Siena is an old city. The world-famous Palio horse race held in the large central square, Piazza del Campo, officially dates back to 1283, though many think its origins go back to Roman military training.
One can learn many things in Siena, like the fact that its main bell tower, Torre del Mangia, is named after the lazy bell-ringer who was “eating” up the profits, or that you can’t just drive your clunky mini-bus smack dab into the city center.
It’s hard to believe the amount of adventure one can have with a mini-bus in Italy. In fact, I’ve grown so fond of mine that I’m trying to figure out how to buy it and have it shipped back to the states. The darn thing is practically a magic carpet, going anywhere and everywhere as though it weren’t a hundred feet long and fourteen wide.
These old medieval towns throughout Tuscany, many having origins predating the Roman era, are built atop hills. You can see their old buildings jutting up into the sky from miles away, crowded inside a city wall. The hot setup for a tourist is to drive to a parking area just outside the city walls, then walk inside for peaceful sightseeing, largely free from cars and traffic.
Until the Bradys come along. Upon arriving in Siena I thought I saw a sign for parking just beyond the arched entry. Sure enough, there were at least four ample parking spaces provided, which were filled by seventy-six midget cars. The GPS confidently led me onward and I confidently complied. The roads got narrower and narrower and the crowds of people thicker and thicker. Those pesky pedestrians were really clogging up our path and making it hard to get through. But the mini-bus was having a powerful effect on those folks, parting them like the Red Sea. At one point while we were annoyingly at a standstill, a couple of nice ladies attempted to explain something to me. With my ever-increasing ability to speak and understand Italian, I got the following out of what they were saying: “You idiot.”
Being the experienced world travelers we are came in extremely handy at this moment. Terri and the kids jumped out and we made arrangements to meet up in the main city square. This was possible because I very skillfully kept the conversation going with the vigilante ladies long enough to buy time for Terri and the kids to make their escape. Things were working out swimmingly. As my five and six year old can only handle so many steps taken in the name of tourism, and since their appreciation for Gothic architecture and the history of Tuscany’s artists hasn’t quite reached full maturity, conserving their travel distance is a great strategy for extending the potential time for touring. This latest maneuver of ours would shave off literally HALF of their required steps. It was going to be a great day.
With all the helpful instruction I’d received, snaking my way out of town proved to be no problem at all. Finding a parking space was a bit more challenging, but eventually I procured one in Minnesota.
I have read about walking tours through Siena, and how serene and educational they can be. But for my money, I’d rather take the driving tour. Trust me, there’s nothing quite like Siena by car, or, um, mini-bus.
