My morning walk from the 13th century building on Vicolo del Sasso that I currently live in to Fontebranda, where my Italian classes are currently held, would take me ten minutes to complete. But that is when I walk like myself, quickly and with purpose, watching the street signs to make sure that I’m headed in the right direction and paying attention to little else. My host mother showed us the way the first day, and she gave herself a full twenty-five minutes to get there. So to complete the walk as an Italian is to stroll down Vicolo del Sasso and first note the weather. Very clear skies with plenty of sunshine but chilly, beginning in the high thirties in the morning and reaching into the mid to high fifties during the day (3 C in the morning to 12 C during the day). All the buildings are at least three stories high and connected all togother, so walking along the streets feels like tunneling through the old stone, sometimes literally when streets lead you under buildings by the means of large arches to allow the passage.
At the end of Vicolo del Sasso is an intersection marked by a very large brick church sandwiched in with all the rest, but with a more Roman style that might suggest it is from later into the Renaissance era. Turning left onto Via del Pispini you begin to pass small grey signs, sometimes half covered by ivy, pointing towards Piazza del Campo. We turn right onto Via del Pantaneto and have left the purely residential streets for streets with businesses running out of the first floor. When our host mother walked with us she stopped often to chat with neighbors, discussing the worrying prospect of rain and that the Wednesday market was in fact today, Wednesday. As we walk on we pass a massive white marble building that is not a business or a church but some mystery I would solve if it didn’t seem to fit so well into its surroundings. It has high columns and a lavishly designed façade. Its large wooden doors are always closed, as are many large wooden doors along these streets. When I do catch a glimpse though a set of doors it will never be what I’m expecting. A hotel courtyard or garden in what I assumed was a modest family home, or a cobbler workspace in what I thought was some sort of museum.
We keep walking, constantly weaving a little so that people, cars, and motorcycles can pass. Occasionally there is graffiti on the ancient stonewalls, anarchy symbols, phrases in Italian, and most notably phrases in English that have included “Fuck the Police,” “Legalize,” and “Samuel L. Jackson.” Little side streets that seem like alleyways to us but to drivers are completely legitimate roadways turn off to our left and right, but we follow the signs to the Campo. The street becomes more business focused as we approach and yet to our left there is a little fountain carved into the buildings, the fountain for the Leocorno Contrada. Their symbol is the unicorn, and so unicorn heads line the fountain and the water trickles out of their horns. Each Contrada, the old tribes of the city, has its own fountain tucked away somewhere in the city. We pass another mysterious white marble building, even larger than the last and merge onto Banchi di Sotto. At least thirty mopeds are parked on this stretch, always the same ones. They range from old and rickety, often held together with duct tape, to big and flashy. Most of the people that ride them, however, seem to use them less as a statement and more as a way to get around the hilly city quickly and on the narrow streets they do seem to make more sense than cars.
We begin to pass galleries and more polished stone buildings. The little old ladies that were strolling in the residential streets are still there but there are also students and people going to work. We’re the only tourists, its seems, being that it is much too early in the year for many others. The students tend to be a touch more casual in their dress, but still put together and fashionable. You won’t find worn out converse or hoodies here, everyone has on leather boots and beautiful coats, look well-washed and well-fed, and all seem to know one another. Those in the thirty-five to sixty-five range are often the best dressed group. On their way to work, the men wear fitted suits, some more flamboyant and colorful and others very traditional in a spectrum of greys. The women all seem to have mastered the use of the scarf, and dress up usually dark fitted ensembles with a variety of types and colors of scarves. We begin to pass the more expensive stores where they shop, and storefronts show all these fashions in their windows. The businesses are now mostly bars (cafes), restaurants, and specialty shops such as wine, leather, books, and ceramics. Despite the central nature of this street, almost none of the businesses cater to tourist items. Occasionally there are little displays of postcards set up in front of a door way, but rarely have I seen a fully fledged tourist shop.
We turn right onto Via di Citta, passing a row of marble columns on which are intricate statues of saints and angles holding up the roof of some fabulous building leaning in over our heads. We walk on a few hundred feet and stop. To our right is a gap in the buildings, though which is the Piazza del Campo, the massive shell shaped expanse of bricks that is arguably the heart of the city. It is quiet at this hour of the morning, with only a few people cutting across it on their way to somewhere else. The Torre del Mangia is the massive brick bell tower that is one of the most famous of Siena’s landmarks. Next to it is the Palazzo Pubblico that now houses an art museum though once it was the center of government in Siena. We turn left, away from the Piazza and through an arch onto a street called Via Fontebranda that leads all the way to the bottom of the huge hill capped by Piazza del Campo. As we walk down this steep street we are immediately off the beaten track. This street has little doors that lead to homes and tiny little stores seen in a glance through a pane of glass. Continuing down the street and passing under an arch we suddenly have a sweeping view of part of the city and of the Basilica of San Domenico, one of the larger largest churches in the city. Siena is small enough so that you could probably see the major attractions in one day. After nearly six weeks in Siena, I think that this city in particular might be one that will take a lot of time to really get a sense of.
The building that houses our program’s classes is across from the oldest fountain in Siena, giving the street its name, Fontebranda, the “fountain” or “source.” The water comes from springs at the top of the hill and is carried in pipes that are nearly a thousand years old. Our first day in Siena, our class sat on the steeps of the simple brick building to eat our lunch and never thought to wonder what the clearly old structure was. It’s a very touristy thing to do, wander about from major attraction to major attraction without ever giving notice to the truly remarkable all around you. At the risk of sounding very much like a hipster blogger girl, I’m going to end with a quote from a famous writer that sums up my resolution for my experience in Italy. Forgive me.
The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.
-G.K. Chesterton
I’d like to be a traveler for a while.