Architecture in Context

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So Architecture in Context is the class that I really don't care for. The first class got me so pumped! I was so excited! and that, my friends, was a false alarm. I like the professor, I like the syllabus, but the actual class is a waste of time. At the beginning of the semester, there were days when I sat in class, near tears, out of shear frustration. Now that I know better, I just do my Italian homework until I hear something the piques my interest (there are no exams so I don't need to pay attention in class).
Needless to say, I was very wary in regards to our first field trip. When I thought of our 3 hour lectures, it made me depressed; when I thought about that class being extended to a 10 hour event, I seriously considered shoving pencils in my ears until the drone of lecture could no longer be heard. And then, the ever-practical and sometimes-optimistic parts of me decided to give this trip the benefit of the doubt. And I'm glad I did, because I enjoyed every minute of it...

First Stop: Pienza

As soon as we arrived, Franco led us through the whinding Medieval streets toward the main piazza. As we past through the quaint little neighborhoods, it was clear that the buildings are all original medieval rowhouses, well-maintained over the centuries. The plaster exteriors are painted in the warm sunny colors typical of Tuscany, accented with green shutters or bright flowers and vines. I loved pienza from the first moment I passed through the medieval gate. When we arrived at the main piazza, Piazza de Pope Pius II, I immediately understood why it was the center of the city. The piazza is dominated by a large Renaissance church simple called il Duomo (The Cathedral). The other three sides are flanked by large palaces, one with a stunning collonade. Franco took us inside, and the interior proved to be just as amazing as the exterior. The play of light against the warm stone, the rustic wood pews; it seemed to be in perfect contrast with the ornate facade. After exploring the church for a few minutes we went back out into the piazza, where I made my discovery...
Despite the beauty of the Cathedral and the the palaces, the most amazing things in the piazza were the alleyways on either side of the Cathedral; if you peer down these little passages, they perfectly frame little vinettes of the Tuscan Countryside. At this point, I had completely forgotten about Franco, and ignoring his explanations, I meandered down one of the alleys. I vaguely recall his instructions to meet at the bus in an hour, but I was too caught up to even care if I were left behind... When I neared the end of the alley and the buildings had faded out of my cone of vision, all that was left was the Tuscan landscape: greens and yellows and browns, dotted with old farmhouses, cypress trees, and a few serpentine dirt roads. It was breathtaking. I just stood there, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. And the in ocurred to me: if it is this beautiful in February, it must be absolutely gorgeous in the spring and summer! And with that thought, a few quiet tears rolled down my face. I didn't even notice at first, my eyes were still glued on the scene before me. I did not notice until the tears rolled under my chin and began to tickle my neck, and even then, I remember feeling confused as to how the tears had gotten there. It was all so amazing, I could not help but cry; it was so beautiful it hurt...
When I returned to the piazza, I realized I had been absent for only a few minutes, and no one had even noticed I'd gone. A few students remained, but most had set out to explore. I felt this intense need to tell EVERYONE what I had just experienced, but I could not even find the words to explain it. I went back through the alley and spent the remainder of my time in Pienza sketching, in futile hopes that I could somehow capture a fraction of the beauty God had endowed on the land.

Taking a Detour

So we are sitting on the bus about 15 minutes outside of Pienza when I see Franco glance at his watch and announce "hey we are 20 minutes ahead of schedule!" Then he immediately began to speak to the driver in rapid-fire-Italian and fire minutes later, he informed us we were making an extra stop. To this day, I have no idea where we were, all I know is that we were in some tiny little town on Via Francigena, a medieval road connecting England, France, Italy, and Switzerland. It begins in Canterbury and ends in Rome, and somehow managed to pass across Toscana.
Franco hopped off the bus while shouting, "Hurry, we only have 20 minutes and I need to show you something!"
He proceeded to plow up the side of a cliff towards this little town perched on top of it, twenty-one students scurrying in his wake. We wound through streets sprinkled with buildings of all kind: medieval, renaissance, neoclassical, romanesque... all so different, and yet all so completely Tuscan. There was precious little time to adequately take in the surroundings, as we powerwalked across the town in Franco's wake. When we arrived at the garden though, we understood his haste. It was a conglomoration of gardening styles, some elements resembled the pruned quality of a French formal style garden, and others were English picturesque. And at the end, weren't we all shocked to find medieval ruins! What used to be a tower lay broken and romanticized in a quiet field. With no one around to scold, we immediately scaled the ruins; we figured if they had survived the elements for this long, a few kids sitting on them for a little while wouldn't hurt anything. Franco let us play for a little bit, and then off we went, powerwalking back to the bus. At least it was downhill this time...

