Just returned from the daylong trip up North. It's late, I'm tired, I'm waiting until tomorrow - which is also full day in the Chapter - to upload today's experience. Prudence prevails.
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Okay, now I'm ready to talk about yesterday. But be warned, this is likely to be a long(er) entry. We've just finished the morning session (May 21st) for the Chapter, so there's a good break (lunch and siesta) until folks reassemble.
The travel day yesterday began early at 5:45 AM, since Roch wanted to get the vehicle fueled up before leaving. But we found out that the stations were closed so we would have to wait until later in the morning. Around 7 AM, I was outside the CIL building hanging around the car that I thought we were using. During that time I made some calls to the States to follow up with some Contacts about summer plans (it's evening in the U.S. of course). After the calls, when none of the Brothers had showed up, I walked to the front of the Motherhouse and found the whole group standing there waiting for me. The car we would use was parked elsewhere. Oops.
Roch and I got the car and brought it over. It's called a "Pullman" here and is actually a Ford van-type car with stick-shift and nine comfortable seats - three in front, in the middle and in the back. The group loaded up and we took off. The stick-shift bit took a bit of getting used to, but soon my old bus-driver experience kicked in and I felt comfortable with the vehicle. However, it certainly is a different thing to drive here in Italy. These drivers are crazy! Some go very slowly, even on the highways (although that may have to do with the age of their small, older model cars) so that unless you really pay attention you could plow right into them, and other race by like you're standing still, and my speed was 120 kmh (is that legal?). You have to really check your mirrors before moving over to the fast lane or the slow lane, or anywhere for that matter(this is for those who actually pay attention to those little stripey things on the road). Once a car passes you, it moves immediately over in front of your car - no signal, and nothing more than three inches between your front bumper and their back bumper. And each moment you can expect everything to change - immediately. Within the first 5 miles of the three-lane GRA highway turned into a number of unexpected detours around construction sites - and of course no "Detour coming up" in sight. One minute you're going 110 kmp and a few seconds later you're swirving through cones and broken asphalt like an Mario Andretti, trying frantically to shift down to second gear while watching the crazy drivers around you who nonchalantly are on their cell phones, smoking, and trying to pass you at the same time.
Once we'd reached the A1 going North and used our "Telepass" to go through a toll booth, one of the Brothers felt an urgent call to nature. The problem was that we had passed a sign indicating that next gas station was 54 kilometers away. Things couldn't wait that long, and so we pulled over on a sidestrip of the highway, near some bushes and trees. Enough said. While waiting for things to come to their natural completion, a small car pulled in about 100 meters up ahead and then maneuvered backwards toward us. Roch said, "I hope that that's not the police." It was a dark car, with several serious faces looking at us out the back window. Once they came closer, however, we saw that it was Br. Leonardo with a group of Brothers who were going in the same direction and thought that we had car trouble. Gestures of smiles, thumbs up, and motions into the bushes conveyed the situation, and they smiled, waved and went on their way.
Of course, within 5 kilometers, there indeed was a gas station (lesson learned: don't trust the signs you read in Italy - confirmed several times during this trip) where we pullel in for fuel and also caught up with the car of Brothers. They were on their way to Assisi for the day. It made me think of perhaps doing that next week; today would be Siena.
On the road again for quite a while. The one nice thing that I found about the roads here is that if you miss a major turn, a little while later there are signs saying that there's an turnaround overpass just for you coming up. And indeed it is. You get off the main road and the single lane goes over the highway and descends on the other side going in the other direction. Perhaps it is in order to drum up business for these overpasses that the road signs seem to be geared to make you miss your turn. Before coming up to a major turn, there are lots of signs - big ones. But then when the turn happens, there's a tiny sign saying, in effect, "This is it." But it's either buried in a tree of different signs (6 stacked on top of each other, in different colors and fonts to boot), or it's so hidden that you only know about it unconsciously, through what you've picked up via peripheral vision as you zoom by; the brain give you that niggling thought, "I think missed something important back there." It happened to us a number of times. I ended up consciously slowing down when signs came up, with all three of us in the front seat glancing through the information like graduates of an Evelyn Wood speed-reading course, hoping to get enough information to process after we'd passed the sign. "Was that the one? Should we turn around, becauseI'm good at that now? What are we looking for again?"
