A Treasure

In case nobody has mentioned it before in guide books or travelogues – Siena is a treasure. The intrepid foursome left the hotel and headed for the train station where for about 6 Euros each we booked our train to Siena, and some 90 minutes later we were pulling in to the railway station on the outskirts of the medieval gem. A short bus ride deposited near the centre and we set off to explore (guided by book that we had ordered from Amazon a few weeks back).

Florence is a throbbing, vibrant, and cultured city with plenty to see and do., but Siena seems lost in the mists of time and is like wandering through a film set – but for real. Whilst there were thousands of tourists, it never seemed rushed, or frantic – it just absorbed the people and folded them into its streets and piazzas so that they became part of the scenery rather than distractions from the scenery.

We wandered down to the Campo, famous for the horse racing held round the square in July and August, and settled down for a coffee and to watch the the city shrug at the latest influx of tourists and continue its unique existence. Once caffeinated we headed out with cameras in hand and made our way across the square towards the bell tower, then round through the alleys and walkways marvelling at every new twist and turn.

 

 

By lunch time we had found our way near to the old fish market – behind the main Campo and found a small restaurant where we were seated by the crusty old owner. Examination of the menu was a treat but when the Silver Vixen and Betty Rubble ordered the mixed cheese plate each, the owner put his foot down and said “No”. One is enough. And so it proved to be. The meal in general was excellent, if a little rustic. The fine spots of Balsamic vinegar that decorated certain t-shirts were an unexpected extra. As we drew to a close we ordered some coffee – espresso, and Americano was greeted with approval, but when the ladies requested Cafe Latte – he muttered something about Ba mbini under his breath and headed off to get the order. He did leave a carafe of grappa on the table which the Gorse Fox sampled with a degree of trepidation… and whilst rough and strong the small sip that he had proved no problem.

It was whilst we were in the area of the fish market that Barney Rubble realised he had forgotten his spare camera batteries. Betty gave him a piece of her mind that was spare at the time. GF, sighed with relief that it wasn’t him being forgetful again. He volunteered to take any photos that were required, but this was not necessary in the end.

 

After lunch the zig-zag tour of the town continued, the highlight of which was the Duomo – the Cathedral. A masterpiece of dark and light marble it gleamed in the afternoon sun, looking quite magical. Tourists manoeuvred to get the best photos and wandered round gazing at the building. One Japanese tourist rolled ontto his back and started snapping away from the ground whilst pointing at every carving and embellishment. 

Unfortunately a cyclists’ group were holding a rally of some description and poor rock music was blaring out across the square, rather breaking the ambience.

Come late afternoon we headed back to the station and caught the train back to Florence. We changed quickly and went straight back out for dinner at a local restaurant (almost next to the hotel). It was, without a doubt, the best meal we had had during the stay, and was enhanced by knowing it would only take 30 seconds to get back to hotel!.