Wednesday, 22 September – Los Angeles to Frankfurt
I love to travel, but I can’t say that I have much affection for airports or airlines. We arrived at LAX a good 2½ hours before our scheduled Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt, and checked in, but were told “no aisle seats for you” because we hadn’t made any seat reservations in advance. Boo! We’d made the reservations over six months in advance and couldn’t get assigned seats then. So, we figured we’d at least try to get seats for the return flight, over two weeks in advance, at a different counter – and there were told we couldn’t get seats in advance because they’re held for assignment on the day of departure.
What?!!
How I dislike inconsistency! We argued with the guy as to why one person said you had to do it in advance and then he was saying we couldn’t (including trying to pin him down when he said that doing things over the Internet wasn’t any good!), and while we still didn’t get any seats for our return, we miraculously got our seats changed for the flight over. Robert said they must hold the seats for people who complain.
So, at any rate, we awaited departure for Tuscany; we hoped we would not miss our connection in Frankfurt to Florence (we have only one hour, which didn’t seem bad when we made the reservations, but sitting at LAX, it suddenly seemed way too short). Footsie and Phoebe were taken to the vet’s for boarding; poor Foots with all of his special food and medicine for his kidney condition (chronic renal failure). It was hard to leave them both.
It was not hard to leave work, though. Robert had been overloaded the last few weeks, and I was stuck at Hughes Space & Communication in El Segundo despite my manager’s knowing that I didn’t want to commute there. I guess he just didn’t care. I thought I may not last much longer at Collective Technologies if the work situation there didn’t improve.
All this and thinking about music, too; not happy with the Mansfield Chamber Singers, debating rejoining RAND’s carolers – sigh. A week of cycling in Tuscany sounded like a really good antidote to all this mess. I only hoped we’d get there in one piece!
Thursday, 23 September – Frankfurt to Florence to Pisa
We made it! A long and bumpy flight got us to Frankfurt, where we shaved a good 15 minutes off our already tight connection time of 55 minutes. Still, we managed to get off the plane (from nearly the last row) and thread our way from concourse B to A via a very quick “fast track” customs counter for connecting flights…only to find our flight to Florence delayed. We didn’t mind too much, though; the delay made it much more likely that our luggage would actually make it onto the flight, and gave Robert a chance to call his cousin Renate Wendt in Florence (with a credit card phone!). We hoped the delay wouldn’t result in her waiting too long for us at the Florence airport.
Florence turned out to have a fairly small airport (Tucson, in comparison, seemed much larger). Our plane, a small (80-seat?) Arvo, landed almost an hour late. Our bags (mercifully) were nearly first off the plane, and in an absence of customs (the benefit of travelling between European Community countries) we zipped right out to meet Renate. She recognized Robert immediately; I think we’d have guessed who she was, too. Tall and very slim, about 40, with short light brown hair; we immediately fell into speaking German.
We drove out of the airport area – it was fairly unexciting – and took the “Landstrassen” (mostly tight four-lane roads) to San Miniato, a small village with a fine example of an old tower on top of a hill. Renate said that unlike Germany, where the hilltops were reserved for castles and monasteries while the people lived in the valleys below, in Italy the villages were all on hilltops. Could make for interesting cycling!
A little gelato in a small café, and we went on to Pisa, Renate doing a great job of threading her way through the crazy streets and traffic to find our hotel, the Grand Duomo. We planned to meet her and her family on Saturday.
Our hotel was but a short walk down the street from the cathedral (Duomo) and the famous Torre Pendente, or Leaning Tower. Our room faced the narrow, busy street; from the window you could hang out, look right, and see the tower…leaning right towards us. Below us were restaurants with outdoor seating, lots of people milling about; there were also many people hanging out their own green-shuttered windows (some with pretty flower boxes) up and down the street, keeping an eye on the proceedings. Vespas and their clones zipped by incessantly, people shouted greetings to one another…when they weren’t smoking, that is. It all seemed pretty “in your face”, and it was great!
Our first order of business in our room, though, was checking out Eurosport on television, looking for the Vuelta a España, but all we found were interminable auto racing highlights. Although we would have liked simply to have rested, we forced ourselves out to search for an ATM and a light dinner. Unfortunately the machine across the street from the hotel didn’t like my credit union card (and wouldn’t take my Versateller card), so we wound up at a more traditional exchange (e.g. ripoff). Dinner followed at a sidewalk café, where the single-serving pizzas were a lot larger than we expected.
Friday, 24 September – Pisa
We both slept nearly 11 hours – Robert’s 6:00 AM “I haven’t showered in days” itch-fest notwithstanding. :) No need for an alarm; the slowly increasing roar of Vespa engines would do it for anyone. We checked out Eurosport after breakfast to see when the Vuelta would be on. Still no cycling news, but more auto racing, this time Ford Fiestas and Vauxhalls. Comical!
We later found out that there would indeed be an hour of cycling on at 2:00 PM, so we walked the Piazza del Duomo in the morning, visiting the camposanto, baptistery, and Santa Maria Assunta cathedral, not to mention getting many good looks at the leaning tower. The tower leaned even more alarmingly than I expected, despite the counterweights and heavy steel cabling. It was also quite interesting to see the attempts by the builders over 700 years ago to “correct” the lean by angling the upper stories in the opposite direction!
The Baptistery was quite beautiful both inside and out. A round structure topped with a dome, its base was built in a Romanesque style while the upper “layers” became Gothic. Inside, the walls exhibit the Tuscan striped look – white marble with bands of dark, greenish marble. The place had great acoustics, too; one of the guides demonstrated the acoustics by singing, using the echo to sing beautiful five-note chords. We walked up the steps to the second and third galleries, from where we had very nice views to the marble floor below, and out over the cathedral to the tower.
