Early morning out the door. One last trek down the 62 steps. A quick reconnaissance by me to see if our cafe was open this early. No. Off we trudged, pulling or carrying our packs, down the fast track towards Piazza Navona where the taxis hang out. One was waiting, and we hopped in and zipped to the train station.
I warned everyone to keep an extra eye out for their belongings. We already had our tickets, since we had taken the opportunity while at the train station returning from Ostia Antica to buy them ahead of time. In usual Virgo style, we had plenty of time before the train was due to arrive. We had coffee at the coffee shop, sitting down awhile at a table. The train ended up being an hour late.
It finally arrived and in the scramble to get on, Mom had her change purse ripped off out of her day purse. She got on before me, and two young girls squeezed in between us. In the distraction of schlepping bags and getting a seat, they had unzipped her bag and pinched her coin purse. I felt really crappy about it, not just because she lost 50 Euro and her special purse, but because somehow I felt I could have prevented it. I had a sense something wasn’t right but wasn’t quick enough to figure out what until after the deed had been done and the two girls were long gone before the train ever left the station.
In that same crush, Gino felt a hand go to his outside pants pocket. Nothing was in there, but he still gave a slap to the leg. The crowded confusion of the trains and metro can be treacherous to the pocketbook. Always wear a money belt and don’t carry anything above board you can’t afford to lose.
Mom took it well, and we rode on towards Siena, our next destination. Siena is a special place for Gino and me. I wrote about an adventure we had there in 1996. See Sleepless in Siena.
Since the train was so tardy, we ended up missing our train connection in Chiusi. We had to wait about an hour for the connector bus that took everyone in the same predicament to Siena. The bus ride was nice, even though I was a tad miffed that my Virgo plan had been foiled. We arrived in Siena two hours later than I had planned, which meant to me two hours of exploring time wasted. But “it’s all part of the adventure,” to borrow a theme from a past trip.
Arriving in Siena, we snagged a taxi which deposited us directly in front of our new abode on Via Pantaneto: Palazzo Bruchi.
We checked in with the proprietor, Maria Cristina Masignani, a lovely signora who seemed like a countess from earlier days. The palazzo has been in the family for centuries. Once opulent, it is now fraying somewhat around the edges but still reminiscent of past glory days. The signora showed us our rooms — through the heavy wooden door from the street outside (use your little green door key), walk through the inside covered courtyard where a dusty little white Cinque Cento lives. I had Gino take a picture of me standing lovingly by it. (I want one of these cars!)
Then, walk out the back into an outside courtyard surrounded by tangled greenery, overlooking the outskirts of Siena. Every evening, in the not-too-far distance, the enormous church of San Domenico glowed. Finally scurry up the outdoor stone staircase and onto a small landing from which four rooms and a communal kitchenette opened up. We were perched directly over the biblioteca of the university.
In the communal fridge we stashed cheese, salami, tomato, and a couple other food items which we had brought from Rome. There were some awful looking Twinkie things in the rooms, but we never touched them! We did see some luscious looking peaches on the kitchen counter and we ate one. We were mortified to later realize that the peach must have belonged to one of the other guests. Karma bit back because a couple days later someone had eaten our cheese and tomato!
