So,
we’ve parked up in friendly Aire type place and map in hand we attempt to find
the town. This involves heading towards the train station and then taking the
stairs, escalators and travelators to infinity and beyond; they go up and up
and on and on. We arrive gasping at the top, dying for fresh air, but it’s
worth it, we are deposited almost in front of the ‘First Gate’. The view and
the feel of the place do much to restore the three Cs (cool, calm and
collected) and a little further on the Gate of Cammolia welcomes you to Sienna
with the words: “More than its doors, Siena opens its heart to you”. This
proves to be the case beyond doubt. We are smitten totally. Siena may well be
the finest place on earth. The
personality of the place instantly resonates in your soul, how could Florence
ever have been a rival? Siena wins hands down. We stroll down the Via Cammolia
towards the Campo: scene of the Palio and drenched in history. It’s buzzing but
not too busy, we stop for a drink overlooking the shell shaped Piazza and find
it ever more enchanting. The buildings are austere and immutable, beautiful and
strict, but there’s an undercurrent of humanity and passion that saturates the
place with all the contradictions of life and God, endeavour and glory,
humility and grace. It’s a magical place. We treat ourselves to dinner in the Trattoria
Papei around the corner, the workmen are labouring furiously next door to build
everything necessary to house the celebratory dinner from the Palio that will
take place in a month. This is at 8pm at night, surely they can knock off by
now?
Their
industry becomes apparent when we nosey through a guide book and see the extent
of the celebrations they are catering for. Siena does it large, no mistake!
Wonderful
dinner, successfully stole an ashtray and half a bottle of wine, romance and
chicanery living happily side by side, we feel very Sienese.
Wandering
home we fall upon a Mangiandanda; we pause for a while to take in the atmosphere,
rows of tables laden with food, dancing, revelry, fun.
We
try to leave but then two minutes around the corner, near the innocent First
Gate (innocent? Not so much!) we are embroiled in a live band extravaganza,
more dancing and revelry and Staropramen on tap.
This does not bode well. We
drink, we sing, we struggle in flip flops, we admire Mr “I can play any instrument’
man and we finally leave, stumbling towards those stairs, escalators and
travelators that take us back to our rightful position down below.