A very short walk from the baptistery led us into the cathedral, which had the seemingly requisite scaffolding outside supporting workmen painstakingly cleaning the façade. Inside was pretty amazing, much different from what I’d become used to in Germany. The apse contained a huge mosaic with much gold and bright colors, with frescoes on the sides and very “busy” arches. The ceiling was also ornate and heavily decorated. Everything simply seemed very heavy overall, a far cry from the much-later baroque style.
Outside, it was evident that the tower was not the only structure sinking into the ground; the cathedral looked to be sinking on the east side (tower side) as well. If one followed the line of the top of the first and second floors back to the west, it definitely rose up and was not level. It looked as if some attempt was made to correct this when the third floor was added, as the roofline looked level, and the third floor itself “shrunk” in height as one moved from east to west.
The last monument of the morning was the neighboring camposanto, basically a mausoleum. Much damaged at the end of WWII, it continued to undergo restoration efforts (restoring frescoes, stonework, etc.), some funded by the Getty Museum. (Burning question of the day – just how does one remove a fresco from a wall without destroying it?). Some of the restored frescoes await return to their original locations, including the scary “Triumph of Death”, full of depictions of people dying horribly (in hell?) – heads and arms cut off, bowels ripped out, pitchfork stabbings, a woman being carried off by a satyr, lots of serpents and fire, etc. They must have used this to scare the daylights out of little kids. Eerie to me in particular was the one face looking right at you, while all the others looked away; you could almost imagine him saying, “this could happen to you!”.
We finally found a “good” bank (after one false find) and got more money. Then it was back to the hotel for cycling! Several hours of the Vuelta were aired, a half hour of the previous day’s stage 18, and live coverage of stage 19 to Avila. Jan Ullrich (Deutsche Telekom) was holding his lead, looked as if he would take the yellow jersey through the time trial and into Madrid. Happily, we also noted that the Cycling Road World Championships would begin Monday, 14 October and run all that week! We even gave some thought to running up to Verona to catch some action, provided we could figure out when the time trial would be.
We had a great dinner that evening at the outdoor restaurant right across the street. Carbonara for me, ragú for Robert, a nice table wine, and tiramisu for dessert. Yum!
Saturday, 25 September – Val de Cécina
I never thought I’d be on an Italian train following our Munich experience in 1984, but at 9:09 we were on a little regional train – a locomotive, three cars, and lots of graffiti – that pulled out of the station right on time, headed to Cécina. The cab fare (L14,000) to the train station was more than the train tickets (L11,700)! Renate met us at the Cécina station and drove us, over hill and dale, to her charming house in Castelnuovo Val de Cécina. There we enjoyed a long, lazy afternoon with Renate, her significant other Valdo Frasconi, and their 10-year-old daughter Clara. Son Manuel, a tall, 14-year-old bespectacled basketball player, returned from school at about 2:00 PM. They had a beautiful home, an old farmhouse that had belonged to Valdo’s parents (and they still lived in a “guesthouse”), with a big garden (grapes, tomatoes, fruit trees…) and a wonderful view out over the hilly countryside.
Although Valdo was born and raised there, his German was quite good, having learned it from Renate (and he had taught her Italian). We all spoke German at their house, even the kids. Renate’s mother Anne-Marie telephoned twice to speak first with Robert, then me.
And then we feasted! Fresh mozzarella with garden tomatoes and basil, fusilli with meat sauce, roast beef with garlic and rosemary – all liberally doused with a wonderful, pungent olive oil. Wine, espresso, olives…we could tell we were going to have a good two weeks in this part of Italy.
In the late afternoon, we drove off with Renate in the general direction of Pisa, stopping en route in Volterra, another beautiful old medieval town perched, of course, on top of a high hill. Cycling up to Volterra looked like it could be quite the challenge! We walked the mostly pedestrian zone, and saw Renate’s “other” house where they hope to live next year. “Villa” is the right word to describe the place…big rooms (they’d knocked out and/or moved a few walls), high ceilings, big windows overlooking the square and a little café below – it looked fabulous. The house in Castelnuovo was so lovely, but apparently they wanted to move to Volterra for the kids, to be closer to their schools and friends.
Our last stop in Volterra was the old cathedral, once the pealing of the big bells signaled us that the vespers mass had ended. The cathedral was lovely, but the lasting impression for me was being outside listening to the bells, and gazing from an overlook over the autumn landscape below, full of beautiful greens and golds.
Renate dropped us off at the hotel about 8:30 PM, where we basically collapsed. We felt pretty bad for her that she had such a long drive home – easily over an hour over those winding roads. Despite our being bone-tired, though, we nevertheless roused ourselves at midnight to watch the Vuelta time-trial recap. Jan Ullrich was victorious and would ride into Madrid the next day!
Sunday, 26 September – Pisa to Localitá San Donato
After playing a little “ID the cyclists” at breakfast, we met a few who were indeed in our Vermont Bicycle Touring group, who let us know that the call time was 1:00 PM out in front of the hotel. We thought we’d kill the morning visiting the nearby botanic garden, but it was closed, so instead we alternated between watching the crowds, eating gelato, and sitting in the hotel lobby.
Knots of cyclists started gathering close to noon…a rather mixed lot. Many were actually on a “Tuscan coast” tour (how did I miss that in the catalog?) as opposed to our inland hill-climbing tour. Wonder who had more sense? Our leaders were two French-Canadians, Denis (who spoke “like-you-know-English” :)) and François, an ex-triathlete. A couple of vans were stuffed to the gills with our luggage, and we got onto a comfortable, air-conditioned bus.
