Tag Archives: Architecture

Phase transition – to Oslo

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Monday 25 August 2025 – Rather than just bounce in and out of Oslo for the final phase of this trip, we had decided to spend a little time to absorb something of Norway’s capital city, making it Phase II of this trip.  All we had to do was to get there, preferably by 2pm, which was when our Dutch friend Hertz van Rental was expecting us to return his car. After a prompt breakfast, we were on the road before 9am.  We discovered, on checkout, why the hotel was happy for us to pillage the breakfast bar for our packed lunch – they charged us for it! They hadn’t made it clear that this was going to be the case, and it was actually a very modest charge, at least by Norway’s exorbitant standards. So we coughed up and only felt a faint twinge of guilt that we didn’t tell them about the second packed lunch we stole….

The journey down was pretty much the reverse of the one up, minus the rain showers – we drove all the way in bright sunshine.  Jane did manage to get a picture of something we missed on the way up – something atop a distant hill.

We’re not sure what it is, but it was nice to complete the set, as it were.

The milling devotees of these pages will know that Jane and I are fans of Interesting Churches; Iceland was a very fertile hunting ground for these, if you’ll excuse the mixed metaphor. We had passed many churches as we drove around, and Jane had commented that they all seemed to be in the shape of a cross, but with equal spokes, as opposed to the norm in the UK and other parts of a longer nave and shorter cross arm.  Jane whistled up ChatGPT to research the subject and found that the Norwegian churches we saw were higher-capacity replacements for original stave churches, which were deemed to be too small for the congregations. This set us off on a delightful diversion, because neither of us knew what a stave church is.

We learned that a stave church is a medieval wooden Christian church building once common in north-western Europe. The name derives from the building’s structure of post and lintel construction, a type of timber framing where the load-bearing pine posts are called stafr in Old Norse (stav in modern Norwegian). They often contained very intricate and detailed carvings. The replacement of stave churches by more modern ones has meant that there are only some 28 of them left in Norway, mainly built between 1150 and 1350, and that is only because in 2001, the National Heritage Board determined that they should be preserved for posterity.  Delightfully, one of these was just off our route, at Ringebu, so we diverted to take a look. And what a pleasure that was – it’s a delightful building. There were coaches in the car park and quite a few people there, so it’s clearly a popular site.

Jane had read en route that this church was only open during the summer, and we had missed that window by just a few days, so we resigned ourselves to just examining the outside, since this had joined the series of churches we’d visited that were closed.

The timber is preserved with tar, and it is educational to look at the shady side of the building,

where the tar has not been weathered so much by the sun. Like the Lesja church, this one had a side exhibit of old gravestones, crosses and other fragments.

However, on getting three-quarters of the way round, we found, to our delight, that the church was open!  The chap on the door explained that this was because there were several groups visiting (hence the coaches), and so we were very lucky to be able to piggyback on this to get a look inside.

It’s as striking inside as out.

Many parts of it go back to its origin, in the year 1120, such as the carvings around the door.

The inside is delightful.

There are, as expected, some very detailed and intricate carvings inside.

Altogether, it was a delightful diversion, made all the more so by the unexpected pleasure of being able to see the inside.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, and we handed back the rental car and found our way to the train station in the airport to head into Oslo.  The airport is a long way outside the centre – 50km – so train or bus are the only sensible options to get from one to the other. The bus journey takes an hour, so we decided to take the train. There’s a specialist train, the Flytog, but that’s twice the price of a standard train and no quicker, and we just managed to bundle ourselves into a VY train bound for Oslo as the doors slammed behind us. We were so rushed that we panicked a bit that we’d leapt on board the wrong train, but a nice elderly gentleman reassured us and engaged us in pleasant conversation until the guard came and told us to shut up because we were in a Quiet Zone.

We’re staying at the Hotel Bristol, which is something of an old-school hotel, occupying a large building, which makes the walk from the lift to your room something of a voyage of discovery. But it’s comfortable enough and furnished us with a nice lunch in elegant surroundings

(Jane had her favourite Toast Skagen) and an insight into Norwegian angst about alcohol.  At Trolltun, we’d tried and largely failed to get double-measure gin and tonics, as the staff there said they didn’t offer doubles. We tried again in the lounge here, and the nice lady who was serving us told us that it was actually against the law to serve double measures! Not only that but it was also against the law to try to game the system by ordering a G&T with an accompanying gin. You were allowed the one drink and could have another once you’d finished that.

