Saturday we took the day completely off work, and drove out to San Gimignano, a well-preserved hill town, one of those Tuscan villages that Frances Mayes is so lyrical about. (In fact, her town, Cartona, is not too far away.) The ride out was a bit exciting, since the GPS was programmed for the STREET San Gimignano, so we had a bit of a wild goose chase at first. but we figured it out and were on our way.
When we arrived, we found quite the touristy trap, but not too crowded and charming. We visited one church (not in the mood to pay E5 each to visit the other), and invested in two espresso makers, since Tom has become attached to the one here, and had a terrific lunch -- lasagnette (fattish noodles) with wild boar sauce, the local specialty, for me, and rabbit remoulade for Tom.
The Tuscan countryside. 
San Gimignano is known for its towers, a sign of prosperity where merchants stored their inventories. There were many, but after the plague the town lost its independence and was taken over by Florence that insisted that it take down all but four of the towers.
A walled Tuscan village -- about 1000 years old.
But still growing.
No cars!
A local specialty that will not fit in the overhead compartment.
But these will!
Even though it was late in the day, we continued our country tour in Volterra, another walled city. We visited the main church, took in the views, and enjoyed an expresso and pastry before heading back. Again, an exciting trip with the GPS on the autostrada. As we arrived in Florence, the directions we were given seemed not quite right, and we were searching for a place to pull over to re-program the machine when it suddenly announced that we had arrived at our destination. Tom took a look around and realized that in fact we had. We are not quite sure how that happened, but we were indeed just ooutside tha parking garage across the small street from the apartment. Go figure.
Volterra. Note the battling TC dishes and antennae!
The exterior of the church, opening into the side of the altar....
The front door of the church.
The Etruscan gate, the most famous feature of Volterra.
Tom and I stopped in to watch an old fellow working on alabaster, the big noise in Volterra. Note the blurry, ancient dog -- who decided at that moment to start barking at us, so no better picture, I'm afraid. maybe next time....Sunday was a bit of a blur, since Tom's Saturday coughing turned into an ugly cold. So we did an errand or two, but basically he worked and napped, and I read.
Monday we did a flurry of errands before Tom returned to the office. One stop was the pharmacy, since my Tylenol supply had been exhausted. The pharmacist was unfamiliar with tylenol, but reocmmended another tablet. Last night I looked up the Italian name of the ingredient, and -- wait for it -- acetominiphrin: tylenol.
So I had most of the day to myself. First I walked across town to ship off our absentee ballots (shipped to us by Diana, merci buttercups) by DHL. Only E36, about $50, not too bad. Then I made my way to Santa Croce, the burial site of Michelangelo, Dante and Galileo (except for one finger that resides at the science museum, a must-see for a later day). It is also the location of some charming frescoes, although much of the church was shrouded in scaffolding for restoration work. One room houses the robe of St. Francis, which may actually be the real thing, as opposed to the relics of various other saints -- I've counted at least 11 fingers purportedly of John the Baptist, and that's just in this one town -- there must be hundreds scattered across the countryside.
The altar area completely obscured by scaffolding.
But the conservation work is as interesting as the church. I wish we could see more of it.
A monk serenading the workers on the organ.
Michelangelo's tomb.So following up for an earlier post, Michelangelo is not buried in the church he wanted (Santa maria Maggiroe in Rome), but in his neighborhood church Santa Croce in Florence. His tomb is not decorated with the figures he desgined and almost finished, but with someone else's quite inferior work. But perhaps he doesn't care, since he's gotten a fair amount of attention in the past 400 years.
Today Tom is returning to work, and I will be packing a bit for the trip to Venice tomorrow (we will leave most of our stuff here in the apartment, whcih will be enjoyed in our absence by friends Dominique and Francoise who are driving down from Switzerland for the weekend). When we return Sunday, Martha will be joining us for a few days -- we have reservations (now required) for the Uffizi and the Accademia, and we are looking forward to a bit of shopping, although the prices are not encouraging.
No time to spellcheck, so hang in there....more soon!
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