Well, the halfway point of my trip has come and gone—how is that possible? I have, obviously, been keeping busy. There’s just so much to marvel at here, and my school sometimes puts on lectures and trips (last week, there was an olive oil tasting, and over the weekend I went to Montepulciano, Cortona, and Pienza), and as the saying goes, time flies when you’re surrounded by some of the most profound beauty that the world has to offer and constantly awash in new and interesting experiences. (That is the saying, right?)
I’m short on time and, actually, I’ve covered many of the historical details before, so there won’t be too much explanation in this post.
On Friday, I visited the Basilica di San Domenico. This cathedral, built in medieval times to venerate St. Catherine of Siena (and preserve her thumb and skull), has one of my favorite church interiors—it’s dim and gray, without pillars or significant frescoes, and the ceiling is flat and unremarkable, but it is tall and open and peaceful, and sound does not carry except from a few particular places. It is extremely contemplative, leaving you to focus your own thoughts rather than trying to draw your mind to greatness with elaborate art and spectacle.
There are no photos allowed inside the church, and unfortunately, the outside is not very interesting to me. Still, it’s a perfect example of the color of the Senese brick that was so ubiquitous in its medieval architecture, and against the brilliant spring sky, surrounded by cypresses and pines, it is a quintessentially Italian sight.
I wandered down the hill just past the church a bit to see where the staircase led (nowhere hugely noteworthy, except possibly Alma Domus, a nun-run hotel that I had wanted to stay at last year but missed out on).
A few blocks from San Domenico is the house where the beloved Santa Caterina grew up. Over time, it has been restored and transformed into a chapel in her honor, with each room containing paintings, statues, and frescoes depicting miraculous events in her life. Once again, no photos were allowed inside, but the courtyard is lovely.
On Saturday, I took the extra-urban bus to San Gimignano, one of the better-known Tuscan villages, with a distinct—and sometimes overplayed—medieval character. San Gimignano is famous for its towers; fourteen remain where sixty once stood, most part of the fortified homes of squabbling noble families. The oldest towers date from the 900s; by the Renaissance, however, towers had fallen out of fashion due to the development of cannons and other forms of weaponry capable of knocking them down.
Piazza della Cisterna, one of the larger and more commercial open spaces in this little hill town:
In Piazza del Duomo, with the Palazzo Pubblico (the civic/governmental palace), Torre Grossa, and the Duomo:
Have any of my readers played Assassin’s Creed II? You know those funny square holes that are spaced at regular (convenient) intervals along all the towers and walls? Those were probably used to secure beams that supported balconies and other structures. Handsome young Florentine assassins might not have been able to use them to climb, but they could probably have waltzed right up a handy wooden staircase.
Shops throughout town sell famous wines such as Chianti Classico, Rosso or Nobile di Montepulciano, and San Gimignano’s specialty white wine, Vernaccia; you can also find cinghiale (wild boar) sausage, salami, and prosciutto.
The view from where I ate my lunch (a wild boar prosciutto and pecorino cheese sandwich):
Even better, the view from the top of Torre Grossa:
Leaving the Palazzo Pubblico, and back to the steps of the Duomo:
A brief walk from the center of town leads out to a tiny medieval fortress, now a public park filled with olive trees, drenched in sunlight, and with a lovely view of the San Gimignano skyline from atop one of the fortress walls.
Clustered around the fortress are towering pines:
Back into town, I returned to Piazza della Cisterna, bought some gelato, and ate it by the well.
Night begins to fall:
Next up: still more gorgeous Tuscan hill towns (they really are endless).
