There was time for a quick exploration of this most fascinating Medieval city after we checked into our hotel Saturday afternoon. Siena is built on seven hills, just like Rome said the guide. Not only do you have to be careful choosing your route between sights to ensure the least climbing of these hills, there's evidence of dark ages city planning. The plaza's and squares are tilted, some very much so. Good drainage, I suppose, but not very supportive of the 13th Century backhoe and earthmover operators' union. Siena's slanted seashell shaped Piazza del Campo, above, is the site of the twice annual Palio, a bareback horse race that defines the city.
We continued our independent sightseeing around Siena on Sunday morning. This gave us a chance to observe everyday life as well as strange tourist behavior. This rare morning free time was because most of the group had opted for the very early and optional (meaning great additional cost) hot air balloon ride over the Tuscan countryside. Unfortunately for them, it was quite hazy and cold at altitude. (They all reported that the balloon ride, "was nice". I think they actually hated it.) Barbara and I were very glad we could explore Siena more extensively as well as sleep late. Did I mention that Siena is a knockout?
The group reconvened with a local guide after lunch. We learned about how the people of Siena are dominated, obsessed, defined, and otherwise crazy about their couple of times per summer bareback horse race around the main Palazzio. This is a huge seashell shaped open area we had visited earlier. Apparently, this event, Il Palio has been happening since early times (the second race each summer was added in 1701) and involves heavily bribed hired non-local jockeys. Each small neighborhood downtown is defined by an entry in the annual races as indicated by flags and wall medallions. The guide explained that one is born into a neighborhood and can not change affiliation even if they move. "Once a turtle, always a turtle", she actually said. I assume she is a turtle. The neighborhood groups party together (frequently), fight the other neighborhoods (occasionally), and get very excited over the two or three races each summer (really excited, apparently). This is not a town a stranger moves into lightly. Even Dante looks characteristically uneasy as he looks down on one of the squares.
Our walking tour visited the interior of the Siena Duomo, perhaps the most interesting cathedral outside Rome. There's paintings on the floor that rival any in museums, spectacular decorations inside, and a statue of a guy with a beard, that Michelangelo sculpted just before he was summoned to Florence at age 27 to do David. (I couldn't help but notice that Michelangelo avoid the pesky hand and other part size issues in this work by effectively hiding these features.)
Our guided tour of Siena ended with an excellent wine lecture and a visit to a museum dedicated to the annual races. She reminded us that she is a turtle and that she gets very excited about the horse races each summer. Yes, we know, we know, we said.
We ended up the day with a reception and excellent dinner in the wine cellar of the hotel, but despite our early transfer to the airport in the morning we could not resist one last quick walk around our hotel to check out the curious masked dancers and drum line across the street from our hotel. I asked the hotel staff standing in the doorway watching what this was about, perhaps something to do with the horse races? They answered in unison, "No, we don't know what that is." Guess, I'm not a turtle.
We said goodbye to the others and arrived home by early evening Monday.
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