“I-ah waz-ah born in Pisa,” she says with a conspiratorial wink, as if that explains it all. “These Sienese live-ah in-ah de Middle Ages!” I hope no one else at the bus stop understands English as she continues loudly, in her wonderful Italian-English, to explain the bus system, its numbering, which bus goes to the train station, the history of the train system, the economy of Italy. “Thees boos it-ah was not for city use but it-ah was born for students,” she explains the use of school buses being used for city transport while students are in school. “Bastards!” she calls the politicians who cause job uncertainty and who don’t build enough railway tracks. I am glad I asked this lady if this was the right bus and that she broke forth with a waterfall of English words. I learn more in half an hour on the bus together than I have all week.
The way Italians talk keeps throwing me for a loop. It can be in a restaurant or in a shop or just on a street corner. Suddenly we’ll hear this heated debate that gets louder and more violent by the second. The voices are angry, loud, everyone shouting at the same time. If this was the USA, I’d expect someone to start shooting. Or at the very least I think they’re going to draw knives soon. I want to get out of there, fast, before real trouble starts. But then I – or they – turn around or come around the corner and I realize they’re all smiling, clapping each other on the shoulder, even kissing each other on the cheeks. It was only a simple, friendly chat! I’d hate to hear a real argument in Italian… I’m not sure if there is a law against talking on your cell phone in Italy. If there is, no one adheres to it. The biggest problem is that they all talk like Italians, with both hands. Even while driving….
I’m grateful to have gone through school in The Netherlands. We had no option but to learn languages. Even in elementary school we had French. In High School they added English and German. Now, when we hike or roam around Italian towns, we can have a conversation with a German family, answer a lost Frenchman and secretly listen in to a Dutch group’s comments on an Italian statue…
When we started hiking, I had to find a way to leave my luggage behind. We’re traveling for two months: one month exploring Italy and one month of working in international schools. I needed dressier clothes and shoes for schools, but hiking clothes for the rest of the time. As always, I take cabin luggage only but I still can’t lug it all with me. The lovely At Home hotel in Lucca (still my favourite) agreed to store it for me. I checked the Trenitalia website and, at a glance, it’s easy to go back from Siena to Lucca to retrieve my luggage after the week’s hiking.
In reality however, it turns into an amazing race Italy. I have to leave our AirBnB cottage outside Siena at 7 AM to catch a bus – the one this wonderful woman is helping me to locate – into the city to reach the train station. There I verify the train times, buy a return ticket – all in Italian – and embark on my train adventure. From Siena to Empoli I whizz by many of the towns where we just walked and see them in a whole new perspective. From the train I notice that the ancient city center on top of a hill has spilled over, like a bubble bath, into the valley below. So that’s where they keep the industrial areas, the train stations, the apartment buildings. We did not see any of that while walking the Via Francigena. Hiking here is like being in a green cocoon.
In Empoli I change trains to Pisa, with 30 seconds to spare. When the train pulls out, I recognize several passengers from the previous train on the platform. They’ve all missed this connection, probably adding hours to their journey. From Pisa to Lucca is not far, then I walk across the city walls into the center, retrieve my luggage and retrace my steps. This time trains take me from Lucca to Florence. From Florence to Siena and back on the bus. What was only a half inch on the map, took about 10 hours!
In a few days I have to meet Kees in Viterbi. The train schedule for that little jaunt looks as follows: Siena, Chiusi – Chianciano Terme, transfer to train to Attigliano – Bomarzo, then to Viterbi Porta Florentina and then a bus to Porta Romano. There is a bus all the way but it doesn’t go on Wednesdays. But if I leave shortly after 7 AM, I’ll get there late afternoon. If all goes well…
But now I am settled for the next week into a lovely little cottage. I found it on AirBnB: attached to an old, yellow Tuscan country home on the outskirts of Siena, it has a bedroom, a kitchen corner, a modern bathroom and wifi. “Did you build this addition?” I ask the owner. He laughs, “No, it is 300 years old…” It’s perfect for a week long writer’s retreat as I have to finish several manuscripts. I stock up on wine, cheese and coffee and am all set to work while Kees continues another 200 or 300 KM towards Rome.