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Urg. Rome to Chiusi was a fairly pleasant 1 1/2 hour train ride, shared with two nice Canadians and one irritated Italian (who was trying to sleep). Then we got off the train and onto the bus from Chiusi to Siena. We should recover sometime around October -- 2004.
Hari pointed out that it was a good thing we had both sides of the road, since we seemed to be needing both of them. Eric gurgled in agreement. For some reason, the roads in Tuscany, which was filled with straight, rectangular fields, wind and curve like MC Escher drawings.
We arrived in Siena about two, and promptly sat down and stared at the floor of the train station for half an hour. Then we got on the wrong bus with 7,000 other people, and somehow managed to end up in the right place without anyone checking our tickets.
We found the hotel with no more difficulty, which was good, because getting in and finding our room was about as difficult as either of us could handle. The reception was up three flights of stairs, but our room was tucked in the back, at the top of two full spiral staircases with bright red stairs and completely inadequate railings. A narrow gangway ran along the side of the wall, like a path hugging a cliff, and led to our room, which was clean and had a view of the Duomo over the red rooftop. The shower and bathroom were the same -- just a drain in the middle of the floor, which was interesting and messy.
Eric's friend Marisa, who was studying in Siena for the summer, turned herself into a thoroughly engaging tour guide for the evening, and led us around the city and found us a great traditional Tuscan dinner.
We missed our early train out of Siena, because, for some reason, buses do not go to the train station when someone wants them to. We spent half an hour running frantically from bus to bus at the bus station, with another pair of tourists following close behind, asking each bus where the stop was for the train station. Each of them pointed to a different spot, but it was ok, because no buses came anyway.
The bus finally arrived about 8:14, which was perfect so that we could still entertain faint hopes of making our 8:15 train, provided it left only five minutes late, which, of course, it didn't. Although we caught the next train, the delay cut short our time in Pisa by half an hour.
This turned out not to be a bad thing. The leaning tower is, to its credit, prettier in person. Hari didn't feel well, however, so the walking and the heat weren't all that great. An hour and a half to get off the train, take a taxi to the tower, take a taxi back to the station and get on the train to our next destination was just fine.