The “coasties” were dropped off not far out of Pisa, while went on to Localitá San Donato, a small town in the shadow of San Gimignano. After the requisite bike safety talk, we headed out for a warm-up, “get used to the bike” ride to the foot of San Gimignano, a round-trip of only 10.5 kilometers. (A “real” visit to the town would be on the next day’s agenda.) We had shiny, new, VBT-green aluminum frame hybrid bikes, with triple chain-rings and generous gearing in the rear (11-30’s I thought), dropped handlebars, bar-end shifters, and slightly wider tires than what we’d normally ride. I’d brought along my Terry “liberator” saddle with me, while Robert took the stock seat, which turned out to be a kind of squishy gel-type saddle; it bothered him a bit at first but a seat height adjustment quickly took care of the problem. We also each had our own VBT water bottle (complete with a little lemon slice to get rid of the plastic bottle taste), and big square bike bags that mounted on the front between the handlebars.
The route was certainly a good introduction to Tuscan cycling. The route dropped, then climbed to San Gimignano, where we made a u-turn at a convenient (and busy) roundabout and headed back to the hotel. Each climb seemed long (a few kilometers), and we were to find out that would be typical each day. But it wasn’t bad, at least; we just geared down (not anywhere near all the way, I stayed in the middle chain-ring) and plugged away. A light rain made it a little steamy, and I found the weight of the front bag made the bike handling a little unwieldy. And the cars seemed a little close at times. But we survived! (As we later decided, the drivers in Italy were easily the best drivers I’d ever encountered while on a bicycle. Nobody ever honked or drove too close to us; if they couldn’t get by or see around us they patiently waited until they could. Californians could learn a thing or two from the Italians!) We were soon back at the beautiful hotel, Casolare Le Terre Rosse, where we enjoyed an evening of wine and good food while we contemplated the itinerary for the days ahead.
And we caught the end of the Vuelta on television! Jan in Gold in Madrid – quite the comeback for him for, considering what a lousy early season he’d had (including missing the TdF).
Monday, 27 September – Localitá San Donato (San Gimignano)
Today we had our first serious take on what we’d gotten ourselves into, a 59km ride up and down (although it seemed more up than down!) rolling Tuscan hills. The short loop to San Gimignano was only 36km, so we took the extension. The short ride the next day was nearly the distance of the long ride this day, so we thought, why not?
A few 10% grades would have been a good reason not to go…not to mention the 12+% descent that half melted Robert’s rear brake (I escaped only with very hot rims). We figured we were in for it when we had a long, long descent shortly after the ride decision point. We both groaned on the descent and figured we’d pay for it later! And indeed we did – the road up to Ulignano was very steep, about 10%, and long too, prompting me to give up and walk to the top while Robert gamely rode all the way. Only to find…more up! Then a real killer downhill. Road construction in Ulignano resulted in us walking (up, of course) a little more. At least the van was able to find us – we were the only two on the long route – and François replenished our water.
Eventually we did make our way to San Gimignano, walking some of the last uphill stretch there as well. We locked up the bikes and proceeded through the city walls to find some refreshment. Passing signs for the “Museum of Torture”, we found others in our group at an outdoor café, and joined them, enjoying some well-deserved beer and some focaccia al prosciutto.
Afterwards we walked up and down the narrow cobbled streets a bit, passing (but not going into) the Museum of Torture (one of our fellow cyclists joked there was a VBT bike in the window). We looked at the towers and shops before finding a small ornithological museum. We contemplated some olive oil purchases as well but decided to wait on that, opting instead to just head back to the hotel and clean up.
Lots of people seemed to stare at us – not sure if they were reading the jerseys, or trying to figure out the little mirrors on our glasses. Oh well – Robert said they were probably Germans. :) I tried staring back at a few but they seemed very unphased. Must be a cultural thing. Robert joked that I could wear white shoes if I wanted to be really paranoid. (A reference to the time in Graz (on May Day, no less) where I bought and wore white tennis shoes, and then became extremely paranoid when I realized that I never saw any other women wearing white shoes.)
I had a sore throat much of the day and hoped it would go away. A nice big wasp sting on my left thigh (with a huge red welt) was annoying, too. But even these aches and pains and staring people couldn’t ruin such a gorgeous day.
Dinner was once again at 8:00 PM, and lasted nearly until 10:00 PM. It was hard to stay awake, but you needed the long amount of time between courses to digest the food!
Tuesday, 28 September – Localitá San Donato to Sovicille
Robert had been smart the previous evening taking some Tylenol PM; I didn’t, and did not sleep well due to my sore throat. But we gamely set out with the others in a light rain shower towards Siena and Sovicille. The first 10km or so were a repeat of the previous day’s, but knowing what to expect this time made it a little easier. We had a pretty good run to Casole d’Elsa, getting there around 11:00 AM. It was too early to eat and we didn’t feel like buying/carrying food, so we took off towards an expected lunch in Mensano.
Denis caught us in the van to report no lunch in Mensano (restaurant closed, no shops) and suggested we push ahead to meet in Pievascola. The sidewalks there were rolled up as well, so we ate the few snacks we had (I wasn’t hungry anyway) and plugged along to Sovicille.
The route from Pievascola to the hotel near Sovicille was tortuous. 2km of bumpy, rocky dirt road led eventually to a long, never-ending climb – about 5km or more that just kept winding around turns, crushing your morale when you rounded each bend and realized you weren’t done yet. What a contrast to the morning’s run in the big chain-ring! I got down to my last two gears with no end to the hill in sight. Another couple, Joe and Debbie, made it all the way up without stopping…golly.
As we started up, not realizing how far we had to go (me, read the route description?), Denis pulled up next to the other couple and asked them if they wanted a lift. “No,” Joe replied, “we can’t be far from the long descent, right?”
