A day in Siena

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After waking up at about 09:00 and having two cups of coffee, we headed down the street to a small cafe on the corner of Via Nazionale and had croissants filled with what appeared to be marmalade, and another coffee. Refreshed, we then headed for Santa Maria Novella station and checked the departures board for the next train to Siena - 11:10. It was 10:55 and we were never going to make it in that queue and we weren't sure if we needed reservations or not. I suspected not as it would be a regional train to Siena, but just in case, Clare took her position in the queue and i dashed over to the platform to find out if our interrail passes would cover us. A nice Italian chap replied in the affirmative and i ran back to get Clare.
You have to fill in your interrail ticket for every journey you take, otherwise they're invalid, and no sooner had i finished filling them in the inspector hopped on board and checked our tickets - phew!
One hour and thirty-eight ,inutes later we were in Siena.
We found we had to get a bus to the centre of Siena, but this proved to be a bit tricky as when we follozed the signs for the bus stop, we ended up in the toilets of a small shopping centre. Once we finally located the enigmatic bus and paid 4 Euro for a return, we got on and approximately one minute and thirty three seconds later we arrived at our destination.

Siena is a maze of narrow sloping streets. Every window has shutters thrown open onto ancient looking buildings; in many cases the plaster falling away revealing the brick work. This was undoubtedly a very pretty setting and we soon found what we thought to be a very quaint restaurant down a little cobbled street. We took a seat outside to enjoy the sunshine and the buzz of this tidy wee street, and ordered the cheapest pizzas possible.
The pizzas came out and the cheese floated on top of three litres of tomato sauce like solidified fat that has set on top of yesterdays gravy. We ate it, obviously. Well, you would if you'd just been raped over the price. What is worse is that the waiter tried to get an extra 6 Euros out of us. First impressoins are a very powerful thing, and little did he know that these sly and underhand actions leave lasting impressions on unacustomed minds. The mood was not lightened by the fact that the sun had dwindled, clouds had rolled in, and it had started to rain. It was the type of climate change that you could smell, and pretty soon we found ourselves under an archway eating ice cream seaking refuge from a thunder storm. When the rain hadn't subsided after 15 minutes, we desided to brave it, and legged it towards a church we could see at the end of the street - which was closed.
Hugging the walls, we shuffled our way through a labyrinth of streets until we found ourselves at the 14th Century Piazza del Campo facing Palazzo Publico. Even in the rain this was a magnificent sight, although there wasn't a soul in the square as everyone had ran for cover. Like a couple of little lunatics, we darted across the square to get shelter in Palazzo Publico.

Inside the Palazzo we became part of the multitude, huddled together like sheep in a pen. With thunder comes screaming kids...and a screaming Clare, so we headed for a small door that led to the basement and was free to enter. We went down to what seemed like a dungeon, and there was an exhibition of sketches and cartoons from the past fifty years or so. It seemed like the wrong setting for such an abismal display of scribblings, and we decided that the rain was less likely to make us kill ourselves and so ventured back out in search of the Duomo.
We reluctantly bought another umberella, and walked until we came across two entrances leading to the piazza where the Duomo was. Clare chose one way but i though the other would make for a more dramatic entrance. I was right.

The Duomo was, in essence, much like that of Florence, though considerably smaller, and its front entrance resembled more of an English Cathedral than a gothic Duomo. Inside was magnificent. Highly decorative and generously maintained. The floor was beautiful and the pillars were elaborately striped black and white, which lent an ancient Egyptian feel to the place.
Clare had to wear a makeshift shawl as her shoulders were deemed inappropriate.
Despit ethe splendour and lavishness of the Duomo's interior, i couldnt help but think that the interior of the Florentine Duomo would be superior.
This is probably unfair on the Sienese Duomo as it truely was spectacular, but it really was indicative of the nature of Siena.

Siena is a staggeringly beautiful place, highlighted further when the sun finally shone as we re-emerged from the Duomo. Its Piazza del Campo is on par with Piazza della Signoria in Florence, and its streets are as pretty. But as Siena is essentially a minature version of Florence - though in actuality it is not small at all - it struggles to shake off the attention it receives. Siena is the perfect find that you long for on a holiday, with its quirky little balconies with hanging plants and its rustic restaurants down narrow cobbled alleyways. But its problem lies in its ability to maintain the charm it has.
Florence is charming, quaint, quirky, grand and magestic - as is Siena - but, unlike Siena, Florence has all of this on such a scale as can not only cope with the scrum of tourism, but can make it irrelevant. Siena is simply overwhelmed and unfortunately its beauty seems to have become its undoing.
That said, we got the nicest pastry we've had yet on our way back to the bus stop, as we longed to be back in a city that has felt most like home; in a city where there is a feeling of belonging - Florence.

Once back in Florence we went and found a restaurant tucked behind Basilica di San Lorenzo, where i got questionable wild boar with pasta, and Clare got delicious spinach and cheese ravioli. We spent the rest of the night strolling the streets of Florence, absorbing this immense city, getting spectacular photos.
There was a guitarist singing 'Let It Be' by the Uffizi gallery, and people flooded the corner of Piazza della Signoria and sang along.
We had a beautiful night in a beautiful city, exhausted after being on our feet all day, and went to bed looking forward to the Florentine Duomo in the morning.

With Love...Blake and Clare

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