Siena – Part 3: Searching

I woke up the next day and felt… lonely.

After tasting wonderful local food, trying famous Tuscan wine, and visiting all the most prominent sites, I couldn’t help but feel that something was missing from the experience. I had talked to people—working locals, other visitors, and briefly with a few residents—but those were more polite exchanges than fulfilling conversations. I started to miss actual talk.

I spent most of my day in silence.

I wandered around familiar spots, ate at a different restaurant, and tried yet another wine. The staff was friendly and happily gave me a short lesson on the wine I was enjoying at that moment—probably the best one I had in Siena—Nobile di Montepulciano. I remember the name. It was red, and I liked it. As you can tell from that description, I’m not exactly a sommelier with a refined taste.

My approach to these things is rather simple—whether it’s food, drinks, art, or culture, I try without prior knowledge of what it’s supposed to be and experience it for myself. If I like it, I try more. If not, I move on. I savor new things for future reference. The more I try, the richer I feel.

But no amount of wine, beer, or gallery visits could replace good company. And good company had been missing from my trip thus far.

Before heading back for a quick shower—it was pretty hot that day—I asked around for good pubs in less touristy spots. As luck would have it, one was right on my way back to the hotel. The shower could wait. I wanted to go now, and it was already getting late.

A good fifteen-minute walk from Piazza del Campo, about three to four hundred meters beyond the gates of the inner city, I found a beautiful, cozy place called Charlie Mixology Bar—totally recommend it. A bit further from the historic center, I was the only stray to venture inside. My eyes briefly scanned the group of four sitting at a table in the back before I took an empty seat near the front.

The bartender, a beautiful dark-haired woman, spoke to me.

“What would you like to drink?”

Her Italian accent was probably the thickest I had ever heard, but she wasn’t hard to understand.

I played it safe—gin and tonic, made with local gin and a nice herby tonic. One turned into two, and as I sat there, sipping my drink and soaking in the atmosphere, I felt glances coming my way. I turned toward them, and the next thing I knew, I was drinking and chatting with a group of neighborhood friends.

We had some beers, and after the usual questions—what I was doing here, why I was alone, what I thought of their town—my curiosity took over. I was the one asking questions now. I wanted to know about the city’s history and how people lived there. That’s when I learned about Contradas—seventeen rivaling districts of Siena, each with its distinct name and traditions—and about Palio di Siena, the famous horse race held twice a year, where the winning Contrada earns the city’s pride for the next year. One of my drinking pals was from Contrada della Selva (the Forest).

As beers followed beers, we drifted into deeper conversations, as tends to happen when you drink and talk all night. I learned about his life as a young soldier in the late ’90s. His girlfriend, a sharp-minded Romanian, had finished her studies and, after meeting him, decided to stay in Siena—maybe for good. She came from a small village in Romania and fell in love with the Tuscan countryside. What she said stuck with me:

“When you decide to stay, you stay for the people.”

I loved that line.

With my social battery fully charged, it was time for us to part ways. I felt a little sad, but Friday was approaching—my last real chance to fully enjoy the city. I was due to leave on Sunday.

Fighting my way uphill, aiming for a good night’s sleep, waves of emotions surfaced—partially due to the excessive amount of alcohol, and especially that beer called Ceres. It ended up being a bit of a struggle, but in the end, I curled up in bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

I was at peace—completely unaware that the best day of my trip was just around the corner.

My adventure was soon to end.