This is very much in line with the general Scandinavian attitude to alcohol, which I think has its roots in Lutheran disapproval of anything that is actually enjoyable. I first came across it when I lived in Sweden, 40 years ago.  You could only get alcohol stronger than 2.5% by going to government-run off-licences, called System Bolaget, which was the only company I ever came across which ran adverts intended to dissuade you from buying their products. Things are a bit more relaxed now, but you can still only get spirits from System Bolaget to this day. On my first visit to Oslo – a business trip of just a couple of days – I inadvertently tried to order a post-prandial snifter of brandy, only to be told that they couldn’t sell me spirits because it was a Sunday, and I had to make do with port.

Anyhoo….having enjoyed our late lunch, we thought we’d go for a walk. Obviously.  So we pottered around trying to get a feel for the place.  I have to say that it didn’t call out to us. Perhaps we’ve been off the beaten track too much, but the noise and the crowds and the e-scooters all seemed a bit oppressive, somehow.  Still, we saw a few of the sights: there are some handsome old buildings among the modern stuff;

a striking cathedral with a lovely semi-circular cloister area behind it;

lots of modern stuff;

an Opera House which  is very proud of the fact that you can walk on its sloping roof;

plenty of museums, again well loaded with Architecture;

public saunas;

bits of sculpture in odd places;

“She Lies”, a public sculpture by Monica Bonvicini, which is supposed to be an iceberg, but which we thought was a listing ship

a remarkable town hall building;

and a sodding great fortress, which contains all sorts of buildings within its walls.

We have a full day here tomorrow, and the weather forecast is as sunny as today was, so maybe we’ll get a chance to get better under the skin of the place. Part of the day will be spent having a Nice Lunch with an old a long-standing friend but there are still some things we would like to see. So we are looking forward to an active day’s touristing, and you will be able to read all about it in these pages if you come back soon.

 

Day 14 – Bolsena to Montefiascone – dreaded but actually delightful

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Tuesday 27 May 2025 – Having seen the elevation profile of today’s walk, I had been expecting a day of unremitting toil and had prepared myself accordingly, which means starting off with walking sticks in hand, ready to help me up all those hills.  Le Vigne was reasonably well up the first one, and we started off uphill but not too steeply, and bade farewell to Bolsena.

I noticed that there was a ferris wheel by the lakeside – just visible in the upper right of the picture above. Soon, we were on a woodland track

and largely in the shade, which was very pleasant; not that the day was hot per se, but it’s always nicer to be out of direct sunshine. We could look back at Bolsena and see that ferris wheel clearly now,

and the views over the lake in the morning light were lovely.

We passed a variety of different scenes as we went along.

A cluster of beehives

Nearly big enough to be called a ford

A longish section led through woodland on a clearly prepared trail, intended for use by mountain bikes as well as walkers,

until we left the Bolsena commune and entered that of Montefiascone,

which, an info board informed us, was the highest point on the Via Francigena. Despite this stark warning of uphill labour to come, the pleasant woodland trail continued

occasionally giving us lovely views over the surrounding countryside

until we came to a point where we could see the town of Montefiascone itself,

indisputably much higher than we were at the time. The trail turned into a strada bianca, but at least it offered occasional shade

and, somewhat after the halfway point, there being no formal coffee stop on the route, we found an informal shaded resting place to share some fruit.

As we neared the town, we passed several very posh-looking residences

many of which showed no more sign of occupancy than maybe a car being parked outside, and we wondered what the various stories were about these houses. Were they second homes? Farmers’ houses? Holiday lets?

We broke out from the woodland into the open for the final part of the walk, and were rewarded with more views

before the final pull up into the town.  Montefiascone is the Sarría of the Via Francigena – the point that’s 100km from the eventual destination and walking from which will earn you a certificate at the end, in this case in the Vatican at Rome. There’s even a formal mark,

outside a church, the Chiesa del Corpus Domini, which is a very substantial building

with some nice terracotta work on the front

and a lovely calm interior.

