Arezzo. To be honest, I had never heard of it before. It is in Tuscany, and it seemed just the right city to aim for on the way to Assisi. More accessible than kind of metropole Florence and not as far away as Perugia.
What a great choice it was. After arriving in the early evening Julie and I walked into town and were delighted. It is an ancient city that looks ancient, and lively as well. On this friday night we heard some drums playing in the distance. We went to have a look and the local music corps held a serenade for one or another occasion. There were thirty people with drums and trumpets and hardly more people watching. It didn’t matter. They drummed their drums with vigour and blew their trumpets as if their life depended on it. They had to be enthusiastic, otherwise they would freeze, that’s what I did standing there. Alle Menschen werden Bruder by Beethoven and the Triumph March, Verdi I suppose. And some more. And then they were done and disappeared into the night.
Their performance was right in front of the St. Francis church in Arezzo, one of the about 68 churches in the City centre, which is not much larger than the distance between Waitrose in east Grinstead and the cimema there.
Quite remarkable all those churches. OK, not 68, but a lot. It seems to be like Rome, every other building is a church. We peeked into St. Francis, but were not allowed to wander around. It was only open for a private country. Saw a glimpse of Jesus on the Cross with a torso that Mohammed Ali would have been proud of in his Cassius Clay days.
Had dinner in the Buca di San Francesco, an eighty-five year old restaurant, frequented by locals, which is always a good sign.
The owner was a delight, introduced each course with a whirlwind of words and seemed not bothered at all that we didn’t have a clue what he was saying. Well maybe he did. He spent a lot more time at another table where guests actually answered his serenades. Couldn’t follow that either, of course, but it seemed like he wanted one of the very Italian women – lots of talking with hands, head shaking, eyes rolling, very attractive altogether – to try some of the best polenta in the world. Which she flatly refused, but so charming that he seemed to be not offended. Brilliant entertainment alltogether.
Afterwards we wandered further; saw another ten churches from the outside, one actually superbly Romanesq, with lovely sculptures at the outside; walked into a bookstore that was still open even though it was after ten (open till eleven, Arezzo … heaven); admired the great variety of olden wooden doors; laughed at the lovely iron holders for horses (we think);
walked into splendid street after splendid street and wondered how on earth it was possible never to have heard of this city before.
So here we stand now somewhere on a parking lot, not too far away from the city centre. No electricity so it is bloody cold. Tomorrow we will go and see which of the doors of those 68 churches are actually open. And then it is time for Assisi and a week long indulging in the life of St. Frances.
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