Back in Siena Again

Miles from Home - 5499.3
Firsts / Highlights - Made the ride, ferry, 2 trains and another ride to get back to Siena. Excellent dinner at a medieval restaurant.
Miles Ridden - 19.59 miles
Vertical Feet - 2,158 ft
Route - View Today's Route Here.
People - Just me.


Visualizza Siena in una mappa di dimensioni maggiori

This post is from June 12, 2009.



I returned today from Elba to my quickly-becoming-home-base of Siena. This is a lively place on a Friday night. It is midnight right now, and I just returned from il Campo (the main town square). Everyone is dressed up and socializing. There is a lot of being seen, some eating, some drinking and the usual flirting. It was noticeable, however, that I didn’t see anything that looked like excessive drinking with a very young crowd late on a Friday. I have also not seen any open signs of drug dealing or use during all of my time in Italy. Obviously it exists, but you could easily convince yourself it didn’t from outward appearances.

When I say the crowd was young, I mean that if I could divide myself into two people, both of us would be in the prime demographic (I'm not talking about the kid on the scooter). As it is, the one of me felt a little like the lecherous old man mingling in the crowd. There were a few of us old farts sitting around the edges of the plaza, but it didn’t seem like a scene where I was going to be pulled into too many conversations.

There always seems to be a young heart to Siena, but on Friday night, it is really out there to be seen.

Getting here today was a little tense a couple of times. I rode my bike from my hotel to the ferry station as planned (15 miles). Once I got to Portoferaria, I thought I was at least ½ hour ahead of schedule. I grabbed lunch to take on the boat and casually headed to the ferry. There was not a lot else to do, so I decided to board early. At least I thought I was early. In reality, I was rushed on at the last second just as the ship blew its whistle and pulled out of the harbor. I later checked my itinerary, and found that I simply mis-remembered the departure time. If I had missed it, I could have caught another ferry an hour later, but my train schedule might not have been so easy. Just got lucky.

After the ferry landed on the mainland, I rode to the train station in the same town (only about 1 mile away). The station was unstaffed, but since I had a Eurail Pass, I didn’t give it a second thought. When any train arrives, it is a good idea to get on immediately since some stops only last about 1 minute. I carried my bike onto the designated bike car, and was met by the conductor asking where my bike ticket was. Bike ticket? I have never needed a bike ticket. He did not speak a word of English, and the only thing I understood was that he wanted a bike ticket, he was very insistent on it and he wasn’t going to be the one to sell it to me. Without anyone in the train station to sell a ticket of any kind, I was a little stumped for what to do.

As the discussion developed, my bike was already on the train, so my plan was that if the train started to move, I would make a dive for an open door. I couldn’t let the train leave with my bike. Through gestures, the conductor took my backpack and helmet and locked them in the locomotive compartment. He signaled for me to follow him down the platform. If the train were to leave now, I would be without my bike, clothing, money or passport. I didn’t think he was kicking me off the train, but the language barrier was becoming more serious than any other point on the trip. I was a little surprised that I understood enough to know what he was upset about, but I couldn’t make out anything about what he wanted me to do about it. I guess that represents a little progress in Italian, but not enough to be of the slightest practical use.

It turns out he was walking down the train looking for a car with someone who spoke English. In this part of Italy, it took a few cars before we located someone. We eventually ran into a Norwegian woman who had just spent the weekend on Elba taking an Italian language course. She told me that the conductor was trying to tell me that the train would stop for 15 minutes 2-stops down the line where I could get off and purchase a bike ticket. The woman accompanied me into the station and we were able to get it straightened out. The ticket only cost 3.50 euro, but made things a little more interesting than they needed to be. The funny thing was that the conductor never even checked to see if I had a ticket for myself. He was just very concerned that my bike didn’t ride for free.

In spite of the tight spots, the logistics-laden trip from Siena to Elba and back was a success. Bike, ferry and train only. Still no car on my itinerary after 1-½ months.

Speaking of language. I am still learning how much I don’t know. The other day, I learned how to pronounce the letters of my last name like you would if you spelled your name over the telephone. It hadn’t occurred to me that learning to say the letters of the alphabet would be such new territory. In Italian, H-O-W-I-E is pronounced

H = Acca
O = Aw
W = Doppia-Voo
I = Ee
E - Eh

I also learned that Chuck Cerasoli would not be a Sar-ah-SOLE-ee if his family still lived in Italy. It would be something more like CHAR-ah-sole-ee. I may not have that exactly right, but I am pretty sure about the Ce being pronounced Che. Chuck – come clean. What’s your REAL name?



I had my last dinner in Siena at a restaurant that looked so cool I might not have noticed if the food was marginal (it wasn't). If a U.S. company wanted to make a chain of restaurants with a midieval Italian theme, this is probably how they would try to make it look. The only thing they couldn't match is that this place was actually 700 years old. You can't see in the picture, but the open staircase goes up 3 stories to some unknown destination.

The flags on the walls represent the districts of Siena. There are 17 very strong neighborhood districts in this little city. Each has their own flag and drum corp that march through the streets regularly. It isn't just for show. I walked through a neigborhood where they had closed off the street for an outdoor dinner party in preparation for the upcoming Palio horse race. All of the people wore their district flags around their necks. No tourists to perform for, just flying the colors for themselves -- and maybe to show up their neighbors.

Arrivederci Siena.