A side chapel

Embroidery above the chapel

The only tedious bit of the day came next, a longish pull up some steep streets to reach the town

Montefiascone is apparently world-famous for Est! Est!! Est!!! wine

and further tediously up towards the old city, past a rather unused-looking fairground setup (maybe for future use or from a past feast day?)

and another very chunky piece of religious masonry (more on this tomorrow).

We made it (via a side trip to get milk at a Coop) into the old city,

where the upness continued to sap my sense of humour as we toiled up this street.

Really, this last section was the only tedious and laborious part of what otherwise has probably been the most enjoyable walk of the Via so far.

The 100km USP of the place seems to drive a certain pilgrim-friendliness.

Our hotel was the Urbano V, where we arrived just before 2pm. Our room was available so we were able to take our bags up (in the lift! hurrah!!) before wandering out to find some lunch.  The receptionist thought that perhaps a restaurant called Dante would be open, and so it was. It describes itself as having Cuisina Tipica and we had a decent enough meal. It has a rather informal air about it, and they don’t seem to expect much in the way of passing tourist trade, with little concession made to those who can’t speak Italian; but the service was affable, and the food both good and copious.

After lunch, we needed to go for a walk. Obviously. We headed back to the hotel to make ourselves (relatively) respectable so that we could enter any passing churches, and set out to see the sights.

It’s a funny old place, Montefiascone. It has buckets of historic significance and charm, but it could really do with a good wash and brush up to show itself off well, like Bolsena does.

There are some really scruffy corners, which is sad to see, as it seems to tell of a city that is not inhabited by that many people.

We passed the orthodox parochial church and looked in.

Montefiascone, it is clear, has a great historical significance, having once been a Papal possession in the 12th and 13th centuries. The castle that sits above the town

was often the residence of popes and is named Rocca dei Pappi, and the city was a significant gathering point for pilgrims on the way to Rome. There is a pilgrim’s tower

from which, apparently, you get a 360° view of the surrounding countryside (there is no lift, and I wasn’t in the mood for steps up, which just goes to show what a poor pilgrim I really am). There is an enormous basilica, the cathedral of Santa Margherita, which has one of the largest domes in Europe.

The cathedral was built substantially in the 15th and 16th centuries. In 1670 it suffered a serious fire, with repairs taking a further decade. The interior was elaborately restored in 1893, and is

jaw-dropping.

On the way back from this wandering, we had a delightful Camino-style occasion. Outside the Caffè Centrale, on the piazza near our hotel, was sitting one of the two ladies we’d been able to help on the road to Acquapendente. We got into conversation, which led inevitably to gin and tonic. She is another Jane, who is also walking to Rome with her friend Yvette. Yvette was sadly absent, recovering from a bout of something dreadful, but it was really pleasant to talk to Jane. The occasion developed even further when another couple we’d been talking to at intervals over our journey, Susan and Andy, happened by, which led, equally inevitably, to more gin and tonics. This sort of encounter is relatively commonplace on the Camino de Santiago, when pilgrims in their thousands throng the route; we were delighted that we had encountered similar serendipity on this much less-travelled route.  It won’t happen again, as the others all depart tomorrow whilst we have a rest day; but it’s a pleasing memory to take away with us.

During the preceding wanderings around the city, we saw a few more things to explore further; we have a full day tomorrow to do so, and I will regale you with them in tomorrow’s post. Check in later and see what else the town has to offer, why don’t you?

 

 

 

Intermission (Impossible): Siena

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Monday 19 May 2025 – Warning! Long Post Alert! Really long!!

I have to try to sum up Siena as we’ve seen it for the last couple of days, which is pretty much an impossible task. Actually, for a tourist only here for two days (for that’s what we are, before going back to becoming travellers tomorrow), there are relatively few highlights to hit: the Duomo, of course; the Campo (the main square); some notable churches; and the general scenery. Once you actually visit any of these tick-box items, though, you are deluged with all sorts of astonishing images. I’ve taken literally hundreds of photos, and obviously can’t bore you with all of them. I’ll try to summarise.

Our hotel, the Chiusarelli, is in a decent location, a few minutes walk from the centre of the old city.  I’ve mentioned its eccentricities, which also extend to decor.

