A welcomed shorter walk marred only by long sections along the Via Cassia which is heavily trafficked. As we moved out of Tuscany into Lazio we noticed a marked degrade of the trails, as though weed whackers have yet to be discovered. But the walk through the Val di Chiana is beautiful.
We spent much of the day listening to podcasts on the latest news on the war in Ukraine. A lot of British stuff (the Telegraph has some good reporting), Daily Kos, which has some the the best in depth, front line reporting (I kid you not) and the American press. I am somewhat stunned by the nonchalant treatment of the latest Russian threats to detonate tactical nuclear weapons. Maybe we should not take the threats seriously but Russia signals its intents early and usually sees them through.
But here we are in the center square of Acquapendente, bustling with people, young and old, Aperol spritzers at hand with the generous appetizers served with a drink after 5 pm: pizza, prosciutto, olives, chips and crostini. Life is good.
These 2 phases are usually combined with the stop in Radicofani instead of Ponte Riga but we decided to break in Gallina so we could approach Radicofani in the morning rather than at the end of the day. Reaching Radicofani (with the accent on the “fa” like former Italian PM Fanfani) entails a brutal 3000 ft climb in 4 km , something devoutly to be avoided in 96 degrees.
We reached Radicofani, had a delish lunch and then stretched out and napped on park benches in a large shaded park with spectacular views of the Val D’Orcia and sweet breezes. It was a good day.
We passed a single digit, 8th or 9th century Romanesque church dedicated to St Blaise a doctor who was martyred in the 4th century. He was a physician who refused to renounce his Christian beliefs so the Romans first peeled his skin with metals combs used to comb wool. When he didn’t die he was decapitated. Cause of death unknown. He is the patron saint of wool combers and doctors.
One hates to complain about the weather but walking in 90 degree heat for 5 hours with significant elevation gain will change your perspective. The heat just saps the energy out of you. When we finally arrived at San Quirico D’Orcia we were spent. The journey, however was spectacular. In the heart of Montalcino country, the town up on a hill overseeing its Brunello producing domain laid out in neat rows below. We received innumerable invitations to visit wine sellers for a wine tasting but wisely restrained ourselves. We will leave that to another occasion. We drank lots of water instead.
San Quirico, like many towns in wine regions, is well managed and provisioned. Lots of restaurants, Cafe/Bars, an information office open till late, Churches open at all hours, and enough wine tasting cantinas to quench the thirst of invading Huns. It also exhibited imposing sculpture by an artist we first noticed in Siena, Emanuel Giannelli, of a giant bronze figure searching the skies with what look like virtual reality lenses, in both cases place just outside the Roman Porta. The modern equivalent of a Roman Centurion.
We enjoyed Siena immensely, touring the Duomo early in the morning before the crowds, pausing for some time to enjoy Michelangelo’s sculpture of St Paul set without fanfare or announcement by one of the side altars. The Duomo is spectacular, a testament to the engineering and artistic prowess of 12th century Sienese. We then retired to the Campo for a lunch under misting umbrellas to watch the Contrada practices in preparation for the Palio July 2. It is all taken so seriously.
We left Siena very early because of the long walk and to beat the heat later in the day. The second goal remained illusive. This is such a beautiful part of the country but the long white roads up and down the ridges through the vines offer no shade. We were thankful for the scirocco blowing from the south.
Buonconvento is a small town tucked into Brunello country. Only a couple of thousand people but the museum houses Duccio and Lorenzetti paintings that, unfortunately, we were not able to see because the museum was closed when we arrived and left.
The ascents and descents roll along over white roads and, at times, muddy trails in the forests. We finished listening to Tim Snyder’s Bloodlands which we recommend to everyone who wishes to better understand the war in Ukraine. The contrast between the history of mass killings by Hitler and Stalin and the breathtakingly beautiful scenery we was jarring.
We stopped briefly in Montereggione for a Shacherrato (shaken iced coffee) and finally arrived in Siena at 6:30 during an anti-vax protest apparently convened because Dr Fauci is receiving an honorary degree from the University of Siena. The city, with its 1000 year old duomo, campo and tower, is so rich in history and art that we would have to spend at least a week to properly appreciate it. As it is, this is our first, and only, 2 night stay and we will do a lot of sitting and foot resting instead of touring. Our respite will be accompanied by trumpets and drumming in the streets of the Contrade practicing in preparation for the Palio July 2.
The North African Anticyclonic High has settled over the center mediterranean bringing hot air to much of Italy. The heat will build up over the coming week, expecting temps to climb to 100 later in the week. We will arrange to start earlier and take cover mid day.
