In which Sid and Doris visit Siena en route to Cortona and Hermann visits a garage ramp.
The car is brought round (what luxury) and we trickle through the streets where Renaissance artists walked and then we drive out through modern Florence. Mostly we do not opt for the motorway and this means hilly but pretty roads.
At one point we are followed by an aged Panda [clarification: a man driving an old car – D.] and when we pull over for pictures he stops to tell us how much the back is bouncing or something.
When Sid looks underneath one of the exhaust hangers has failed so we plot a garage stop. We find a Euromaster (Michelin) tyre shop, they have a ramp, Sid has the parts, and Mr Google Translate has the method of communication. We wait for a ramp to come free and with the help of a friendly mechanic who incurs the wrath of the lady organiser by working 45 seconds into the mandatory lunchtime shutdown we are on our way into old Siena.
A quick pause for some well-deserved publicity for Euromaster and our local hero who lives up to his brand.
Many of the same artists we saw in Florence came to Siena, but again we have missed them.
There are fine churches with free standing towers. It also has the oldest bank with continuous history, but only just. Banca Monte dei Paschi was founded in 1472, expanded nationally after unification and was eventually owned by a foundation that used the profits to support education and good works in the region. In 1999 it was listed. Unfortunately the owners were not able to control management and they bought up a variety of pre-crippled institutions. To hide their losses they entered into derivatives contracts with Deutsche Bank (of course). Thirteen bank executives went to jail (still there). It is now majority owned by the Italian State. Thus illustrating that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
We take one picture of a frilly church to show that we have been here, but for the rest we refer you to any good guidebook.
Our new friend is the National Geographic Traveler (sic) Guide, which we bought in the English Language bookshop in Turin. It is stuffed full of interesting facts and ideas with not too many pictures or sponsored hotel/restaurant recommendations. In fact, let’s include a picture of that, rather than any more you-could-have-taken-a-better-one pictures of Siena.
More exciting even than Italian banking, Sienna holds horse races in the town square, or triangle as we call it. The town is made up of 17 wards or contrade, each with its identity and pointless rivalries that are fought out in the two August horse races: The Palio. No Palio will be run this year but there are already plans for three next year. Sid and Doris consume a local Panforte nut cake and set off stickily.
Siena was founded by Etruscans, who are celebrated in the Cortona museum, which is where we go next. On the way please share our pleasure in the Asciano police station and silo which are not to be found in any mainstream guidebook as they are not Renaissance enough.
Sid and Doris head for the town museum, eager seekers after Etruscan culture. The museum visit follows S&D’s traditional pattern of intense interest in the first couple of rooms followed by a slight speeding up with each following room… which ends up feeling like an Escape Room exercise as the first 19 rooms on the Etruscans make way for more random exhibits – a four poster bed, a set of halberds, some fantastic silver, many unexplained and rather dusty paintings, and after about four flights of steep stairs, a dead end in a rather useful library if you want an impressive backdrop for your next Zoom meeting. The only way out turns out to be back through all 30+ rooms. [A high-res version of the library picture is yours if you want it, please msg me – D.]
Crushed by culture Sid and Doris retreat to pre-prandial beers and dinner overlooking an enormous vista and are very glad they did not cycle up.
For the curious reader, we finish this entry with an utterly mysterious painting from the town museum, which shows the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus looking on complacently as souls are weighed and found wanting, a map of Cortona fails to capture her attention, and cherubs are crushed under her skirts. Some kind of orc is being casually speared at the bottom of the picture, although the sword-wielder appears unaware of the fact.