The Passeggiata in Siena: Taking a Walk on the Slow Side
by P.A. Moed in Europe , Italy
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Siena piazza on a summer night. Photo by Gary Cattell. |
When in Italy, we often avoid the big cities and search instead for old-world italia, where customs and rituals still create the framework of daily living. One of these traditions is the passeggiata, a slow walk before supper, where friends and relatives stroll arm-in-arm through the streets, chatting and laughing. It's not only a time to see and be seen. It's also a chance to meet up with business partners and friends and linger afterward over coffee, ice cream, or an aperitivo.
We've joined these processions in Monterroso, Parma, Maratea, Bergamo, and Taormina. Conversations are usually loud and dramatic. More and more, they take place on cell phones, the speakers' free hands gesturing wildly. As we join the stream of people, we often get friendly nods. When our son was young, the nonne winked at him and patted him on the head. But of all the places we've traveled throughout Italy, the passeggiata in Siena is truly the most memorable.
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Siena at night. Photo by Gary Cattell. |
Siena is situated in Tuscany, approximately 31 miles south of Firenze. It is designated as a 'day trip' by the tourist books, so the buses roll in early and leave in the late afternoon, when the town seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief. As the light fades behind the centuries-old buildings, the Siennese climb the winding streets in search of a few last-minute items for their supper and then ramble through the crooked streets with friends and family. This is when the true beauty of Siena reveals itself.
As we join the Siennese in Il Campo, the shell-shaped main piazza, it's easy to see why it's called one of Europe's greatest medieval squares. The 'floor' is paved with red brick and marble, set in a striking herringbone design, and divided by nine bands of travertine. Flanked by the Torre del Mangia and the zebra-striped Duomo, the white marble buildings lining the square take on a pinkish glow at sunset. The place radiates light and warmth. For over eight hundred years, the major events in Siena's history have taken place in or near this square.
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Siena door. Photo by Jen Maki. |
Of course, we have to climb to the top of the starkly elegant Torre del Mangia, which roughly translates into the Tower of Eating. 400 steps. 100 meters up. It's named for a quirky and hungry local bell ringer, Giovanni di Duccio, nicknamed Mangiaguadagni (my translation: you earn, you eat). Beneath us, the piazza is a bowl of light. And beyond, the land is strikingóverdant, rolling hills dotted with grandiose castles. But my eyes are drawn downward to the piazza spread out below me. People are talking in groups or sitting on the lip of the low wall surrounding the fountain. When a man laughs, his voice echoes off the stones and rises upward, sounding as if he's right next to me. At this moment, it's hard to imagine that the square is the site of the Palio--a fierce and passionate horse race dating back to pre-Christian times. (It's held every year on July 2 and August 16.)
Back down on the ground, we plunge into the lesser-known alleys where the light falls sharply across the stone facades, highlighting the blue and white street signs--Via dei Banchi di Sopra and Via dei Banchi di Sotto--named for all the medieval banks that held the pilgrims' money while they journeyed to Roma, supposedly penniless and penitent. The tranquility in this town was hard earned after centuries of strife, invasion, subjugation, and warfare. Even to this day, Siena and Firenze maintain a civil rivalry and are still the brunt of each other's jokes. This creates in me a sense of dislocation. Past and present merge and identities meld, a mixture of pre-Christian, medieval and modern.
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Siena sign. Photo by Jen Maki. |
Our walk has given us an appetite. We head to a local osteria where we eat ravioli con radicchio and penne fra diavolo and drink one of the superb local wines--perhaps a Brunello di Montalcino or a Carmignano. Both are famous the world over. The locals don't come in until 8:00 and act as if the restaurant is an extension of their kitchens. With smiles and handshakes, they greet the waiter and chat with the chef.
These moments are never mentioned in the guidebooks. They are revealed in a slow walk through town at sunset. That's why we savor them.
March 3, 2006