“Oh my God no,” replied Denis.
Argggh! So…I walked, and so did Robert. Walking is good cross-training. :) Eventually the slope flattened a little and were able to get back on the bikes, only to find that the road continued to climb, but at least not too severely. A long, long descent was the reward – but couldn’t we just have gone around the hill instead of over the top? Robert almost missed the turn for the hotel, Villa Cennina, too; he pulled over to wait for me on the descent and only then saw the hotel sign, pointing up an unpaved side road.
Indoors, beer greeted us, and we sat in the bar, swapping hill stories with Debbie and Joe. Our Tuscan cooking class, originally scheduled for 2:30 PM, was pushed back to 5:00 PM to allow the participants to recover from the ride (or show up, period). That gave us more time to clean up and less time in the kitchen with the young chef Maruska, but that was ok.
As for the lesson itself, it was fun. Maruska spoke no English (except to later tell me that her sister visited Santa Monica!) and of course none of us spoke any Italian (save, maybe, for Tutto bene!), but we all managed anyway. Mostly I peeled apples for a dessert, while Robert chopped garlic for a ragú sauce. The ragú was actually for the next evening, and it was fairly simple: onions, carrots, garlic, rosemary, sage, and sausage. No oregano! And it smelled wonderful while it was all being sauteed…if I hadn’t been hungry earlier, I definitely was at that point.
Dinner, well, that was marvelous, especially the gnocchi with rich, wild mushroom sauce, but again I had to bail out before dessert – I was just too full, and it was late. However, Robert (at Maruska’s insistence) very wisely brought me a piece of the baked apple dessert in our room, anyway. Wow! The dessert was something like a French clafoudi, I think it’s called – it was basically butter, sugar, eggs, and apples, all dumped into a greased and floured pie pan and baked. The texture was almost like a custard, and it was absolutely delicious.
On the illness front, my sore throat ended the day migrating to my nose. Damn!!
Wednesday, 29 September – Sovicille (Siena)
The morning (fairly sunny!) saw us whipping down the road on the “short” loop to Siena. Seemed like a very long descent that we’d pay for later! And there was one 14% grade (which I, of course, walked). But otherwise the route was lovely, with a good bit that was fairly flat and got us into the big chain-ring. More rolling hills and soon we were on the very busy road into Siena.
We parked the bikes by the Porto Camollia and walked slowly into town, peering in shop windows (including a Bianchi distributor) and looking at the interesting architecture…not to mention keeping our eyes open for one of the three Nannini bakeries, famed for their panforte fruitcake. We grabbed sandwiches at a small Nannini shop, then found the larger establishment farther down the narrow street, where we bought (and devoured) “small” pieces of two different types of panforte. Yum! The treat was a very heavy fruitcake, comprised mostly of nuts and dried fruit; it reminded me of my mother’s unusual fruitcake, which was made with graham cracker crumbs and dried fruit.
One of the scheduled events for the day was the viewing of the short film, Palio al Cinema, about the famous Palio horse race in Siena. Run in the Campo twice each summer, the race pits horses and riders from 10 of the 17 contrade (neighborhoods) against one another, vying for a colorful banner, honor, pride…and lower income taxes. The race looks like the local equivalent of running the bulls in Pamplona, very colorful and wild. Three times around the Campo they go, and that’s a quick (and tight race); often at least one horse winds up in the middle of the spectators!
Following the film, we walked to the Campo to see it first hand, admiring the architecture of the Palazzo Pubblico and trying to imagine horses racing around. From there we moved on to the cathedral; what an impressive structure! Built virtually entirely of marble, the alternating bands of white and dark green marble create the typical striped look I’d learned to associate with Tuscany. The façade of the church was clearly gothic leaning toward the baroque, very “busy” with frescoes atop, gleaming with gold.
By the time we’d exited the cathedral, the hunk of panforte I’d consumed was weighing heavily in my stomach. We walked very slowly back to the Porto Camollia, there finding Denis and François. We were both pretty tired, and examining the map, opted for an unadvertised shortcut back to Sovicille, lopping a good 10km off the return trip. (As it turned out, we’d goofed in the morning, so we probably had close to 40km on the day anyway.) With the shortcut the ride back was pretty easy, especially since I walked down that 14% grade (didn’t want to melt the brakes…). We both expected a long slog back up to the Villa but were pleasantly surprised to find ourselves back with little effort.
Showers, laundry (hanging in the window, of course!), a walk down to the wild boar farm down below, a look at the olive groves (too early to eat the olives, although I tried one anyway), then finally some beer, which we enjoyed sitting in the garden outside the kitchen. Perfect place to sit, too – the aroma of roasting garlic wafted over us as the sun went down. At dinner we enjoyed Maruska’s ragú sauce with pici, a thick, hand-rolled pasta, kind of like spaghetti on steroids. It was marvelous!
Thursday, 30 September – Sovicille to Pienza
The best day yet! After comparing aches and pains, and laughing at a painting of someone collapsed on his side but still apparently giving a “thumbs up”, we departed Villa Cennina in the fog by bus. The fog over the vineyards and olive trees in the morning light was beautiful. But the fog burned off by the time we reached our destination, Abbey Monte Oliveto Maggiore, a beautiful Benedictine abbey about an hour from Sovicille. After viewing the abbey’s outdoor frescoes (detailing the life of St. Benedict), and lighting a candle in the church for Footsie (why not?), we went back out to get our bicycles and head off for Pienza. This day we opted for the long (44km) ride vs. the short (29km), taking us along rolling terrain via Asciano. The rollers occasionally threw 12-15% grades at us – arggh! But mostly, we did well.
