just like Walden Pond

Back in 1999, Liana and I took a trip around New England. A day of that was spent in Concord, including a walk out to Walden Pond. When we got there, I was surprised to find it a favorite of the locals...as a swimming hole. Gads of people. Hordes of people. It was hot there and the walk did us no good. But that, is another tale.

The final stop on yesterday's road trip was San Gimignano, between Siena and Florence. Most of the ancient walls and towers are still intact in this medieval hill town. It makes for quite a walk.

It was also the setting for E.M. Forster's novel: Where Angels Fear To Tread. I have read that novel enough to have a fairly fixed image of what the town looked like. Like Walden, it was not what I was expecting. Can you guess in what way? Other than the novel takes place 100 years ago, of course...

A classmate took a few of the shots, so that I could show off my noggin.

An old-school staircase. No tourists here...But, a story...Three of us had gone in search of a wine bar known to classmate A as a top notch locals ristorante with an excellent view. Classmate B for some reason grows wary of this off-track approach to liquid refreshment. B voices concern for our safety, honestly believing that one or the both of us may end up in a bathtub of ice, missing a kidney. Just then, a phat mercedes comes around the corner, and I said, "There is our ride out...in the trunk." Haha, I thought that was funny. B had seen too many Coppola films and turned around to head back. A and I went on another 50 feet and found this staircase. It led up. At the top, we found not the kidney extractor, but instead, the wine bar. Unfortunately, it was going to open in an hour, about the time our bus was set to depart.
Your narrator hiding amongst the trees...
Tuscan countryside from the wall...
Action shot utilizing local birdlife.
It was hot, there was a crush of tourists, mostly Germans, English-speakers, Japanese. The locals were selling gelatto, that universal italian treat, or wine, that other universal italian treat. My medieval image of the village was dashed by the onslaught of humanity, the massive tour buses belching forth black exhaust, the .50/euro bathroom price the town was charging (in their defence, the bathrooms _were_ clean). Too bad our trip there was not on a Tuesday. But perhaps we would have fared no better.

I was indeed surprised at the lack of adventure in my classmate B. Afterall, he came to Florence, right? He is in law school, right? Maybe there is only so much risk a person can take.

I still have both of my kidneys, by the way.