Arriving in Siena we hunted around for the old city ("It's up there, where those towers are.") and when we reached the gates I followed Br. Anton's advice and took an immediate right, looking for a place to park along the streets. We managed to do so - I only bumped the other car a little bit during the parallel parking maneuver - and we headed for the big old buildings in the distance, with church bells pealing all around us. As we moved through the streets, alleys gave way to steps in tiny corridors and then to small, ancient-looking alleys where we took some photos before finding our way to the larger streets and eventually to the great "Piazze del Campo" where they have that annual horse race, complete with medieval pageantry, flags, crowds, and lots of great food for sale amidst all the horsiness.
The obligatory photographs out of the way, we decided to meet back together at 1:30 PM for lunch and 5:00 PM for end-of-day decisions. Three of us (myself, Br. Michael Avila, and Br. Solomon from Ethiopia) decided to climb the huge tower dominating the piazza - all 400 steps worth (7 Euro each please) - for the views from the top.
That little trip took a while, as you may imagine (I've got to exercise more), but the views were quite worth it. Inside the tower, I paid attention to some of the details of the tower's construction, also running into the clock mechanism, and even though the marble steps are well-worn from all of tourists who climb up and down daily, it's all in remarkably good shape. Once on top, you can look out over the city and the surrounding countryside for miles around. It's one of the nicest views from the top of a building that I've yet seen. There's are several bells located up there, but they seem to be museum pieces now. Then the bells from churches in the area began to ring at 11 AM - a beautiful sound echoing in from the many churches that are located within the old city or just beyond. Then suddenly, the big bell that's only 5 feet away starts going at it. Yikes! That thing was loud! Sometimes a little distance is a good thing.
Eventually, I went down the 400 steps (easier than going up) and made my way to the huge cathedral where I was just in time to catch the noon Mass, in Italian of course. It's funny that on Sundays the tour guides let people in for Mass only, and we can bypass the ticket booth, but as soon as Mass is over they shoo everyone out and you have to pay your 3 Euro to see anything inside. The congregation was fairly small, and it made me reflect on the fact that in it's heyday this Mass at this cathedral (the Feast of the Ascension in Siena) would be the main event for the city for that day, whereas today it was seen more as a necessary interruption to the normal routine of having groups of tourists walk around, plastic souvenier bags in hand and dressed in "casual tourist," looking around slack-jawed at all the artwork that surrounds them. However, the organ sounded magnificent and I did get a nice nap during that 25-minute Italian homily. After communion, a small elderly nun in a white habit, the top of whose head could barely be seen above the lectern, made a long appeal of some sort in a shrilly sort of voice. Then we were free to go, and before the priest was even able to leave the altar, 90% of the congregation was out of the pews and milling towards different parts of the church, falling right into their tourist mode.
Back for the 1:30 PM rendezvous in the piazza, I found everyone there. We walked around the streets a bit, looking for a place to eat, and ended up at a very nice walk-in pizzeria (big slice of pizza and Coke; 5 Euro please). Nearby were some steps where most of us sat and had a satisfying lunch. Turns out that it was the steps to a building belonging to the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre. I'm guessing that it must have been there for centuries - or not. But it was kind of cool to run into it, and I looked around for secret signs or patterns or hidden doors, ala Da Vinci Code, but no such luck.
Lunch time copnversation brought up the idea of going to Assisi today also. Pretty soon it was a full-fledged plan, since most folks had seen the major parts of Siena by now. So we agreed to leave in about a half-hour, and a couple of us went to at least see the sites associated with St. Catherine of Siena. A short walk brought us to her birth place and another short walk brought up to the large church where we saw her finger-under-glass and her head-in-the-middle-of-lots-of-bric-a-brac. She was purported to be quite beautiful, but you couldn't tell that from what you saw of her head. I guess that a couple of centuries of exposure can do that.