In Asciano we had a simple sandwich made for us in an alimentari with salami and fresh pecorino, and enjoyed it in a nearby little plaza. Such a simple panini never tasted so good! We also shared a few cycling notes with a hardy fellow who was on a three-month trip originating in the Netherlands (“going over the Alps was hard,” he allowed).
Asciano was only 9km into the ride, so we moved out fairly quickly after filling our bottles in the public fountain. We knew we were in for a climb as Asciano was in a valley (a rare occurrence in Tuscany!) while Pienza lay at some 1600 feet. The road climbed reasonably gradually, giving us a great view over the rolling terrain. Down, up, down, up – typical Tuscany – and we were riding along a beautiful shady road with such a pleasant breeze. It was wonderful.
Riding along, we saw the hilltop town of Trequando in the distance. “Too bad we’re not going there,” I remarked to Robert. He laughed. “Have you seen the map?” he replied. Sure enough…we were headed right there, and it looked steep, especially as we’d have to descend into a little valley before climbing up to the town. And it was steep; it must have been 15%. I made it nearly to the top before having to rest, and then cheated and got a running start on a favorably sloped driveway next to me. :) Robert made it to, riding faster and stronger than me overall, but taking a couple of extra stops. (We were the cycling equivalent of the tortoise and the hare.) We made it to the top, gasping, and rolled slowly through town. We came upon some of our VBT group picnicking, and waved to them as we cruised past.
From Trequando we rolled down, then, up, along another shady road, in the direction of Pistoia and Pienza. We rode up to Castelmuzio, but didn’t actually go into the town. As I told Robert, the road was still going up, so forget it! From Castelmuzio we cruised downhill before starting the climb in earnest to Pienza. It was long, and I was basically in the lowest or next-to-lowest gear for much of the climb, but I made it. Denis soon pulled up next to us with the van and replenished our water. François rode up the hill soon afterward and, of course, made it look effortless. Happily, we were soon after riding into Pienza and finding our hotel, Il Chiostro di Pienza, an old cloister. Beautiful! Big rooms, comfy bed, awesome bath; Denis said they’d saved the best for last, hard to believe after Villa Cennina, but apparently true. The man at reception exclaimed, “You won the race!” as we entered; we got there ahead of all the short loop people!
We soaked ourselves in the tub, then dressed and went in search of beer and other goodies. We bought two bottles of olive oil and some cookies before settling in at a neighborhood bar, down near the old city entrance (and recommended by François), for some beer.
The beer was German (or so we thought; Robert later decided it wasn’t) and exceedingly good (and strong). 0.4 liter each and we were feeling no pain. It was quite nice to sit on the corner drinking and watching the world go by. A cat watched us from a rooftop; old men sat in the park across the street doing likewise as the sun set. All in all, it was an incredibly relaxing way to wind up the day.
We bought some pecorino (semi-dry) after a tasting on the way back to the hotel. It was vacuum-sealed, and we had some thought to trying to get it through customs that way in the US. Dinner was not for another hour, and would last two, but at that point I was already wiped out. The trip had been strenuous, for sure, but I couldn’t imagine a better way to get acquainted with the region.
Friday, 1 October – Pienza
Last day of cycling! Figured that my cold would finally be improving, although I still had a plugged right ear (damn).
As expected, we had a beautiful view of the Val d’Orcia from our third-floor room in the morning. Rain had pounded the window during the night but the weather looked clear – at least at 7:30 AM it did.
Wow! The previous day had been great, but this day was better. Maybe it was simply the knowledge that it was the last day…in any case, the ride out of Pienza took us down, then up a moderate hill from which we had a great view behind us of the city. Continuing on, we cycled a long flat stretch (imagine that!) before beginning the climb to Montepulciano. The climb was long but relatively gradual; as had become our pattern, I spun in very low gears while Robert opted for moving faster, then resting while I caught up. Near the “top” along the paved road, we turned onto a 3.5km stretch of unpaved road that continued up. Although we’d been warned it might be bumpy, it was actually in pretty good condition; the previous night’s rains left everything firm and compact. After rejoining the paved road, it wasn’t much farther to Montepulciano. The city was the highest in the region, some 1900 feet, but we had gained most of the altitude earlier, and didn’t have it bad into the city.
Locking the bikes to a rail, we joined another tour couple and strolled into town, looking for the recommended Caffe Poliziano. We bought a marionette for Margaret (of Pinocchio) before settling down for a welcome lunch of salami, cheese, bread, and olive oil.
Following lunch we walked up the steep narrow street to the highest point, and took in quite the panorama of the beautiful Tuscan landscape. We then slowly came back down to the bikes and headed out on the last 14km of our bike tour. Whizzing down the hill, we stopped to photograph the city behind us with the San Biaggio church in the foreground. Then…whee! Off we went, zooming back to Pienza on a great, rolling road. We were even able to charge up a few hills with good energy and momentum from the previous hill, blowing right past a few in our group (oops). Before we knew it, we were back in Pienza. Our final hill charge was slowed by a steep lip to the top, but nevertheless, we made it.
We debated waiting in the park with the bikes (so I could get my saddle), drinking a beer or having gelato nearby, but instead we went back to the hotel for well-deserved soaks in the bathtub, and went back for the saddle later. For the trip overall, we’d covered 156 miles (some 252km) in six tough days. Of course, our average speed was nothing to write home about, but what was important was the amount of climbing we did, and how good we felt about it.
Our last night with the tour was fun. We had a wine tasting at a local wine shop, L’Enoteca di Ghino, where the proprietor spoke German (“gell?”). Then dinner in the hotel restaurant, with multiple courses and some good wine consumed over several hours. A Parmesan flan was particularly notable, as was the frozen dessert that was in danger of flying off the plate like a hockey puck (but it was yummy once it thawed).
