It’s a drizzly fall day in Siena, Italy. We arrived this morning via local bus from Florence. When lunchtime rolled around, we ducked into a cozy little restaurant where we had a wonderful lunch of ribollita. We needed to walk it off before heading back to Florence. Little did we know that our bus ride back from Siena would have a bit of excitement.
Siena is right in the middle of Tuscany, surrounded by rolling hills of vineyards and groves of olive trees. It’s beautiful, even on an overcast day.
Tuscany is famous for its hill towns. In medieval times, the safest place to be was in a town enclosed by a big wall. And the best place to build a walled town was on top of a hill. Hillsides acted as extensions of city walls, and from the top of the hill, you could keep an eye on your enemies. Hence hill towns.
The Republic of Siena
Siena probably started out as a hill town, but in medieval times it grew into a republic. The Republic of Siena stretched from where we are now, all the way to the Mediterranean coastline, where its port cities were important centers for trade.
Siena’s rival and arch-enemy was the neighboring Republic of Florence. A lot of Florentines died at the hands of Sienese, and visa-versa.
These days, Siena is a province in Tuscany and a city of 50,000 people. But when you’re strolling around in central Siena, it still has the feel of a medieval hill town.
There are some nice shops nestled in Siena’s curvy streets. I remember one high-end shop in particular. A shop selling haute couture, perhaps? Nah. Fancy Italian shoes? Nah. It sold high-end food products. We’re in Italy, after all!
The Tiffany’s of Cured Meats
One section of the shop was like the Tiffany’s of cured meats. If you wanted to take a closer look at the mortadela in this section, you had to get someone to unlock a display case. And don’t even think about asking the price of one of their cured ham shoulders.
This morning, we were at a bus station in Florence when we boarded the bus for Siena. I was expecting to be let off at the “Siena Bus Station.” There is a bus station in Siena, but we never saw it.
Instead, the bus driver dropped us off at a bus stop. He spoke only italian. I tried to ask him where we should catch the bus back to Florence. I’m pretty sure he told me, “Giusto qui!” (Right here!).
Well of course, giusto qui! What was I thinking? Where else would someone catch the bus back to Florence?
We were a little nervous about that exchange, so we decided to allow ourselves plenty of time to get back to Florence.
We made our way back to the bus stop where we were dropped off this morning. It would have been nice to see a bus schedule posted there, but that would have been troppo facile. We’d just have to wait and see what happens.
Bus Ride Back from Siena
As it turned out, we didn’t have to wait long for a bus displaying a “Firenze” sign to show up. We got on board and started heading back toward Florence. Phew.
It was a local bus, so we traveled the back roads and stopped at small towns along the way. Even with all the stops, the ride took less than two hours.
The bus did make one stop that was different than all the rest – we were pulled over by the polizia.
We were on a back road, in between towns, in the middle of nowhere when the driver slowed down for no apparent reason. But there was a reason. There was the police car following us with its lights flashing.
The bus driver pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Two policemen parked behind us, got out of their car, and came on board. These two poliziotti were “armed and dangerous.”
Try to Look Innocent
Everyone on the bus seemed to be nervous. I know I was nervous. I’ve heard of people being arrested just for looking too nervous in the wrong situation – even if they had nothing to be nervous about. I wonder… do they allow you to make your one phone call when you land in an Italian jail?
The two poliziotti walked slowly and silently up and down the aisle of the bus. Clearly, they were looking for someone. Then one of the passengers sitting behind us stood up and they escorted him off the bus. Whoa.
There wasn’t any commotion or trouble. The passenger looked like a normal guy. But I don’t think they picked him because he’d just won tickets to the policemen’s ball.
We had no idea what that was all about. I wanted to ask someone on the bus, but my wiser Better Half advised against it. They might think we were in cahoots with the guy.
That would have been a great test for my italian, though, eh? That’s probably what my nervous Better Half was thinking, too.
To be continued…
Note:
Credit for the great photo of Siena at the top of this post: Itinari, a site for travelers.
