Strolling round Siena

We were fortunate with the weather in Siena. At first it was warm enough to sit outside having a drink, a treat in early December, but then the temperature fell rapidly and freezing northerly winds buffeted the ancient edifices in this most compact and beautiful of Tuscan hill towns. The cold did not affect the passeggiata, the ritual evening perambulation, in which everyone takes part in order to see and be seen. In fact, there now seems to be no particular hour sacred to it – it takes place all day long and into the night, or did when we were in Siena, with different generations gossiping and strolling at different times of day. The only concession to the weather was the appearance of warm wraps (plenty of fur to be seen) and flannel overcoats for the pet dogs. (With so many dogs around, how are the streets in the centre kept so clean? What an example for tatty old London.)

The days were from then on cold but bright, with glorious blue skies and nights brilliant with stars and a waxing moon. From our hotel at the bottom of the town near the railway station, we ascended to the top of the town by a perfectly placed series of no fewer than five subterranean escalators, and emerged at the corner of the Piazza San Francesco. A basilica dedicated to St Francis dominates the square, its lofty brick fa’ade giving no indication of the distinctive grey-green horizontally striped walls within. (Painted, perhaps, in emulation of the gloriously striped marble of the Cathedral and Campa-nile?) The vast structure is echoingly empty apart from an elaborate crib and some superb frescoes by the Lorenzetti brothers, Ambrogio and Pietro. In the side chapels we gazed in wonder at various scenes from the Franciscan narrative cycle ‘ martyrdom and conversion being the twin polarities of the day ‘ and at Pietro’s extraordinary Crucifixion, painted on a shocking blood-red ground.