Saturday, 2 October – Pienza to Florence
It was strange waking up and not putting on cycling clothes. Instead, we packed up and prepared for the bus trip to Florence. At breakfast, we were all presented with pretty little alabaster bowls, coming from Volterra. François also gave away several gifts based upon a very easy quiz and a drawing; we won a bottle of Merlot!
The bus was parked down near the little park, where we all gathered for a group photo before pushing off for Florence. François and Denis returned to Le Terre Rosse near San Gimignano to prepare the bikes for another tour starting the next day. Our trip took about two hours, getting us to the Novotel Firenze Nord near the airport. From there we shared a taxi with Bob and Donna Faye (from Florida) into Florence proper.
Our hotel, the Pension Pendini, occupied the third and fourth floors of a building overlooking the Piazza della Repubblica. A Mac in the tiny reception area was set to allow guests to send and receive email! I dropped a line to Mom, Lee, Luci, and to Dennis Miller. They also gave us a mousepad, decorated with Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, for being “internet fans”. We went for a short walk after checking in, for lunch and to exchange some money, before taking a “quick” look at the Duomo – wow. But we were basically so tired that we siesta’d the afternoon away in our room. I think the exertion of the previous week had finally caught up with us. We barely moved until 6:00 PM, when we decided to head out for a walk and an early (e.g. 7:00 PM) dinner.
We strolled across the Piazza and over to the Ponte Vecchio, passing the Uffizi Gallery en route. The sun was setting as we got to the bridge, and many people were there, but it still managed to seem intimate. A short bit from there we found a sport shop where Robert, with only a tiny bit of encouragement, picked up a nice Banesto jersey for only 69,000 lire – about $38! Dinner at 7:30 PM near the Duomo followed, at a nice outdoor pizzeria with very fast service…not to mention excellent tagliatelle al pesto and pizza napolitana.
Sunday, 3 October – Florence (Pistoia)
This day was both lazy and not. After breakfast – sadly very conventional, cold bread, coffee, so-so orange juice – we visited the boar statue near the open air market, and shopped for leather purses (one for me, one for Maureen for her 10th birthday). We then returned to the hotel and watched just enough television to determine the cycling world championship schedule for Monday. Determining it was safe to go back out, we strolled over to the Santa Maria Novella train station and caught a regional train to Pistoia.
The ride was short (34km, 40 minutes) and inexpensive (18,000 lire for two round-trip tickets, about $10), and we were in Pistoia at about 12:30. We were curious to see if Pistoia would give us the “country Tuscan” feel we’d enjoyed so much on our cycling tour, but it didn’t. It was a much larger town, and being Sunday, was mostly deserted except for a handful of German tourists. But still, it was an interesting town, with a number of nice churches exhibiting the familiar green-and-white striped marble façades, with geometric patterns in the blind arcades, etc. The Duomo itself was covered with scaffolding due to repair/restoration work for the upcoming millennium celebration. We lucked into seeing the interior of the Duomo after a mass ended, but unfortunately had to cut short our examination of a fine silver altarpiece in order not to get locked inside the church.
Hungry at that point, we went on a search for food. We found one or two open cafes that had the handful of tourists clustered like animals at an African watering hole, and had a nice light lunch. We’d run out of things to do at that point so we walked slowly back to the train station, just killing time, and eventually caught our little regional train back to Florence. Robert returned to the hotel while I went on back to the Duomo to try to photograph a few details on the façade, ignoring some bozo who seemed to want me to take his picture with my camera. The sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds but eventually came out enough that I got a few good shots. Photographing the Duomo as a whole was impossible, it was simply too massive, and when one steps back you lose all the detail. (Interestingly enough, the interior I found kind of dull; it is as if all the effort went into the beautiful exterior, so the Florentines could say “take that!” to their rivals.) I rejoined Robert at the hotel, and we watched the end of the Paris-Tours cycling race on television.
We tried a different restaurant for dinner. It was ok (I had ribollita, the Tuscan bread soup), but we’d like the previous night’s choice better. We ended the evening with some ok gelato near the Duomo before returning hotel, passing a large poster of Marco Pantani at a nearby bank. Taking our lead from all the couples lurking about, we kissed a little bit near the hotel’s private entryway. :)
Monday, 4 October – Florence
Well! We hadn’t too much in the way of plans for the morning. The idea was basically to find some bread (to enjoy later with our cheese and wine, both of which we’d decided not to try to take home with us), and to visit a few churches. We did visit San Lorenzo and Santa Trinita, and thought we might go into Santa Maria Novella, but it was closed for renovations, and open only for prayer. “You’re a believer, how about you go in and look and tell me what it’s like?” Robert suggested jokingly. “Nah”, I said, “I don’t think so,” and Santa Maria Novella went unexamined.
The search for bread was harder than we anticipated; we searched high and low before having the sense to cross the Arno and get away from the Duomo tourist area. We bought ½ kilo of salame milano (the lady looked incredulous, and she was right, it was easily twice what we needed) and a couple of slabs of focaccia-like bread.
Back at the hotel, we watched the women’s junior (17-18) time trial on television (Canadian Genevieve Jeansen won, beating German Trixi Worrack) before meeting Renate at her office. We lunched together at a small quiet restaurant across the river, and afterwards we all visited Santa Croce church before Renate had to return to work.
The walking and food took a toll, and we collapsed in the hotel all afternoon watching the men’s under-23 time trial, and me struggling not to fall asleep. (The winners were Jose-Ivan Guttierrez, Michael Rogers, and Yevgeni Pavlov.) We hadn’t the energy to go out again, and instead had an early dinner of our wine, cheese, bread, and salami. A garlicky yet very good (and filling!) dinner. I roused myself enough to check for email, and a message from Lee regarding the sorry state of USC football was a welcome treat.
