Thursday 15 May 2025 – The breakfast restaurant in the hotel, on its first floor, offers a view to jump start anyone’s day
and the breakfast buffet was a good and varied one – and sophisticated, offering, as it did, Twining’s finest Earl Grey tea! (Every hotel we’ve stayed in has had a varied selection of Twining’s tea, but this is the first one which had Earl Grey, which, clearly, makes the hotel a class act.)
Breakfast over, we started out on our walk, which was going to be about the same distance as yesterday’s but not as arduous; it was also described as “one of the most delightful routes” in the S-cape app. The destination was a place whose name was quite a mouthful – Colle di Val d’Elsa, but about which we knew nothing except that our accommodation, a B&B, was in a non-rural area somewhat short of what looked like the town centre on Google Maps. This just goes to show how wrong can be the impression you gain of a place through consulting Google Maps.
Immediately outside our hotel, the Cisterna Square (which is actually triangular) was taken over by an incipient market.
We thought the weather was nice – pleasantly cool – but the lady here was clearly freezing to death and was swaddled in fleece and jeans.
San Gimignano continued to be picturesque as we made our way out
but we passed some curiosities. There was a shop selling guns and knives, obviously for hunters, and this market extended to the tobacconist as well.
We had found it odd enough that Pisa featured a Torture Museum. Here, there were two, within a few yards of each other. It’s obviously A Thing.
We bade goodbye to San Gimignano old town
and started off through the outskirts, overlooking a view of a somewhat foggy valley.
A roundabout was the scene of a very Italian piece of parking.
Other views were more of the attractive churches and buildings on the outskirts,
with a great view back towards San Gimignano.
Yes, there were cranes in the skyline and cables in the foreground, but the astonishingly capable editor on my Samsung phone soon dealt with those little problems.
We soon exchanged the road for a track leading upwards
past, as ever, some lovely views.
I was particularly taken with the tufty nature of this olive plantation.
The track changed from dirt road to woodland track
and led down to a ford
which we navigated satisfactorily, if a little unsteadily.
After the ford, the track went up (of course!)
and I began to wonder whether my decision to pack away my walking poles had been a good one. However, the uphill work, here and for the rest of the walk, was largely in the shade and I found I didn’t really need the sticks.
There were lots of butterflies around and one obligingly stopped for its closeup.
It may be only a Common Blue, but it’s an attractive colour. From a photographic point of view, I’ve no doubt that I got a better image with the Sony camera I’ve been toting around with me than I would have got with my phone, talented though it is.
Several times since we’ve started this walk, we’ve seen the ground carpeted in small clumps of fluff, and we wondered what had given rise to them. On this walk, we found the answer:
Black Poplar trees spreading their seeds.
Having gone up, we came down again, to another ford, this one very easily negotiable.
The stream had formed a little pool of clear water, in which we could see that tadpoles were swimming about.
A little further on, we passed the remnants of an Etruscan tomb
and were, in turn, passed by a group of three very serious hikers, carrying vast backpacks, who we thought might be pilgrims, but actually turned out to be birdwatchers, judging by the photographic equipment they deployed.
Up we went again, and down again, to a third ford. The stream though this one was a bit more substantial
and the stepping stones were not the sort that would be easy to use for three elderly pilgrims, so drastic measures were needed to cross it.
Jane loved to cool water flowing across her feet; me, less so. But Jane had been provident enough to pack a towel, so I could dry my feet before we carried on. We found several philosophical musings (in Italian) posted by the path
The longest one translated thus: “Whoever walks in the woods is looking for a different, inner freedom that makes him master of his own life. Listen to your breathing; you will listen better to your emotions and the beating of your heart. Do not seek distractions: THIS IS YOUR PATH!” I suppose it was a bit counterproductive that we sought a distraction in the shape of a translation….
After a reasonably substantial upward push, we arrived at a “punto panoramico” as indicated on our interactive map.
