9/11 - Trasqua to Siena - 9.92
9/12 - Siena - Rest!
The walk to Trasqua, a villa in the middle of nowhere, took me through parts of Tuscany that were relatively undiscovered by tourists. 
The Colle di Val d’Elsa were quite charming, but were ringed by some industrial sections and busy roads, so I guess they had barely missed out on being a tourist destination themselves. I sat on a large platform with a view of the town below for my lunch, next to an elevator that seemed to be a vital component of the city’s pedestrian traffic. I was tempted to take it, but held back the urge, stumbling down the steep ramp-stairs that had been the primary path up and down the hill for centuries.
By far the most memorable stretch of this walk was the final part, a seemingly endless dirt path up and down hills, with no signs except the signs restricting hunting, which were everywhere. I was about to lose hope, and started scoping out places to pitch my tent, when I saw a lone man walking toward me. I asked him if there was a campsite ahead, and to my relief, he told me it was 200 meters ahead.
The campsite was so remote, I have no idea how anybody would decide to go to it, but on my arrival, saw that it was almost full. Then I found out from the lady that we were in the middle of the Chianti region, and that Trasqua was a vineyard and villa, and it made more sense.
After setting up my tent, I headed to the restaurant in the campground and ate very well, with the typical super-thick spaghetti, called Pici, and a chocolate pear cake that was out of this world. I made friends with the waitress, a pistol from Campania named Pasqualina, and promised to come visit when I reached that area. I had a shot of limoncello on the house, and hit the sack. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, as I was nearing Siena.
Just before bed, I text messaged the girls, telling them where I was going, and asking them to grab my student ID at the internet café in Volterra, should they still be there. Shot in the dark, I thought, but I figured I had nothing to lose.
Trasqua to Siena – a short walk
Leaving Trasqua on my way to Siena, I realized how so many people had made it to this remote campsite. Going the other way, the walk to a large road was short, and the onramp to the freeway just a bit further. However, this walk was really precious for me, as it took me right in the midst of several large vineyards before dumping me onto the road leading into Chianti. I was walking out of Chianti, but was glad to have had the opportunity to see at least a little corner of this world-famous region.
I was on the outskirts of Siena before I knew it, and seeing that I had a luxury of time, stopped to fill up my water bag in a small town called Uopini. There I saw a bar that was just screaming for me to enter. I think it was the advertisement for porchetta (which we all know I like… a lot) as well as the sign saying “sala interna” (indoor seating) with a drawing of an x-ray of a pregnant belly with the silhouette of a baby drinking a beer, that tipped the scales for me.
I had a porchetta sandwich (hold everything but porchetta, please) and a lunchtime beer, which is a rarity, as friends don’t let friends drink and walk. Still, I only had a short way to go (that’s what they all say!), so I savored it as rare treat.
There were only a few more miles separating me from one of my favorites cities in all of Italy, and I was excited to reach the outer walls of the town. I found it much larger than I had remembered, attributing this notion to the fact that I had by now passed through so many tiny villages along the way. When I first saw the view of the historic center from across a valley, I sat for a while taking it all in, recalling happy memories of my previous visits, including one during the famous Palio, a horse race around the main piazza of the town.
A quick word or two seems fitting for Siena’s famous Palio, as this is a delectable little tradition that has continued for hundreds of years. The town is separated into seventeen contrade (singular: contrada), neighborhoods with their own banners, churches, colors, symbols, meeting places, and rich histories. Each contrada has a proud tradition, and represents a horse in the Palio, which occurs twice a year, amid great pomp and revelry. The race is a lightning-quick affair, lasting a minute or so as the horses gallop three times around the Campo. Preceded by hours of sweaty, cramped expectation in the middle of the Campo, the race is followed by a great celebration and days-long partying in the victorious contrada, and deep and heartfelt despair, lamentation, and suggestions of cheating and race-fixing in all the other contrade. There are many other aspects to this unique event, but I am not so knowledgeable as to be able to recount them, and rather than plagiarize from the web, I provide the Wikipedia link for those interested.
Hoping to find a room with the church in the historic center, I made the call, and found it to be very expensive. When calls to the four cheapest hotels in town did not bear any fruit either, I settled for the hostel, which was a bus ride away from the center. As I was eager to take my backpack off and explore the town in peace, I made my way there immediately.
Fifteen minutes on the bus later, I hopped off in front of the hostel, accompanied by five or six other backpack-clad travelers, and got in line. At that very moment of my arrival, who should I see but Franziska and Julia, who were walking toward the door. We were very excited to see one another, and celebrated the happy coincidence of our reunion. As I still had to check in, I agreed to meet them outside, where they were waiting for their clothes to dry, and once I had my room, set to do some washing of my own, using the sink and hanging the clothes to dry.
I then found the girls below, and after waiting for their clothes to dry, we headed into the center of town together. Since it was around dinnertime, we wasted little time in finding a place to eat. As luck would have it, one of the contrade was hosting a huge dinner in a piazzetta for all their residents, and approaching the delicious aromas of roasted meat, we decided to eat there ourselves.
We feasted on sausage, pork steaks, cheese, chickpeas, wine in unmarked bottles (the best kind. Each bottle tasted different!), and I even initiated the girls into the mystical cult of porchetta. By far the best part of this experience, however, was sharing the company of these two girls, with whom I enjoyed the serendipitous coincidence of meeting once again. We passed a wonderful evening together, certainly one of the best of my trip so far, and one that I will always remember fondly.
A day of Lounging in Siena
After eight days of walking 130 miles, I deserved a rest, and was thrilled to spend it with Franka and Julchen in this beloved little city. The three of us had a “traveler’s day,” short on sightseeing but wonderfully full of wandering, exploring, lounging, and laughter. We got off the beaten path, meandered into a psychological hospital with nicely maintained grounds and a good view, marveled at the giant thunderstorm that came from nowhere and even brought hail, and milled around the Campo telling stories and teaching each other German and Italian. Finally, to wrap our day in true traveler fashion, we picked up dinner at the supermarket, and feasted on a table at the hostel. Perfect!
OK, I won’t beat around the bush any longer: I had myself a little romance, in one of the most romantic cities of one of the most romantic regions in one of the most romantic countries. But that’s all your hear from me: what sort of a gentleman would I be if I were to kiss and tell, after all?
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1 comment:
don't ask, don't tell.
So, enjoying every aspect of Italy?
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