Seeing Siena

After a restful night at Casa Lanzarotti and exchanging sad goodbyes with them, we got on the treno and endured a pretty painless 4-hour ride from Borgo Val di Taro changing trains twice at Pisa and Empoli. I asked F if she wanted to see the leaning tower - we could steal an hour and run to see the one of the world's wonders but she'd rather come back again and not rush it. Va bene!

Alla stazione di Siena, I had told the bus ticketing's grouchy office lady and the blur-fuck bus driver that we wanted to go to Via Donzelle (I was pretty sure that I pronounced it right). I even told him its 'vicino la Piazza del Campo' but he kept us on the bus till we ended up at some industrial area called Via Donzelli, 4km outside Siena. Che cazzo! Volevo ucciderlo! (I wanted to kill him)

We couldn't find a taxi or bus, and no one in their cars - nessuno! - stopped to help us, both waving at the roadside. In the end, we asked a lady who was in her casa who said the centro was solo 5mins up the hill a destra. The 5 mins became an impossibile hour with our heavy backpacks up the slopes in the freakin' heat. F almost died climbing this extremely steep 100m slope with her 3kg of proscuitto, 2 bottiglie di Lambrusco and other goodies.

I laughed till I cried but she cursed it was not funny. She, the one with very active sweat glands, was drenched. Finalmente at around 3plus, we found the Piccolo Hotel Etruria in the centro di Siena and they had a room for us at 86E a notte - a good deal considering the sheer proximity to the Piazza del Campo. Starving, we grabbed some pizza to curb our fame and acclimatised to the busy strade and piazza where the towering Torre del Mangia stood firm for eternity.

In the evening, we found the highly-recommended Antica Trattoria Papei (from my Frommer guidebook), located in an open carpark of sorts facing the valleys below. Our boyish waiter Amedeo was molto amichevole and agreed he'd speak to me in inglese while I in italiano. We wasted no time and chowed down on the caprese (6E) and crostini al pate di fegatini di pollo (chicken liver / 3E) - not much to look at but buonissimi with the bottiglia di Chianti.

F left it to me to order our mains - the local specialties of pappardelle al cinghiale (wildboar/ 7E) and a gorgeous coniglio all'arrabiatta (rabbit/ 10E) perfumed with rosemary, pinenuts and olives. Luckily the food and vino kept us warm as the temperature dipped at the outdoor terrace. Going all the way, we ended with a salame al cioccolato (choc sponge roll/ 4E) and macchiato per F, tea for me (all for 51E - less than Peck at Milano!).

Feeling satisfied and generose, we gave Amedeo a 4E tip and in return he brought over 3 shots of limoncello and downed a shot with us as well as handed out the trattoria's card with his name scribbled behind - hilarious! Maybe he was expecting us to look him up again?! After biding farewell to the rich American couple next to us, we couldn't keep our eyes open so we headed back to learn that Pavarotti had passed away. Luckily we didn't go to his hometown Modena becos it'd have been madness.

The next day we decided to take it easy in Siena on sabato (Paolo's compleanno!) instead of making a day trip to nearby Arezzo. Sometimes when you try to pack too much into your itinerary, you won't get to absorb the essence of that place. After colazione at the crowded Nannini cafe and grocery-shopping at a local negozio, our first stop was at the glorious black-and-white marbled Duomo where we spent an hour exploring the dim cavenous interiors whilst admiring the intricate marble inlays and hexagonal dome.

Designed and completed between 1215 and 1263, the medieval cathedral was modelled in black and white, the symbolic colors of Siena, derived from the neri e bianchi cavalli of the city's legendary founders Senius and Aschius, sons of Remus. They had stolen the statue of the she-wolf, breast-feeding Romulus and Remus, from the Apollo temple in Rome - which became the symbol of Siena too (you can spot it everywhere).

Inside everyone was glued to the inlaid marble mosaiced floor, one of the most ornate of its kind in Italy, which depicted scenes from the Old Testament. Completed in 2 centuries (14th-16th c.), about 40 artists contributed to the 56 panels in varying sizes. Interestingly, the uncovered floor could only be seen for 6 to 10 weeks, including Settembre so we were fortunate. The rest of the year, only a few are on public display. Be sure to also pop into the richly decorated Piccolini Library, housing precious illuminated choir books and stunning frescoes painted by the Umbrian Bernardino di betto, Pinturicchio.

Feeling quite hungry now, I asked a shopkeeper for a lunch recommendation and he kindly pointed us to 'Il Ghibellino Osteria' around the corner where a post-baptism lunch was held for an adorable baby girl. The priest was there drinking wine next to a Andy-Garcia lookalike with greasy hair. It was a cosy place manned by 2 men and the prices were very affordable. We were amazed by the amount of shaved black truffles heaped atop F's tagiatelle al tartufo nero (15E) and its aroma was whiffing all around us. I polished my piatto of local pici al ragu del Re (7E) and the contorno di fiori di zucca fritti (fried zucchini flowers/ 4E) easily, washed down with a half-bottiglia of amazingly cheap and good Chianti again.

We then went to Museo dell'Opera www.operaduomo.siena.it to view the original works that used to adorn the duomo's facade and made our way up the Facciatore for sweeping views across the city's rooftops with the other highpoint Torre del Mangia towering afar over the Palazzo Pubblico. The vista here was better than that of the tower, as agreed by F when we climbed up the torre at sunset later.

I warned F that it'd be quite claustrophobic to ascend the 102m tall vertical tunnel as I recounted the 1st time when I did it da sola and nearly had a seizure. Fortunately it was much easier this tinme round. Once at the top, we lingered for the longest time till 6pm while peering dreamily over the edge at the Piazza del Campo and surroundings, bathed in the sun's soft golden glow. At 6pm the bell chimed loudly above us which gave us such a fright! A voice announced through the system that it was closing time and we realised we were the last ones reluctant to leave.

We found Trattoria La Torre at via Salicotto where the sombre-looking but carino nonno was a walking menu and recommended his daily specials to everyone in italian! Fortunatamente per noi, I could order the dark pink-hued beet stracci al ragu and the cinghiale for Ferne. I also couldn't resist a contorno of zucchini stewed in pomodoro, even though he said the wild boar would come with potatoes. His niece filled up a bottiglia with the house Chianti and served it up subito while his husband was visbily churning out plates after plates of pasta and stews from the tiny open kitchen.