Saturday, August 14, 2004

Easy Pisa

Where did I get to...? Ah yes, the cathedral in Pisa. As I mentioned, after discovering the certain special things that made our hotel fall squarely into the 1* bracket, we went to use and visit the cathedral. The initial shock came when upon presenting ourselves at the door, we were abruptly told "Ticket!?". I didn't know if it was a statement or a question at the time, but it didn't really matter. We put on the "You would make pilgrims pay to use your church for what it was built for, eh?" face, and were similarly abruptly sent to another, smaller, side door. Here we were told, no, no, no, this is only for praying. Well, yes, actually.
Despite the undeniable beauty of the small side chapel, with its stunning carved ceiling, fairly intimate altar and wonderful array of paintings around the walls, I cannot honestly say that this was a place conducive to prayer, since it was really just a bit of the church roped off from tourists: sadly rope is not an effective barrier to the sound of yelling children, chattering tourists, and the frequent flashes of cameras. It certainly gave the impression, be it true or not, that religion had been brushed firmly into the corner here. Having said that, I do appreciate the efforts that had been made to keep that corner apart from the masses. Having used the chapel for what was, I imagine, its original intended use, we bought a ticket and touristed our way around the rest of the staggering edifice.
Enormous, impressive, beautiful, expansive, expensive, awe-inspiring even: all words that sprang to mind. But also, for me, cold, vacuous, devoid of religious focus, distant... Sadly, I felt that both its design and construction combined with the the prostitution of a building originally crafted for the public good in mind, had rendered impotent any sense of holiness. Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that churches are not maintained without funding, but to make an entry fee mandatory, in my view, is to suggest that the church stands no longer for openness and acceptance, but rather is an enclosed, almost preserved, but stale antiquity. I personally think that Bath Abbey, amongst others, has got the policy right - give people a personal welcome as they come in, offering them the opportunity to contribute £2 or more if they want.
Rant over. Despite all this, I think the building is quite remarkable - in particular, James astutely noted that if you stood in the middle and looked west, the building resembled, in shape at least, Trinity College chapel; looking East however, it resembled much more St. John's. There is a truly amazing carved pulpit, in marble, which is definitely worth five minutes and the collection of vast paintings around the walls is remarkable though hard to see owing to bad lighting.
We took a walk through the centre of the old town, down to the river, which is undervisited as it is all of 500 yards from the cathedral. The great thing about the cathedral square, with the leaning tower, the cathedral and baptistry all in the same, easily accessible open space, is that it is very easy tourism. One might say it is the Classic FM of tourist sites - there's lots of open space, so everyone can take the same photo, and get the whold group of buildings in the view finder. For the more adventurous, you can get a photo taken where you seem to be holding up the tower (we've all seen one at some point I think!), and there are little stalls selling food, drink, postcards and off-the-back-of-a-lorry Vercase, Vouis Luitton, and Guchi sunglasses etc. dotted all along the square. The hotels are all within 5 minutes of the cathedral, so this is genuinely the perfect place for lazy tourism.
I think that's why lots of people I know, and indeed myself (after my 2002 trip) think that Pisa is industrial and boring. In fact, to my surprise as much as anyone's, the old town of Pisa is really very beautiful. True, there is nothing to do. But the old buildings and little squares are very well preserved, and most of them are tourist free.
So I guess that despite grumpily trying very hard not to like Pisa, actually we both did.

The following morning however, it was Friday 13th. The walls of our room were freckled with mosquitos squashed during the night and our bodies were freckled with bites. We had waged war under the cover of darkness (our arsenal including citronella and a big swatting-book) and, as with all wars, both sides had taken heavy casualties. Scratching and tired, we rolled out of bed. Breakfast was enjoyable though in a nearby cafe (1* hotels not being the centre of the breakfast world), and we set off eventually after failed Internet searches for hotels and diary writing, at about 12.30.

A tail wind of about 15 knots gave us a heafty shove in the right direction, and soon, after very little effort we came to a little cafe in a small town called Pontedera. The day had been going well so far, the route very Tuscan, with pine trees, vineyards and sunshine. It was at this point that James asked me where his passport was. It turned out that it wasn't in his panniers, my panniers, or in fact anywhere except where-ever he had left it: a piece of information which wasn't readily available. He rang home, and his father rang the hotel, he being an Italian speaker. When he rang back, he reported that the hotelier had been as "helpful as a dung-beetle". The hadn't found the passport (or even looked I suspect). James' dad, brilliantly however, gave us the number of the british consulate in Rome, who actually answered the phone, indeed actually answered the phone in a British accent! Apparently he can get a new one in Rome when we get there. So please, readers, don't panic... it's all under control, there's no need to send aid parcels etc. we're fine!
We cycled on along the beautiful wide valley past San Miniato (but just looked at the monastery from a distance) until we came to the genuinely industrial Poggibonsi. Everyone in Tuscany knows that Poggibonsi isn't very nice. That's why they crowd all their industries in there. After chasing the tourist office round the town a couple of times, the lady in the office, the first genuinely helpful Italian of the trip, found us a B&B in Colle Val d'Elsa. We cycled off.
This little village, spilling over the side of a hill, is an absolute charm and delight. The lady of the B&B speaks perfect Aussie english, and the old town is truly gorgeous. As I parked our bikes in a garage round the back of the building in which we are housed, I was captured by the garage owner who had kindly offered its services. "Come and see what I'm doing", he said. I went. He was retired it turned out, and operated a little workshop out of his other garage, where he made beautiful geometric shapes in wood and those infuriating little puzzle toys which you can never put back together. He told me that each shape had a different meaning and power, and that in order to complete the puzzle correctly I would have to have a well centred mind and my left and right brain in harmony. I took the puzzle back and fiddled with it while James had a shower.
10 minutes leater I had cracked it, and feeling rather smug, took it back to him. James joined me. Garage-man looked at it, and wanted to know my technique. Apparently I hadn't used the technique of the master, I had 'right-brained' the puzzle - too scientific, he said. I lose.
He started to explain about some of the shapes he made, some of the carved images, energy centres, masculine and feminine geometry, Icosohedrons... in a slightly 'hair-shirt and sandals' way, it was absolutely fascinating. He said that in his retirement he was studying the similarity of religions etc.
Eventually we were both hungry, our energy levels were sufficiently balanced, and it was 9pm. The walk up into the old town was beautiful. If you are passing YOU MUST VISIT COLLE VAL D'ELSA. As the B&B lady put it, it's an imperfect, better version of San Gimigniano, without the tourists. Gorgeous. We'll both be sorry to leave, but I suspect, as with so many of the little places we have passed through, we'll be back.
Jacob, James' friend arrived this morning, so James has spent the morning with him. He walked here overnight from San Gim. (puts our cycle to shame I think) and in good spirits (mostly Grape vodka(!)), told us he hadn't slept for 48 hours. Italian coffee is a marvel of modern science!
I chatted over breakfast to a delightful couple, teachers, from Germany. They had a guide book and gave me some numbers of hotels in San Quirico d'Orcia, near where we hope to arrive this evening.
Four days to the Vatican: excitement is building, particularly for James who has never been there. I hope St. Peter, and his basilica, will live up to expectations. We have already booked our hotel - "ain't no stopping us now... we're on the move!" (that great lyricist Tina Turner, I think - or was it Sister Sledge?).

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