Ineke Spoorenberg
For years I always went on holiday in the early or late season. But now that I am making this foot trip to Rome, I am suddenly forced to be in a very touristic area during the high season. San Gimignano, Monteriggoni, Siena. They are beautiful old towns that are currently overrun by tourists.
In San Gimignano, I sat on a terrace at the top of the main street for a while and watched a steady stream of tourists pass me by. Dutch, Germans, Scandinavians. Mostly blond people, often with young children, father in long shorts, mother in fluttering summer skirt. All in the same slow pace they moved to the center, sweating, because often already driven from the campsite or the apartment, had to find a parking space, had to walk up the mountain because these places are always on a hilltop, and so on, and so on.
They often settle down on the first terrace to relax for a while. There they are served a drink of five and a half euros each by overworked staff and mother reads an excerpt from the travel guide. Yes, it is hard work, such a cultural holiday and meanwhile you are being beaten from all sides. Don't think that you can just walk into a church, for every little known church there is an entrance fee.
Pottery
There is little to be noticed in these places of ordinary Italian life. Everything is geared towards tourism. Just take the store stock with an excess of pottery that may soon brighten up the tables in Wormerveer and Zwolle.
But even when I wanted to leave San Gimignano at 6 o'clock in the morning, I found a town that was far removed from everyday life. Rather, it looked as if a football championship had been celebrated the night before. Heaps of rubbish piled high on the side of the picturesque streets. The bars were all open, but not to serve me a nice cup of coffee, no, women were everywhere scrubbing the place and in front of the door were often large trucks with new stock for the coming day.
Once outside the walls you will remember why they all come here. The scenery is enchanting, it's like walking into a Tuscan calendar. I quickly shook off my irritation and made my way to Monteriggioni. I had estimated the distance a bit too optimistically and only arrived in the afternoon.
There was another hostel for pilgrims of the Via Francigena. No, please don't, I thought, a good room. You could wring me out, a big blister on my heel, sore shoulders from that backpack. I rented a beautiful room above a restaurant, a room with a mosquito net against mosquitoes, what a luxury! Again, I found throngs of tourists who wandered like sleepwalkers across the town's only square and populated the many terraces.
Dutch people
The advantage of the many Dutch tourists in particular is that I have been able to get a Dutch newspaper again for a few days. Even de Volkskrant is on the shelves! When I offer it, once finished, to a Dutch woman, she reacts as if bitten by a viper. 'No, thank you, we're on vacation and we don't want anything to do with the news. Isn't it Jan?' as she turns to Jan in zip-off pants. 'Oh no, please say, definitely read about that cabinet formation again, not for a while!' I almost feel like I need to apologise. Oh yes, the Dutch can be like that too. I am, I think, a little estranged from them.
Just like this morning on a crowded terrace on the Campo in Siena. A little further on is a young couple. Moments later, I hear him honk loudly into a cell phone, "Hello there, you okay?" A moment of silence, then: 'Great. Well, we have news to report: Susy is pregnant!' Another moment of silence. 'Yes, quickly, I'll give her to you in a moment, she's sitting here next to me on the terrace.' Susy in a trembling voice: 'Ha, Dad. Yes, how do you like it, fast huh, do you like it? I find it a bit scary myself.'
Contrada
Then I and the other Dutch people who are listening with interest are distracted by the approaching drumming. A procession of drummers and flag swingers from Contrada La Torre cross the Campo in medieval costume. Tourists jump out of their seats to take a quick photo.
I know the drumming of the contradas all too well. I once stayed here in the city center for the whole month of August. After a week of drumming from early in the morning until late at night, I had had it a bit. But it remains a beautiful spectacle, especially when you consider that it is an age-old tradition.
And when you sit there, in that beautiful square, the sun shining, you see the drummers in beautiful costumes and hear their stirring rhythm, then there comes a moment when everything falls into place and you know why you have to go through all that inconvenience to come here.
At least, that's how it always goes for me in Italy and I also hope all those people who so bravely leave home with their children to soak up some culture, eat good food and I assume also to visit the beach, because that's where Italy has enough of it too.
To be continued…
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