This was practically the highest point of the walk, hence, I suppose, being able to see several kilometres back to our starting point. Our map also indicated a “punto ristoro” with an icon of a cup. The description said there were no services on this route, so I was intrigued to understand what this meant. At first, it looked like just a resting point in the shade
but closer examination revealed
a coffee machine and a vending machine. My joy on seeing this was complete when I discovered that the coffee machine accepted contactless payment! So we treated ourselves to a rest and a coffee before moving on.
We passed a few more curiosities:
Instructions to dog owners not to let their animals crap on this patch of land
A self-service artisan’s kiosk, with an honesty box for those wanting to buy a decorated shell….
…placed invitingly beside a bench for passers-by to rest on
The previous day, we’d seen olive trees being pruned in what seemed like an odd way, chopping off whole branches and thinning the foliage hugely. We saw more evidence of this here, too.
This is very different from the olive trees we saw being harvested in the Canaries – tall trees with thick foliage, and pickers up long ladders to reach the crop. Jane researched this and it turns out that what we’re seeing here is a pruning pattern more appropriate for the Tuscan climate: more open to let sunshine hit more places and so that humidity doesn’t affect the fruit; and lower, to make the olives easier to pick.
The surroundings became more urbanised, and we eventually came to the edge of Colle di Val d’Elsa (which henceforth I shall simply called “Colle” for convenience and to save typestrokes).
There was a sort of dissonance between faux-ancient on the right and real ancient on the left. It turned out that the ancient bit was the entrance, through a gate, Porta Nova, to the historic old town of Colle, which is very attractive.
This meant that our accommodation, Arnolfo B&B (named after Arnolfo di Cambio, a sculptor, architect, and urban planner of the 13th century who was born in Colle di Val d’Elsa), rather than being stuck out in some random suburb, as I had originally thought, was actually right in among the centro storico of Colle. The walk to it took us past some fantastic views.
The layout of the place is a bit confusing to first-time visitors, and it took us a little while to find our B&B. We blundered around a bit until Caroline pointed that we were actually standing right outside it.
It turned out that we were in luck; it was a couple of minutes past 1pm, when the reception would be closed, but when we rang the bell we were let in and were able to check in, collect our bags and go to our rooms to change for lunch. We asked the chap behind reception about lunch times and he reeled off a whole series of restaurants we could visit. We ended up settling on one called Il Torrione
which was back by Porta Nova, and which had a terrace at the back with fantastic views over the old town.
We just crept in at 2pm as the gate crashed down and were able to persuade them to give us lunch, and a very fine lunch it was, too – A Nice Lunch, in fact.
We blundered about a bit after lunch because we had various imperatives to address: seeing the Duomo; getting our credenziali stamped; and getting some milk so we could make ourselves tea back at the B&B. We started heading towards the Duomo, a route that led us past lovely views of the old town
and a rather engaging statue, “Il bambino che è in noi”, “the child within us”.
The Duomo has an imposing interior
and several imposing chapels around the edge
with some striking detail work.
After seeing the Duomo, Jane went off to get the stamps and I got the mission to buy the milk. This is where the slightly strange layout of the place had a major impact. The old city (which has no grocery shops of any description) is really well above the industrial newer town (which seemed to have plenty, some of which might be open), and so I had to get from one to the other, which involved finding and tottering down a very steep ramp. It also involved blundering around looking for a supermarket which Google Maps swore was here. Yes, here. But it wasn’t. It was there; a couple of hundred yards away on a different street. I was so grateful to find the milk in this vast supermarket
that I failed to take advantage of the possible availability of Twining’s finest Earl Grey to replenish our rapidly-diminishing stock.
And then, of course, I had to walk back up this bloody ramp
Estimated by the protractor app in my phone to be 15° – that’s one in six, or, to be technical, sodding steep
in order to get back to the B&B. Because I got the rough end of this stick, I shall indulge myself by showing you the altitude profile of my afternoon’s wanderings.
Just goes to show what an Englishman will do for a cup of tea.
That pretty much ended things for the day, and we retired to our rooms to prepare for the morrow. We will be walking to Monteriggioni along a route that the S-cape app rhapsodises about. It will be slightly longer but a little easier than today, so I’m hopeful that I will be able to report on another good day once we reach our destination (and hopefully get another Nice Lunch). Check back soon to find out how it all went.
