Sorano to Siena

20 May: Hotel in Santa Fiore

Today dawned bright and clear. Hurrah! The mother – it was a mother and son restaurant – and we were in her house, made us an Italian breakfast – cakes and a couple of pieces of that highly toasted bread that comes in a packet – but she included an orange each, which was nice. It turned out the house was 17th century. She was really solicitous, and kissed me goodbye and wished us bon-voyage when we left. She had to be in her 70s. What energy!

The town looked different in the morning sun, and our spirits lifted as we set off for Castel del Piano. The riding was slow and difficult though; Gail still not anywhere near 100%, me carrying a bit more than usual, and quite a lot of testing climbs, not least the first one out of Sorana's gorge - and a swirling wind which was sometimes in our faces. We stopped for an early lunch by the road and were joined by a friendly and very self-assured little dog, which came with us as we bowed to the inevitable and walked up the next hill. The climbing was more substantial and extended than appeared from the ride description, and topped out at a bit over 800m at Castel A???, then a nice slightly undulating road along the ridge and through the forest, followed by a very pleasant but unfortunately long downhill and another hard climb to here. In between all this we passed through some pretty scenery, and avoided the rain clouds which kept lurking about as the afternoon wore on. We decided at the base of the climb that Castel del Piano was out of the question and we'd stay in Santa Fiore.

This turned out to be a socially complex arrangement. The tourist office was shut, so we asked the fellow who ran the up market wine and food shop about B & B's. This required him to consult with the woman who ran the frippery shop next door, but she was busy with a customer. 20 minutes later, she explained to us that she did not speak English, but that it was very difficult to get a B&B for one night only, and she would take us to the Museum where somebody spoke English. The Museum was a mining museum and the said woman not only spoke English but was English. After she tracked down the only operating B&B to find that it was full, and then rang the hotel which was more than happy to take us (and, we found later, to put the bikes in their garage), Gail asked the obvious question. How did she come to be here speaking fluent Italian. Answer: her parents were Italian and had emigrated separately to En gland after the war. Her father worked in the coal mines till they shut down, they had 4 kids, then retired back to Santa Fiore whence they (or at least, he) came. Then, both parents fell ill and she came (ten years ago) to look after them.

The hotel is OK if impersonal compared to last night and after eating an entree of green beans cooked in the hotel room (by us, not room service) and an alarming moment when it seemed that all the restaurants might be shut, we found somewhere to have some pretty good pasta, then came home to collapse into bed. We are now considering carefully the question of how much Tuscan scenery is enough Tuscan scenery (with a little voice saying, “Enough with the vistas, stop mucking about and go to Florence, you know you want to...”).

21 May Casa Degli Orsi

We began today by stoking up on the hotel buffet breakfast – we were both famished after yesterday. [I had juice, a huge bowl muesli, yoghurt, a large slice of jam tart, a kiwi-fruit and buckets of black tea.]

Of course it was upwards, ever upwards, and although better than yesterday, I was only 80% of normal. So, Phil carried the tent again. The weather stayed sunnier than yesterday, with only a little black cloud hovering around, reminding us not to take the sunshine – or for that matter, our health and strength - for granted.

We quickly reconsidered this question of Tuscan vistas though, because in short, the scenery was fantastic and we quickly fell under its spell. First, it is so green, in every shade of green, and so luxuriant – from the roadside trees and patchwork and forested panoramas, to the roadsides and meadows full of buttercups, little starry white flowers, reddy-pink spires, scarlet poppies and dense clusters of a little brilliant yellow creeper. Then, the houses and hill-top villages are aesthetically so pleasing to the eye, that you look and look, and still cannot look enough.

It was 2.30pm before we were hungry enough to eat (breakfast was at 9am), and then we spread the sarong picnic rug at the side of the road and gazed at the view before us while we had a lovely lunch of lettuce and tomatoes (dressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar), little wrinkly black olives, fresh ricotta cheese and borlotti beans, followed by fruit and chocolate.

Then it was onwards again, and by dint of not too much walking and pushing we made our way to Casa Degli Orsi, which is half again as much as we usually pay for a B&B, but the cycling Lonely Planet made it sound irresistible. The Orsi family produced a cardinal – and got its crest- in 1750, and, apart from the lovely B&B rooms and terrace with wonderful view, there is a pretty little garden which contains a family of turtles. The two 3 year olds and the 5 year old live in a large ceramic plant-pot. All three fit on one of my hands. There are also 3 bigger ones (handsize) but our host Domenico has no idea how old they are.

He is a lovely man. He suggested routes for tomorrow, and a restaurant for dinner (so much for being 'over' eating out), but he's especially lovely because he described me to his wife on the phone as “a bella signora” and was quite embarrassed when I said “grazie molto!” and he realized I'd understood part of what he thought was a private conversation.

After a wonderful hot shower we made friends with the turtles. They were a bit reserved at first, but then they came out of their shells.(That was a 'Philism' of course.) Dinner was lovely: a soup, a small dish of hand-made pasta, then delicious chick-peas with rosemary and delicious spinach. Lots of butter and garlic seemed to be involved. This town is famous for it's Brunello (red) wine. You can buy it by the glass, so Phil had one, and drank it Very Slowly.

We think that if I'm not 100% tomorrow we'll ride a short way and catch a train to Siena. If I'm back to normal, we'll do some more up and downing to Montelpulciano, another speccy hill-town (also famous for its wine) with more speccy Toscana scenery on the way.

22 May Siena Campground

Mr GPS was in disgrace this morning. (I thought I was better and we decided to go to Montelpulciano.) The sealed road out of town offered a scintillating descent, but our GPS, with his programmed predilection for small quiet roads, thought he could do better than that. Therefore we found ourselves on a winding gravel track with a gradient of 15%. Since I am still nursing a sore knee (thick, numb and painful to bend) from the fall a few weeks ago, walking seemed the more sensible option. Then the road was barricaded off on either side of a small land-slip. So we had to take all the panniers off, lift the bikes over, and put them all back on again. Ah well, the views were sublime.

The road took us to Buonconvento, from where there's a train to Siena. It was already nearly 1pm – Domenico had had breakfast with us, we'd met his stylish and friendly wife, been taken for an inspection of the ancient cellar in his gorgeous house and so had left very late. We regretfully decided to skip Montelpulciano and go on to Siena.

One of the routes to Siena that Domenico had shown us seemed to be full of low rises and long downhills, so I decided I was up to riding to Siena. However, the road we took was full of hot UP hills – the first one was 15% up - we finished back at nearly the same height as Montalcino - and by the time we limped into Siena campground at just after 8pm we were completely exhausted. Also, apart from the last couple of kilometres in, the scenery was not very exciting.

We summoned the concentration to put up our tent, washed our faces and went to the on-site restaurant for pretty delicious pizzas and umm tiramisu. It was too late, and we were too tired, to even consider cooking.

23 May Siena Campground

Rest day today – did washing, stayed around campground, chatted to Englishman cycling to Papua New Guinea(!). Why? Well, he was cycling to Borneo anyway and a friend who lived in PNG said he may as well go a bit further.

Cooked our own dinner, just remembering how.