Tuscany Road Journal: Part Three - a Tour of San Gimignano
07:00 Sunday 16TH AUGUST
“So, today we are going to San Gim-ig-narno?”
“No. San.”
“San.”
“Jim”
“Jim”
“in-yano”
“in-yano”
“San Gimignano”
“Bene.”
God, I wish I could speak Italian. I find it rude and embarrassing that I can only say, ‘Grazie, sì, bene and ciao’. I have promised Gabriele that next year I will come back semi-fluent. (I have downloaded Duolingo, and I am still learning how to say ‘The boy eats the apple’.)
I can’t speak a word of Italian and Gabriele doesn’t know much English, but we both speak Cycling. We are two strangers from different worlds, but the universal language of cycling instantly connects us.
Today, Gabriele is taking me on a ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ of San Gimignano; to unlock the secret gems of the medieval commune. (If you like wine, gelato, porcupines and cycling, keep reading).
Gabriele pointed at the horizon:
“San Gimignano, over there.”
I could see tiny towers in the distance.
“It looks like a Disney castle.”
“Yes, Disneyland in the natural.”
We were riding ‘piano, piano’, nice and steady to save my legs for Strade Bianche later in the week. The fresh morning air emptied my overactive mind and helped me gain a zen-like balance.
This was one of the most memorable days I have ever had on a bike. I had no idea where I was going or any of the surprises to come. After spending a few days constantly tackling problems, it was nice to handover control to Gabriele.
We climbed through the walled streets and into the fairytale castle. Gabriele pointed at the market square, the towers and the Duomo di San Gimignano, and the 12th-century Collegiate Church which encases the Santa Fina Chapel and her remains.
Saint Fina (1238–1253), was a Christian who developed a paralytic illness and spent the rest of her life on a bed made from a wooden pallet, where Saint Gregory the Great allegedly appeared to her to predict her death. Miraculous healings were later attributed to her remains.
We took a moment to pay our respects.
We rolled over to the square, Gabriele pointed at a small, unassuming gelateria, Dondoli.
On first appearances, you’d have no idea that this small shop was home to the best gelato in the world.
“Gareth, take your girl here. You try Crema Di Santa Fina.”
Sergio Dondoli is a multiple Gelato World Champion. His shop walls are covered in awards and photographs of celebrities who have visited his iconic gelateria.
I have named this photograph ‘Devil in Disguise’. A careful composition of the ironic ring-light-reflection. 😇
Into the Countryside
We left ‘Disneyland in the natural’ and headed to the countryside for our next stop, Cesani, a winery hidden off the beaten track.
“Gareth, you take your girl here to buy wine.”
“Why don’t we buy some now? ”
There is no time like the present. I gestured to Gabriele that I would put a bottle in my back pocket. He thought I was mad. “Okay.” - he said, and we headed to the reception. It was a Sunday morning, I don’t think they were expecting visitors, but the universal language of cycling opened the door for us.
The boss, Vincenzo Cesani, let his legs do all the talking.
Becky is fond of a glass of red, so I asked for their recommendation and threw it in my back pocket.
“You real Italian. ”
No, sadly not… I’m teetotal. When I declined Vincenzo’s invitation to taste their wares, I thought I would be slapped in the face. However, I misused the phrase “pane e acqua.” (bread and water - a pro cyclist who doesn’t dope), and he nodded with respect. Phew.
Despite Gabriele’s objections, I insisted that I would gift him a bottle; to say thank you for his kindness, hospitality, and taking me on these adventures.
There was plenty of room to fit both bottles in my pockets, but Gabriele wouldn’t have it. He insisted that he would carry his bottle. Gabriele’s pockets were too short to fit a bottle of wine (safely), so he taped it to his top tube.
I had some concerns, the idea of a heavy glass bottle bouncing on top of carbon fibre terrified me. I tried to stop him and take the wine in my pocket, but Gabriele would not allow it.
We waved goodbye to Vincenzo and his daughter, weighed down with our precious cargo.
As the winery is off the beaten track, the road surface wasn’t great. We began descending over some broken-up tarmac.
“Attenzione!”
Gabriele stopped halfway down the descent, pulled into the side of the road and turned around. He pointed to a pile of black shards on the road.
I took one look at the shards and thought “Fuck.” Gabriele’s top tube has been shattered by the bouncing weight of the bottle. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let him carry it like this. I should have pressed him harder to allow me to ferry it home in my deep pockets.
I was racked with guilt, I tried to apologise, but there was some confusion.
He pointed at the shards again, then to the roadside at a dead porcupine. It had been hit by a car; its spines were splayed all over the road - not shards of Gabriele’s top tube. Phew.
Porcupine spines are used as quills by artists in Tuscany. Gabriele put one in his pocket to take home and gestured for me to do the same. Perhaps they bring good luck?
The road home was flat. Gabriele sat on the front and rode like Paris-Roubaix champion, Franco Ballerini. Lot’s of other riders jumped on the back of us to take advantage of Gabriele, the powerhouse.
We arrived back home, wine and top tube in tact.
Becky was pleasantly surprised with her gift and the story behind it. I think she was glad today’s ‘ride debrief’ wasn’t just me droning on about my training, how good my bike is, or how hungry I am. Today, I actually had a story worth sharing.
I showered, ate breakfast, threw some clothes on and drove Becky straight to San Gimignano, so she could experience “Disneyland in the natural.”
More importantly, I couldn’t wait to try a scoop of Dondoli’s speciality gelato, ‘Crema di Santa Fina’ (named after the towns patron saint) - cream flavoured with bourbon vanilla pods, San Gimignano saffron pistils and Pisa pine nuts.
The verdict? It’s worth booking a holiday to Tuscany just to visit Gelateria Dondoli. Enough said.
After a long walk in mutual awe and admiration for the beauty and history of San Gimignano, we headed back to our cottage.
There was a knock on the door. Could this be my seatpin wedge arriving in the post? Can I finally ditch this hire bike and ride my Factor O2 VAM?
I have written enough for one day. Stay tuned for part four of my Tuscany Road Journal.
Gareth.
