hearing more about the family reunion.
I, too, found some interesting family history when I did some sleuthing. I have to wait until one family member passes away before I feel I can tell tell my siblings what I have learned. I didn't find the info all that scandalous but prior generations felt differently.
I, too, found some interesting family history when I did some sleuthing. I have to wait until one family member passes away before I feel I can tell tell my siblings what I have learned. I didn't find the info all that scandalous but prior generations felt differently.