We are in Chiantishire, greeted at every turn by “Bion Journo” or “Bionah Sayrah”. San Gemignano was a shock at first, throngs of tourists fighting over their slice of pizza “What’ s on the Putinaceca” and “Can I have that without the anchovies.” But as evening came and the town empties out we could appreciate its beauty and grace. How Italians are able to preserve these Middle Aged gems and still provide all the conveniences and curations that cater to the tastes of modern visitors is a wonder. And not just one, but one after the other and each unique and impressive in its own way. San Gemignano, known for its towers, is a vibrant and exciting town that attracts thousands every day. A really charming and richly attired. We liked it.
The route from San Gem, as we call it, to Strove crossed the Elsa River 5 times, no bridges and only a guide rope to aid in the crossing. Some of the crossings were challenging due to high waters. Ropes can help only so much. Otherwise we made it to Strove by evening. The town has a population of 80 or so but, you guessed it, we were able to find a great little restaurant with a fine wine list. Italy is just that way.
Another wonderful week. This time our wanderings brought us to Tuscany. The week’s weather has been wet, not a big problem for us, we don our raincoats and our waterproof boots, however the puddles linger and paths remain slippery and muddy and more challenging for days.
My trekking strategy is to follow the exquisite choreography of Edward’s steps – his ballet like movement gliding seemingly effortlessly, an arabesque here and a pirouette there. We interact in a variety of local tableaus. Coming down on a particularly challenging path reaching for bamboo stalks the size of a fist along the path we were delighted to hear music in the distance. As we approach we saw a tent and neatly covered chairs in rows and the voices of a cheering crowd as “We are Family” entertained a wedding party. Further along as we entered a narrow pathway out of town we were passed by 2 cyclists. Their animated conversation was about food. One cyclist yelling “Molto importante, pomodori piccoli.” His companion muttered a response but was corrected loudly “No, no, no, no, piccoli pomodori sono molto importanti.” As they cycled into the distance I could hear a repeating “No, no, no, no.”
For me it is impossible not to feel conspicuous. Perhaps it is the walking stick, my sartorial splendor, the sweat, maybe the blank stare from fatigue. Often when we enter a town we find a congregation of older men, perhaps pensioners, who glance up from their game of Scopa, long enough to render a judgement. There is a term, “umarell” , that refers to a man who stands at the edge of a construction site, pants resting just below his breastbone and hands clasped behind his back, offering advice to the construction workers. These are the seated version.
Tuscany offers endless stunning views and chiming church bells marking the passage of time and our progress. The new challenges are the serial ascents to hill top towns, climbing 400 or 500 feet 4 or 5 times a day. In fact I have observed people from my car walking on these toads wondering why are they doing that? Are they crazy?
We arrived in San Gemignano today, a vibrant town packed with visitors. It looked like an Italian Medieval Pavilion you would find at Disney world. Two days to Siena.
All day we walked around in a renaissance landscape painting, replete with undulating paths lined with cypresses, Roman pines, vineyards and wheat fields. If serenity can manifest itself on the ground we walk, we can be said to have moved through the most serene and tranquil reality imaginable. Paula called it a caricature of itself, this simple but iconic landscape beauty, but not a cliche.
On our way out of San Miniato we stopped at an Alimentari that would put Dean and DeLuca to shame. A WW2 photo of the bombed street in front of the store hung on the wall. When I asked who dropped the bombs the owner shrugged and said “history is history you cannot change it, it’s only a story.” Later in the day we were at the laundromat taking care of three weeks of horse doo do smelling clothes, where we met the elderly gent that manages the place. “This is the most communist area of Italy, I am a communist, but we thank Americans for liberating us. Biden is making a big mistake not giving Ukraine what it needs to beat back those Russian mascalzoni. Putin is just a thug. Oh and Berlusconi was a great man.” The obit in Corriere Della Sera recounted how when Berlusconi met Pope JP 2 he said: “You and God are like me and AC Milan, we always win.” Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.
We walked along parts of the original cobble-stoned Via Francigena. In the rain we ran into two French women, who weren’t inclined to return a greeting, a German couple who were well attired for a hike but were using paper maps and a lone Italian fellow who was lollygagging along the the trail all as we roamed rolling Tuscan hills and, finally, crossed the Arno.
San Miniato the mediaeval hilltop town where we spent a restful night, is perched on a cliff with commanding views of the valley below. It is quite a lively town, with half a dozen upscale trattorias and bars with ultra modern decors. Let’s Face the Music and Dance wafted out the doors of one where, as we passed by the kitchen, we glimpsed the chefs dancing with frying pans.
The Duomo, a 12th Century structure, betrays alarmingly deceitful baroque trompe l’oeil. Next to one of the side altars stands a dignified testament to the 55 Italians who were killed under American artillery while taking refuge in the church where they thought they would be safe.
Walking the Via Francigena 