|
San GimignanoMay 21, 2007
|
|
From a distance; towers and a crane
View from the wall
Rooftops and countryside
| We spent Sunday wandering locally, exploring the hills and other small towns around Montelupo. We then decided to try the combination washer-dryer that was in the apartment, in the process becoming convinced that we would never want a combination unit ourselves. After figuring out the complexities, we did a couple of loads of laundry, which took all afternoon and into the evening. So much for any additional sightseeing here! Monday we drove to San Gimignano, a well-known and charming medieval walled city, with 14 of the original 50-some towers remaining standing. We walked around the wall a bit and then went to the cathedral. After buying our ticket to get in, we were diverted by a small plaza near the church entrance, drawn by the sound of music. There was a young man playing a flute, accompanied by a recorded chamber group. He had a harpsichord set up, but we didn't wait around to hear him play that. Another charming Italian interlude! We went into the Duomo, which had the now-familiar stripes of dark and light marble. There were many frescoes on the walls; Ian, whose sensibilities are distinctly secular, said it looked like a tattooed lady. Margaret reminded him of the historic, artistic and religious significance, but he was having none of it! We followed signs to a Museum of Wine, which wasn't open when we got there, but we sat in the plaza nearby and listened to a young woman playing the harp. It was only one of several times we've seen musicians - clearly an important part of Italy's everyday life even today. When the museum opened, it was clearly mostly for tasting and sales, so we left and made our way back to the Piazza del Cisterna (named for the communal well in the center) for lunch. After a late lunch and some more exploring the streets, we made our way out, stopping on the way to buy some wine and cheese at a local shop. On the way home we discovered the peculiarities of finding one's way around in Italy. The road signs point in the direction of either the ultimate town on the road, the nearest town or just a town along the way. And the directional signs don't actually mean "this is the way to . . . .", but "you can get there on this road, eventually". We got hopelessly lost and ended up circling around one rather central town at least twice before we found our way back to familiar territory. We also went through several "one way villages", where the streets are so narrow that there are stoplights at either end to control the traffic, restricting it to one direction at a time. |
Advertisement 
|