Montalchino

Montalchino is another picturesque little town in Tuscany that traces its origins back to medieval times, if not earlier. It is quaint and beautiful, just like Pienza. The first place we went was a little restaurant called Il Moro, which means "the dark" when translated literally. I'm not sure why this was the name of the restaurant, but I didn't ask questions, I just followed the hungry men into the dining room. I dumped my things at the table and stopped in the little girls room, and when I returned to the table, I had no utensils, no napkin, no plate, and all the bread was gone. I politely asked Franco if he could ask the waiter to bring me a fork and a plate, to which he replied "eat with your hands. As my stomach growled, I desperately tried to get the waiters attention, but given he spoke no English, I was failing in this particular endeavor. I asked Franco again, and I'm pretty sure he heard, but did not answer. I slowly sipped on my first glass of wine. Then a parade of first course dishes came out of the kitchen doors and I asked Franco a third time; this time rude and with an attitude dripping with impatience, accusation and disdain. Within 12 seconds I had utensils, plates, napkins and a waiter tripping over himself to try and gain my approval. Go figure...
As everyone dug into the second course, and I ate my first few bites, Franco reminded us that Montalcino wine was stronger than we were used to, so be careful. I ignored this statement just as I had ignored his command to eat with my hands. It was an all you can eat and all you can drink situation, and so everyone kept piling food on eachothers plates and wine in any glass that needed it. The next thing I know, I'm feeling that pleasant happiness that comes with the early stages of tipsiness. I distinctly recall thinking to myself, "okay Sarah, you're fat dumb and happy, so thats enough." And I pushed my plate and my glass away and that was that. I enjoyed the rest of the meal and the company of my classmates, and by the time the meal was finished, the happy little buzz had faded. I half-wished I'd had one more glass, to steel myself against Franco and his bizarre additude, but decided I made the smart and responsible choice.
Then, I stood up. Smart and responsible MY ASS! How did this happen?! I was fine sitting down, and now that I was standing the world seemed so lovely and happy and I felt so pleasant and bubbly! I knew I wasn't very drunk, but I was definitely shocked, because I knew I was way more buzzed than I should have been on a field trip! Still trying to figure out how the wine had just hit me over the head like that, I casually walked out of the restaurant with my peers. I could still walk in a straight line, and I gave no outward sign of being over-served... that is until I saw Emily. I glanced at Emily who seemed to be in a similar predicament; I could tell because when she drinks she gets very flushed in the face and neck, and she gets this silly little grin on her face. And in that one look, it was all over but the crying.... As that look of understanding was exchanged, I was overcome with an incontrollable case of the giggles that would last until later in the afternoon. And yes, my professor did notice.
The rest of the afternoon passed without a hitch. I managed to go into a wine shop with my friends without breaking out in hysterical giggles; I didn't break anything either. By the end of our free time in Montalcino I had sobered up for the most part; I had gotten rid of the giggles at least. Then we boarded the bus to head back to Florence.

Detour #2

Lo and Behold! Franco decided we were ahead of schedule once again, which I didn't really mind at this point, given that I'd enjoyed the day thus far. And this time, running uphill was not involved. The bus pulled into the middle of nowhere, and it wasnt until we stepped out that we saw our destination. We had arrived at the Abbey of Sant'Antimo and in front of us lay the 12th century Romanesque Church of Sant'Antimo. Built with heavy stone and the traditional Tuscan Truss wood roof, the church has a magnificent air of simplicity and peace. Light filtered in through the strategically placed fenestration, giving the entire church a heavenly glow. It was absolutely stunning. As the day began to fade and the church darkened, we stepped back outside and watched the sun set behind the hills. It was a picturesque ending to a delightful day.

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