We have a beautiful, winding drive through Tuscany, climbing winding roads as we look out over vineyards and olive groves. You have Venice and Rome, but I think this is what most people picture as the Italian countryside and certainly what places like Olive Garden attempt for recreate.
Our first side stop is San Gimignano, the town of 100 Towers. Well, according to my guide book, currently just 13 and maybe once as many as 70. The towers were built both as defense and to show off wealth. It sits on the side of a mountain and so it is a hefty hike to the main square where there is a cistern.
We spend about an hour inSan Gimignano, just wandering around the Medieval Streets. They are narrow and either go up or down. None are flat. Even though it is drizzling rain, Mario has timed our arrival very well. By the time we gather to leave, the tourists have started to arrive in full force. I grab a gelato from the place that has multiple times won the world's best gelato title. It's like the Baskin Robbins of gelato. I try white chocolate. That may be my new favorite, but it is the only place I have seen that flavor. As we walk down, the sun breaks through the clouds for awhile and we have a brilliant view over one of the valleys.
We drive some more, and I am sure that I doze some more. I hate missing the countryside, but I can't help falling asleep on the bus trips. It's almost like I go into survival mode: sleep when you aren't walking. We are headed to a little house/restaurant run by Bruno, a man that Mario knows. There, we have homemade tagillete pasta with meat sauce, soda or wine, salad, and a desert, which is some kind of pudding with cake in it. Very delicious, and we can eat all we want.
Afterwards, this little woman named Eve comes into the dining room to give us a demonstration of how to make the pasta. She mixes flour and four eggs by hand until she has dough. She measures nothing. They then use a roller to stretch the dough. Finally, she uses a special board to cut the pasta into strips. The width of the pasta is what makes it different. Tagilleti pasta is kind of wavy, and that comes from the way it is folded when it is sliced. She lets different people try cutting it. It's a very nice experience. I wanted to squeeze the little woman and take her home with me.
When we leave lunch, we are off the Assisi. Why do Europeans build their towns on the sides of mountains? The climb to the Basilica di San Francesco is brutally steep. They had a concert there the night before, so that distracts from some of the beauty of the Basilica's courtyard. Our local guide, another Daniela, takes us inside the church. Very different from the Duomo. While there are a lot of tourists, the atmosphere seems much more reverential. We see the older church, built in Romanesque style, tomb of St. Francis, and the upper, new church, one of the first Gothic structures built in Italy. She tells us quite a bit about the church and the history of St. Francis. I really didn't know much about him other than the new Pope taking his name and being the first to do so.
Apparently, St. Francis was fairly controversial within the church, but he gained such a large following that the Pope finally decided to incorporate him into the church and give him sainthood. The upper church is the official church story of St. Francis. Of course, when I say THE church, I mean the Catholic Church. At that time, you were either Catholic, a heretic, or a heathen.
Outside, we walk up another steep hill to the main town square where we are turned loose for some exploration. Again, every street is straight up and down. I take a look around the Temple of Minerva because it is first century, which is about the time period for the class I am currently taking. I really didn't know what else to do for an hour and a half, and the steep streets were very daunting for me, so I stayed close to the square. I did go into a little church where there were only about four people. I don't know if they were playing a recording or if a choir was practicing, but it was so peaceful, so I just sat down and had some contemplative time. I then lit a candle in memory of my Aunt Barbara.
Harlea commented on everybody having to pay for everything inside the church. She felt it went against its purpose as a house of worship. These old churches need to be maintained and preserved, I reminded her. Giving an offering with lighting the candle is another way to honor God. Also, I pointed out that a group of teenagers would light candles without really thinking about why they were doing it. I did ask Mario how locals who wanted to go pray at places like that handled it. He pointed out that the Duomo, for example, was too busy for prayer. They would go to one of the smaller churches. They would go to the Duomo for Sunday mass. But, also, the guards would recognize the locals and let them in if need be.
I picked up some itch ointment from a pharmacy because the Mosquitos had devoured me in Jesolo. I shopped through the tacky souvenir shops looking for pins for my collection and was amused at the number of things with the image of the new pope on it. I wonder if visitors to Assisi has increased since he took Francis's name.
We drove to the hotel, and dinner was festive with a group of Polish students also in the dining room with us. We had egg plant, which I tried for the first time. It was grilled, and I thought it was a little bland. I put some Parmesan cheese on it and it was better. I wouldn't mind it as part of a larger dish, but probably not as a solo main course.
I walk down the dark creepy road to take some cool pictures of Assisi all lit up at night, but went back to the hotel to prepare for tomorrow. Tomorrow, our bus cannot get to our hotel, so Mario wanted us to just pack an overnight bag. Tomorrow, more driving and Pompeii, which in light of my class, I am really looking forward to seeing. We are going back in time, I guess. Florence was Renaissance, San Gimignano and Assisi more Medieval, and Pompeii Ancient Rome. I just hope all these hills have prepared me for the seven hills of Rome.
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