San Gimignano is Not, Repeat, NOT For the Faint-Hearted

Now, there are two reasons why I am giving such a warning. One, if shear, utter landscape-beauty hurts your eyes and makes you collapse upon the soft warm grassy knoll in fits of terrifying agony, then please, do not FORCE yourself to go to San Gimignano.

On the other hand, if you think landscapes are pretty groovy and are willing to commit at least 30 minutes to sitting right outside the wall, mostly keeping to yourself, and staring directly at the greenery in front of you, then by god with all your might, do not go to the torture museum.

It seems I have been dreaming of Tuscan landscapes,  though I don't think I ever knew that it was exactly what I was looking for. I'm not even sure if I knew it existed. You see, no matter what kind of photo I post, it is nothing like looking down over it, with your own two eyes. And even though my love of photography is indestructible, I believe with all my heart that there are things that simply cannot be photographed, and can only be seen and kept sacred through our memory. No worries though! I still tried:

So Saturday around 10:15 am, I boarded a bus headed for San Gimignano with about 13 other students, Fabio, our tour guide extraordinaire and Lisa, a woman working on developing The Siena School's art program. (You know I overheard something about a post-bac, but I don't want to spread any academic rumors.)

And of course, San Gimignano is wonderful. It's a lot smaller than Siena, but still has it's own unique charm. There was a quick second when I thought: "Well gosh! Why didn't I study here?"Don't worry though, no regrets coming from this ol' lady. 

Let me restate once again, though, that if you please, do not even think about entering the torture museum.

You can see me here, being photographed by my friend Jeanie (yes that is my new backpack), and yes, it's true, we left just a bit early. As we reached the basement level, where 10 of us in a very small space saw a cloaked figure in front of a noose, and two other hideous bloody fake people that I actually cannot remember the exact position of because I have obviously blocked it from my memory, I turned to dear Jean, and said  "Andiamo," she nodded and said "Thank you for 'andiamo-ing' that." Thank goodness we left, because, you see, after just witnessing the horrific truths of the past, you walk outside, and find a charming medieval city, where, gosh I don't know, fairy tales take place or something. It's as if torture never existed. Honestly, there was violin music filtering down the hill. So we moved quickly and got a slice of delicious pizza. 

Then, with the smell of the museum finally moving away, we walked towards a garden, where, among other things, a man with a deep vibrato recited from memory Dante's Inferno.  With all of my heart I could not be making this up. Either the residents of San G. knew exactly the kind of tourists a Saturday would bring, or Italy in the summertime is just a place of pure magic.

I'll spare you the details of the second torture museum (oh yes, oh yes). Well just a quick explanation. The first museum was overall torture. People who stole bread, committed adultery, or gosh who knows, smiled on the wrong day--that was the first torture museum. The second was just for witches. Witches, i.e. women, i.e. beyond grotesque. The only slightly amusing thing about all of this was the chain necklace of joker cards a man was forced to wear if he was caught smoking without the proper license. 

But never mind all that--walking past the one man show, we entered the garden at the top of San Gimignano. Covered in olive trees it was some kind of Eden, and of course, after climbing stairs on the edge of the medieval walls, one could once again see the entire Tuscan region before them. And from another little corner, every single famous tower of the small town were in magnificent perspective. Well, that and someone's laundry.

Finally, I leave you with this chuckle-a-minute masterpiece. San Gimignano also has claim to the best gelato in the world, or as Fabio dubbed it "Super Gelato". One thing I know I will severly miss when I leave Italy is nocciola. 'Dunkin Donuts Hazelnut Iced Coffee' just doesn't do it for me, I'm afraid. So here I am, chowing down on gelato: nocciola, tirimisu, and fragola. Weird combination, I know, but hey, it was all delicious. I'm still working on being able to finish a whole cone, though. I eventually had to turn this one over to a few friends to finish it off. My schoolmate and friend, Devin Daugherty was able to capture this image before that.

So to wrap it up, no I have not yet had nightmares about torture instruments, and I'm trying to keep it that way. I'm working my way through the last week of intensive Italian, and studying a little extra bit every night for the big test coming up on Friday. Then I'm free as a bird and the real classes start! 

My love to all, and I hope September is being reasonable to all of you!

Becca