Our room, while not particularly large, is comfortable enough. Unlike most hotel rooms we’ve come across so far (and not, I may add, just in Italy), it has a sufficiency of charging points for the various devices we use – camera, phones, activity monitor, backup drive, tablet – and some of these are usb-c, which is outrageously modern and very welcome. The breakfasts

are ample and feature Twining’s finest Earl Grey, so it has been a happy base from which to ramble. We’ve had a guided tour with the somewhat theatrical Serena, and also been for our own walks. Obviously. Here, in no particular order, are some of the things we’ve learned and some of the things we’ve seen.

Siena is built upon three hills. The practical upshot of this for us tourists is that to get anywhere involves toiling up really quite steep slopes. But for the original medieval settlers, it had a more significant problem – lack of water. Being on the top of hills meant that, unlike its dreaded rival Florence, a river didn’t run through it. It took some significant medieval engineering to create a series of underground aqueducts, 25km in length, called bottini. These tapped into underground springs and rainwater run-off, and were Siena’s principal source of water until the 20th century. There’s a fountain in the Campo, the Fonte Gaia, built to express gratitude for the water. It’s not impressive, like the Trevi jobbie in Rome, there are just a couple of she-wolves dribbling water,

but it represents something terrifically important for the locals.

The Campo itself, yesterday, was not the unencumbered place whose photo I shared the other day, oh no. All over the centre of Siena, barricades were being set up

and equipment rolled out

in preparation for the arrival, yesterday afternoon, of the Giro d’Italia, the Italian equivalent of the Tour de France.  As the day progressed, crowds began to build up

and, at around 5pm the circus arrived, unwatched by me, since I was

making myself useful. Jane watched on TV as the cyclists made their way into town and round the Campo to the finish. Apparently it was quite exciting.

The Campo has been used for racing of quite a different sort – horse racing, believe it or not. Twice a year, the outer edge of the Campo is covered in sand and 10 horses are raced for three laps, a process that takes just over a minute. But it’s a terrifically important minute, and the running of these races continues a tradition started, in Siena at least, in 1633 (apparently, this kind of lunacy has been going on in various other places since the middle ages, would you believe). The race, and the parades and other pageantry that precede it, is called “Il Palio“. Is it popular with the locals? You bet! This is a photo I got from a pamphlet on the Palio, showing the Campo as the race is running.

Why is it so important to the locals? This comes down to the way the city is divided into “contrade” – neighbourhoods. There are 17 in total and each horse represents a “neigh”bourhood. Only ten horses run each time; in the next Palio, the seven neighbourhoods which didn’t participate get a place as of right, and the other three places are allocated by lot. Horses are allocated by a draw, and to be the winning jockey is very important for the inter-neighbourhood rivalries.

Each neighbourhood has its own flag on which is represented its animal. The choice of animal is non-intuitive. One might expect lions, or tigers, but what you get is the rhino, the owl, the silkworm, the snail and other unlikely candidates.  Every contrada has its own museum, church, fountain and baptismal font, and if you look carefully, you can see the badges of different contrade on either side of a boundary.

Eagle on the left, Forest (featuring a rhino!) on the right

The flags are sold everywhere for tourists to buy;

one can buy individual flags or one with all of the insignia on it.

If I understand it correctly, the distinction between neighbourhoods extends even to the way the street lamps are mounted, on “braceletti”

though it would appear that there are also special braceletti, too.

Siena was an important city in medieval Europe, and its historic centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which contains several buildings from the 13th and 14th centuries. The city is famous for its cuisine, art, museums, medieval cityscape and, of course, the Palio. According to local legend, Siena was founded by Senius and Aschius, two sons of Remus and thus nephews of Romulus, after whom Rome was named. Supposedly after their father’s murder by Romulus, they fled Rome, taking with them the statue of the she-wolf suckling the infants (Capitoline Wolf), thus appropriating that symbol for the town. You can see it all over the place; for example on the wall of the courtyard inside the Palazzo Pubblico, the town hall – the building with the tall tower (the Mangia Tower) on the Campo.