Back to the car, off we went to Assisi, knowing only the general direction and using the little map that was part of Ambrose's guidebook. But the way was fairly straightforward and I only missed three exits and turned the car around five or six times for various reasons. Once in lower Assisi, we visited the Portiuncula, located inside of a huge church, (filled with people meditating - here where Francis had often prayed),
and then went down to the crypt of Francis. That was an impressive place - simple but dignified, carrying a very peaceful atmosphere, with people praying or quietly walking by. It looks as if the monks opened up one side of the cement crypt into which Francis was buried, and it's that open crypt area that you see above the small altar located below it on the floor, with the exposed side walls of the crypt going up to the roof and the upper church. I made an offering for a Mass to be said there, prayed for a while (and surreptiously took a couple of non-flash photos; lots of "no cameras or videos" signs in the upper church, but I didn't see them here, although I wasn't taking any chances of being slugged by the nearest Franciscan - and they were wandering around everywhere), and just thought about the fact of being this close to the actual earthly remains of Saint Francis of Assisi. Then the German and the Rumanian and the Dutch and the French bus groups came through, and it was time to move on.
The groups split up to explore different parts of the place, agreeing to meet back at 7 PM for dinner (it was now 5:45 PM). I pressed Roch into joining me for a walk around the town, and I took several side streets, always going up through alleys with steps. We finally rounded a corner and ended up on a nice brick overlook with a great view of the cathedral and the valley. There were a bunch of local Italian ladies, all elderly, arguing up a storm, with at least four of them talking at once at any one time. They sort of simmered down when we arrived but were soon back at it. After taking a few pictures, Roch asked one of them to recommend a local restaurant - not a touristy kind of place (although that's probably impossible). She was very nice, insisting on walking us to a restaurant about 200 yards away (over lots of steps and through small alleys - those ladies have got to have calves like the elderly Italian ladies I've seen walking up the steep sidewalks in San Francisco), which was probably her son's or at least a cousin's. It was quite reasonable and very nice so we booked it for later. Then we wandered through the streets for a good 45 minutes. I must say that there are some very impressive "tourist" places there; high quality goods for visitors and others interested in church goods. There are, of course, the inexpensive places. But this is the first time that I've seen this many shops that carry quality merchandise.
We met up with our group in front of a now-empty church plaza and then made our way to the restaurant for a fine, Italian meal. Soon after starting, a group of six other men came in and sat at the table next to ours. They were clearly mostly American. After a short while, one of them introduced himself to us. They were Conventual Franciscans, here for their General Chapter with 120 of their compatriots, and were just starting their process. They'd already elected their Superior General, who was there with them, and would be around until June 25th or thereabouts. It must be General Chapter season.
Ending dinner, we wandered down the streets towards our parking place, pausing at the cathedral's plaza to appreciate the really fine weather, ambience, and views. A Franciscan wandered by in his habit and, upon starting a conversation, we found out that he was the provincial for the California province who was there for the Chapter. Soon, looking around, we saw lots of Franciscan monks in their habits walking in the dying light of the day in groups of two or three. Without the tourists with their cameras, or the kids playing with their Assisi toys, or the bus groups herded from place to place, this was the time I found most captivating. At some future time, I'd like to come back for an overnight stay in order to be able to enjoy similar experience a bit longer. But we had to hit the road in order to get back before dawn.
Off we went in the Pullman. Leaving around 9 or 9:30 PM, we made it back to the Motherhouse by 11:45 PM. Traffic was blocked for a while at a construction site on the way, but generally the traffic was fairly smooth. I was kept wide awake by the regular crazy drivers swaying all over the road or surprising me with a car maneuver that I had thought was illegal, if not downright dangerous. The only bad turn we made was once we reached Rome and we turned onto Via Aurelia going in the wrong direction - for about 10 kilometers before realizing the mistake.
So we had lunch in Siena and dinner in Assisi, with a great amount of travel and wandering about in between. A full day, I would say, and one that I will appreciate for some time to come.
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More pictures of the day may be seen at
http://picasaweb.google.com/gvangrie/ItalyMay20