Tuscany: By Way of Panda (part 5)

Everyone was up fairly early the next morning. The young morning was shockingly foggy. In fact the whole panorama out of my window was completely blanketed in a thick looming cloud. I had hope that the afternoon sun would burn it off however which it in fact did. By the time we were out and about there remained only sifting pockets here and there, mostly in the valleys. We once again drove up and over the rolling Tuscan hills yet this drive was even more breathtaking than its predecessors. Somehow despite our rising expectations as the bar continued to be raised, each drive exceeded every other. Astounding. One final cresting slope on this particular excursion brought us into full view of what has been called the “Manhattan of Medieval Cities” the hilltop fortress city of San Gimignano. From a distance I could easily see how it had received such a modern moniker. Rising tall and ancient all over the city were no less than a dozen stone towers. Match that against rolling vineyards and cutting mountains in the background and I was smitten. We spent the whole morning and early afternoon exploring this Tuscan gem. I can easily say it is one of my favorite Italian cities. It’s just so unique, so worth the trip. There is no doubt in my mind we would have lost ourselves within its tall aged stone walls for the rest of the day if we did not have an all important horseback riding date. Reluctantly we bid farewell to the our walled city wonder and let the Panda carry us back to the horse farm.

This ride was much like the first one. Beautiful day, amiable chargers, and astonishing scenery. Basically, dreams within dreams and fantasies beyond fantasies. I will never forget those afternoons. Not as long as I live.

Our evening was causal and relaxing. Rain clouds had traveled from the nearby sea across our local mountains to our doorstep just in time to graduate to full blown storm factories. We were not daunted. Armed with an American football, a camera and protected by Pedro we left on an adventure through the vineyard. Still ominous in memory, the stone clouds loomed overhead as we tossed the ball back and forth intermittently jumping to catch Pedro or chase him through the rows of grapevines. The rain did not come and so our pace was never quickened. We simply walked were we desired and aimlessly chattered about the day, the dawn, and the dance. I don’t think even one of us could tell you if what we were living was real life or the projections of a mad magician artist turned screen write. My heart swells just thinking of those days.

Spirits were definitely not as light the next morning. It was our time to go and not one of us wanted it. Saying goodbye to Giuseppe was tragic enough but petting Pedro for the last time was near unbearable. The poor chap knew what was going on and was barely capable of lifting his little head. Tremendous animal. The drive back to Pisa was quiet. Our spirits were certainly not down, I mean we were on our way to visit the Leaning Tower for goodness sake, I think the weekend was just so memorable that no one could let go just yet. Honestly, I still don’t think I have been able to let go.

Pisa played to a different tune. No so big a city as Rome or even Florence, but still very touristy. Certainly much the opposite of what we had just come from. I liked it though. We got a little lost trying to find the Tower but eventually stumbled up the square. It leans just as they say and there is a beautiful cathedral and baptistery right next to it, but other than that there is not a whole lot to see in Pisa. We spent no more than half an hour clicking cheesing pictures of us holding up the tower and stuff before we felt we had seen enough and it was time to return to real life. Or as real as life can be in Italy. We gassed up the car returned it to the rental company and hoped our first of seven trains we would take to arrive home that night. A stark contrast to the freedom our little Panda had afforded us. Yet, the Panda was never meant to be for always and neither is my time in Italy, so my attempts to capture every moment are never wasted even on seven hour train trips. Roll credits.