The contrast between Florence and Tuscany in general continued to impress me, and made me realize more and more just how wonderful our cycling tour was. The traffic noise in Florence, nearly wherever one goes, was incessantly loud. The Vespas and their clones, while a great mode of transportation, were clearly the worst offenders. Still there’s a charm to Florence – but while it may be the “capital” of Tuscany, it was neither the heart nor the soul of the region. That honor would have to lay with any of the little medieval hilltop towns, e.g. Pienza or San Gimignano.
One disadvantage to being in a hotel facing the Piazza della Repubblica was the evening noise, mostly music from a restaurant directly below us. We lucked out this evening as the restaurant appeared to be closed. We could apparently finish our wine in peace, while watching motorcycle racing on Eurosport.
Tuesday, 5 October – Florence
We were up early, so to speak, to get breakfast and then out the door, so we could try to get into the Uffizi Gallery without too long of a wait. We actually had reservations for the next afternoon, but as the timing conflicted with the men’s elite time trial on television, we figured we’d give the Uffizi a shot this day.
The line was forming when we got there at a little before 9:00 (it opened at 8:30), putting us out near the street along the river, but it moved decently and we were inside at 10:00. A few rooms were closed (Rubens, Rembrandt) but otherwise the collection was available, including Botticelli’s La Primavera (Liza’s favorite) and Birth of Venus. Also worth mentioning were the many beautiful ceilings, one room displaying sculpture with gorgeous gold upper walls and ceilings; and the awesome views, one out over the Arno and the Ponte Vecchio, and another towards the Duomo. Overall, it was well worth the price of admission.
Lunch was back at the hotel, with the never-ending salami, then while Robert rested (he seemed to have caught my cold) I strolled around some, winding up over on little streets near the Santa Croce. I visited a few shops on the way back, buying some water, chocolate, and marzipan (the essentials!).
The women’s elite time trial was in the afternoon; Leontine van Moorsel defended her championship, while Anna Wilson (Australia) and Elita Pucinskaite (Lithuania) were 2 and 3. US riders (Emery, Holden, et al.) were in the top 15.
We roused ourselves for a walk afterwards, to get some air and exercise before dinner…well, not really, we just wanted to find Vivoli’s gelateria over near Santa Croce. And we did! I had tiramisu first, but it was real tiramisu, and not gelato, so soon I was back inside for a cup of crema all’arancia (creamy orange) while Robert had a divine lemon. The two smallest servings were 3000 and 4000 lire; we mused over how much it cost when Robert was here in the mid-70’s, and resolved to check his old trip journal when we got home.
Back at the hotel for dinner…the end of the salami, cheese, and bread! Quite the aromatic meal, but very yummy, and it saved us a few lire these past couple of days. I also did a quick email check; I’d received a message from Luci, and had sent a few more (to her, Lee, Danny Rea, and Wally Brechtelsbauer) that looked as if they’d been sent. But no new messages for us this evening. (We passed an “internet point” on the walk back from Vivoli’s, but I certainly didn’t want to check my “real” email; couldn’t anyway as I’d purposely left my SecurID card at home. But it was kind of neat to know you could if you wanted to.)
Television this evening was a tennis match with Andre Agassi from Basel, but the sound was out of synch, so you heard whether a shot was in or out nearly before it was hit.
Wednesday, 6 October – Florence
Another nice day, first with a visit to the Palazzo Pitti, then the Giardino di Boboli. In the Pitti, we’d first thought of splitting up, Robert into the Galleria Palatina and me into the Costume and maybe the Carriage museum. But my two choices were closed, so together we went into the Galleria. Many nice works, including some Botticelli (Venus’ face on the Madonna!), Robert’s favorite, Rubens, plus di Sarto and others. The lighting often left a little to be desired, perhaps purposely, Robert suggested, as the idea was to display the works as they would have originally been seen.
The tour also included the Royal Apartments, the very opulent private rooms of the Medici. Of particular interest to me was the Celeste room (i.e., in Bianchi green!) A cold walk through the Boboli gardens followed. There were lots of cats in the garden, but all looking reasonably healthy; we saw one lady feeding some of them on a little side path.
We lunched at a little self-service pizza place, and although we ate the same thing (sausage) mine didn’t seem to sit too well. Hmm. We were back at the hotel for the 2:00 start of the men’s elite time trial. It was great – a 50km course in Treviso – and although a few names were absent, it was still exciting. Germany’s Jan Ullrich, as hoped, won by 14 seconds over Michael Andersson (Sweden) and Chris Boardman (UK).
Dinner was back at the first restaurant we’d visited near the Duomo, La Botteghe di Donatello, but only after a visit to Vivoli’s. Both our pre-dessert and dinner were excellent. We also enjoyed a one-man Peruvian band in the Piazza della Repubblica, too. It was lovely enjoying the music as the shadows lengthened, the lights came up and the piazza filled with people. We saw a beautiful calico cat in a window as we walked; it purred at us loudly through the screen. Between that and finding a couple of Phoebe’s long hairs on my vest, I realized that I missed both our kitties Phoebe and Footsie very much.
The last excitement for the evening was nearly being run over by a big motorcade with a noisy police escort. Robert joked that it was the Pope, but there was no Popemobile, so we didn’t know who it was.
Thursday, 7 October – Florence
The previous day’s pizza hadn’t bothered me overnight, but I definitely felt bad an hour after breakfast, unfortunately while in the Capella di Medici near San Lorenzo. Despite that, the Cappella was a treat, especially the new Sacristry with works by Michelangelo (Night, Day, Dawn, and Dusk) on two tombs. The larger mausoleum was really something; it was huge, dark, and imposing, with much dark marble for the walls and floors. The tombs of Cosimo (Il Vecchio) and Lorenzo were there; from the opulence, you’d have thought they were kings.
