Win een week Toscane!
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We spent a glorious week in Tuscany in the Spring of 2008. We stayed just outside of Vicchio, a little town just North of Florence. It was Spring, sunny days and cool nights. Our villa was awesome! Built in the 15th Century. Hand carved wood beams supporting the ceilings, which had to be twelve feet high. So pretty! I think it had 7 bedrooms, and we needed them all. Our group consisted of my wife and I, her sister and husband, both of our sons, oldest son in the company of his fiancée, and younger son had invited a good friend, and then our close friends and neighbors, who wanted to go to Italy to track down some of their distant relatives. In all, ten of us. Our villa was on a farm, overlooking a picturesque valley, with train tracks in the distance disappearing into Vicchio. We had 2 rental cars, which were both needed to move our group around as we visited the wineries and the cheese makers, and several of the lovely villages in our area. And, fortunately there was a train nearby in Vicchio to get us into Florence.
It had been a great adventure, with some of us first hiking the Cinque Terre, while others flew into Rome to take in those sights, before we all converged on Vicchio and found our villa. After a few days of local touristing, and full of confidence about our ability to negotiate the roads, even with the language barriers (none of us spoke any Italian), most of us piled into the cars one morning and headed out for a full day of travel and sightseeing. First stop was the Prada outlet several miles South of Florence. No problems getting there and we managed to do mostly looking and not too much buying. Onward to Siena, our next stop, and the beginning of my hour of torment and shame. David, my good friend and neighbor down the street, was driving one car. I drove the other. Both cars were pretty full with family and friends. David had the lead as we headed into Siena. We knew nothing of Siena, except for the info in our tourist guide book, which told us that it was an ancient town with quaint and beautiful architecture, and a memorable sight to see. We had never been there before, and I’m sure we can never go back. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are wanted posters with our pictures on them displayed everywhere in that town.
So, my story. Now, Siena sits on top of a hill, and you drive into town knowing that your ultimate destination is the top of the hill where the oldest part of the city is located, which is the haven for tourism. So, we started driving up the hill, and as we did, we saw lots of parking lots and lots of people parking and walking up. But, we kept driving, thinking that there might be something closer, which would mean a shorter walk for all of us and a time saver, as we had a full day of adventure planned, including San Gimignano and its watch towers. Near the top of the hill, I was right behind David as we went around a bend in the road, and a delivery truck was stopped immediately ahead of us and blocking the way. After a minute he started moving again and we started moving too. We didn’t understand that he had stopped to use a card of some sort to lower a barrier in the road that was immediately in front of him. We couldn’t see the barrier, from our position right behind that big truck. And fortunately, or unfortunately, the barrier stayed retracted as we followed the truck into that part of Siena where cars are not allowed. And of course we couldn’t read the signs written in Italian, which were probably all screaming “NO TOURIST CARS ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT!!!!” So, we were inside the old part of Siena, and our troubles were about to begin. Of course there was nowhere to park. And the streets were full of tourists, all of whom were terribly inconvienced to move over and make room for the stupid Americans driving their cars where they were not allowed. And the “roads” in the old part of town were very narrow, closer to alleys really, and not much room for us to squeeze by all the pedestrians. I guess that 500 years ago, they didn’t need wide streets. So, we stopped at a little town square where there was a bit of room, and talked it over. We figured out that we needed to get the cars out of there, pronto, and that became our priority. David stayed in the lead. And we circled around that town a half dozen times trying to find a way out, with no success. Each loop took about 10 minutes. And after about 3 loops, the pedestrians, having seen us time and again, were shouting at us, thankfully in a language we could not understand. There was just no freaking way out! That town was a maze. Then I took the lead. I saw a sign that must have said “exit” in Italian, with an arrow pointing down a narrow street. So we tried that way. “My” street was getting narrower and narrower, but I pressed on with David faithfully following right behind. We rounded a bend and then……..a stairway with lots of stairs going way down! That was it. Just the stairs. No way around them. Turns out, we weren’t on a street. We were on a sidewalk leading back to the parking lots. And desperate as we were at that point, we weren’t going to try driving down the stairs. The people on foot on this sidewalk were, well I’m not sure. You can fill in that blank. Incredulous might work. I decided not to look at their faces, as we backed up about 2 blocks worth of narrow sidewalk trying to get back to the road and find a way to escape from that cursed town. Eventually, David found that same delivery truck and asked the truck driver if we could follow him out of town. And he got us out of there. I don’t know why we couldn’t find that one critical turn on our own. I’m glad the truck driver could speak a little English, or we might still be in Siena. Anyway, Italy was wonderful. But, Siena? Not so much, and certainly not a place where I would risk going back. They probably haven’t forgotten us yet, even though it’s been 6 years.