You can also see the she-wolf represented on the floor of the Duomo, so now that I’ve exhausted you with talk of history and such, let me show you some images from our tour of the cathedral. It took us a little time to work out how to get in, and in fact our guide, Serena, gave us the best info. We bought the inclusive ticket, for €16 apiece, which got us into the four main bits of this vast complex – the cathedral itself, the baptistry, an area called the crypt even though it isn’t one, and the “panorama”. Fixated as I am with aerial shots of places, we started with the panorama, which you can get to via (loads of bloody steps and) a beautiful arch.

This takes you into a courtyard of which one wall overlooks the Duomo from the eastern side.

This courtyard immediately made me think that it was once a church; in fact it was going to be a church, to expand the Duomo to be bigger than that thing the bastard Florentines have. It was never completed as the pillars you can see to left and right wouldn’t have been able to bear the weight of any roof. So now it’s a car park. But it’s a car park overlooked by a very tall wall, which one can climb; entry is via the museum, the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo.  An internal staircase and a couple of very narrow spiral staircases take you up to the lower

and then the upper level, officially called the Facciatone, from which vantage point the view of the Duomo is spectacular.

Because of the narrowness of the spiral staircases, the traffic up and down is closely monitored and carefully controlled; but, amazingly, we were virtually the only people there at the time we climbed it – it was more crowded later. You also get great views over the city and surrounding areas.

Coming down, you’re led through the museum, which has several museumish rooms with examples of embroidery

and paintings an’ that.

As you can tell, I’m not particularly moved by this kind of art. But awaiting me was a room with material in it which I did find engaging.

In the central display cases were books of ancient music – gregorian chants, written out on vellum and gloriously illuminated.

Around the walls were pictures on what appeared to be paper. We asked an attendant, who told us that they were drawings of the pictures made in marble on the floor of the Duomo. Indeed, there was one of the entire floor plan

with each marble picture carefully drawn.

Elsewhere, there were individual pictures of each of the tableaux.

This is a representation of the she-wolf, and it’s surrounded by the representations of other cities – Pisa, Lucca, Viterbo and so on. Remember this for later.

The way out takes you past a gallery of statues with a lovely representation of the rose window from the Duomo

and the exit is via the church of St. Nicholas,

which is also the gift shop – with possibly the ritziest gift shop ceiling on the planet.

Ritzy ceilings are a key feature in the baptistry, which is back through that arch and down a whole load of steps. Going inside made me catch my breath.

There are all sorts of beautiful details, but the fresco-painted ceilings are, for me, the most amazing aspect.

 

You’ll be unsurprised to learn that I have many more photos, but I hope these give you the basic idea. The bottom right-hand photo there is painted on the inside of a dome. Hold that thought….

Before going into the Duomo itself, we visited something inaccurately called the Crypt.  It’s not a crypt, it has no corpses in it. It was once a church, or perhaps the entry into the cathedral of the time, or maybe a meeting place – whatever, it was built on a level below the current Duomo, which was simply piled on top of it. No-one knew about this earlier space until in 1999 during renovations, workmen accidentally broke through a wall and found something painted blue. Careful research revealed this room, dating from the 1200s, whose walls were completely covered in frescoes which have been preserved by it being filled with debris in the 1300s, buried and forgotten. The interior was excavated – carefully, because of the not inconsierable bulk of the Duomo above, which necessitated special reinforcing to be put in place. And the result is a phenomenal display of frescoes telling biblical and Christian stories.

You can see the steel frame used to support the Duomo above,

and, on one wall,

lo! the outside of the dome of the baptistry. This has to be one of the most atmospheric places we have ever visited.

The final piece was, of course, a visit inside the Duomo itself.

This is the rose window reproduced in the statue gallery in the museum

 

As I said earlier, the floor is covered in tableaux made in marble. They are marblous!

and, of course, there’s the she-wolf.

There was nothing for it after all of this visual overload but to go for a Nice Lunch.  Heading back to the hotel afterwards for a Nice Lie-Down, we managed to do a key piece of shopping

which should stand us in good stead for the remainder of our walking.

Which restarts tomorrow.  We have some 21km to walk to Lucignano d’Arbia. We’ve had a fabulous time in Siena, and it’s been wonderful having the chance to draw breath and do the laundry – these things are important, y’know – but it will equally be nice to get underway again as we head to Rome. I hope you’ll accompany us through the medium of these pages.