My sour stomach made for a quick return to the hotel, lest I repeat Robert’s performance 20 years ago at the Alte Pinakotec. I felt somewhat better after getting rid of my breakfast and drinking a lot of water.
We met Renate again for lunch, eating at a very small osteria not far from Santa Croce. I had excellent riso al farro (basically risotto with lentils) that I hoped would stay down. It did, so we all went back to Vivoli’s for dessert. The gelato there was clearly the world’s best. :)
We said our goodbyes to Renate at that point. It certainly was nice being able to visit with her as much as we did, and we hoped we could see her again before too long. I then went back to the hotel (better safe than sorry!) while Robert took an extra stroll.
Oh, and the big motorcade – Renate said it was Hillary Clinton! Why would she be here, we wondered…Robert suggested she was trying to score points with New York Italians in her run for the Senate.
Most of my problem did seem to be dehydration, because after a lot of water I felt much better. We returned to our little restaurant near the Duomo; maybe we lost a few points for originality, but the food was good!
Friday, 8 October – Florence
Last full day in Florence, and Maureen’s birthday, to boot. This last day we walked across the river and up the hill to the imposing San Miniato al Monte church. “One of the finest examples of Tuscan Romanesque, it was built in the 11th-12th c; the campanile was rebuilt in 1524-27…from the terrace there are magnificent views,” our Baedeker’s opined.
And it was correct. The green-and-white façade of the church was clearly visible from across the river in the center of Florence, but it was even more impressive up close and personal, with a Byzantine-looking mosaic in the arcade above the main doors. The views from the church steps, as well as from the nearby Piazzale Michelangelo (with a bronze copy of the David), were classics, beautiful overviews of the city with the red-tiled dome of the Duomo and its campanile towering above everything. The view would have been perfect were it not for the layer of smog blanketing everything. (The previous day, when I couldn’t have been bothered carrying the camera, it was completely clear. Oh well.)
Strolling back to the hotel after the obligatory stop at Vivoli’s, we spied a strange little sign pointing into a narrow street, almost an alley. “Il Che C’è C’è, it said…whatever that means. (Il Che C’è C’è, Via Magalotti 11/r (Santa Croce), Tel 055 21 65 89, closed on Monday. Robert recalls it being approximately halfway between Santa Croce and the Piazza Vecchio. See website http://www.arcetri.astro.it/Common/Restaurants.html.)
Intrigued, we took a look, finding a little restaurant with dark-paned French windows. It was closed at that moment, but it looked pleasant enough inside, and a handful of people were inside eating – the owners and staff, we presumed. The menu posted outside looked good and reasonable, including some nice pastas, so we planned to return at 7:30 when it opened.
We actually arrived back there a few minutes before it opened, to find a knot of people standing outside. Walking up to them, we heard a few talking about how this was the restaurant to go to in Florence. “Really?” Robert said, “we just walked by this afternoon and decided to come back this evening”. “But don’t you have reservations?” a girl asked, “they’re really necessary.”
Rats, we thought, but the door opened, and we decided to give it a try, anyway. A friendly older woman asked us if we had reservations, but when we said no, she cheerfully said, “No problem!” She wound up reseating us, but we were happy just to be there. The tables were kind of close, and the place filled up pretty quickly, save for a couple of empty seats; it looked to be the kind of place that had one seating for dinner, and everyone was buzzing with anticipation about the meal. We were handed an aperitif, something blue; we later decided it was a kind of peppermint schnapps. The menu had the usual offerings of multiple courses, but there was also a fixed-price “Tuscan specialties” dinner, and we went with that.
“Would you like to choose the courses, or may the chef?” asked the woman. “We’ll let the chef decide,” we responded…and what a good choice! We started with an antipasti plate, including wonderful pecorino and parmesan cheeses, salami, prosciutto, marinated red peppers and eggplant, olives, and bread. Two different primi piatti pastas followed, each which could have been a meal in itself…then secondi, chicken for Robert, and veal for me, with contorni of mixed vegetables. All this accompanied by a bottle of the house white wine (very good) and a bottle of mineral water. The courses were widely separated to allow one time to digest what had been consumed; much of the time we simply sat there and giggled at each other at what a great dinner we were having. The chef/owner came out of the kitchen and stopped by each table after the secondi had been served, asking “tutto bene?”. Our ear-to-ear grins were the answer.
Just when we thought we couldn’t eat another bite, they offered us dessert (included in the fixed price). “Let’s at least listen to what they have,” I asked Robert. The woman mentioned a few different cakes, tiramisu, and profiteroles, and what the heck, I immediately said I’d have the profiteroles. Robert joined me in the same, and didn’t really know what he’d ordered until they arrived – he said he just went with my call there. What they were, of course, were three big, wonderful cream puffs topped with a thick chocolate sauce. Heaven!
We finally left the restaurant well after 10:00, still not quite believing our good luck at finding this restaurant AND getting a table. And most unbelievable at all, it was only 50,000 lire per person – somewhere in the neighborhood of $27-28 apiece, and that included the drinks, cover charge, and service.
After that, what could we say? We returned to the Pension Pendini, and packed up for our return home the next day. We’d have an early, pre-breakfast cab ride to the airport, a short hop to Frankfurt, and then the flight home after cooling our heels in the Frankfurt airport for five hours or so. Soon we’d be back with our cats and at work and into our routine. But we both knew that this trip was an experience that neither of us would soon forget.
Ciao!