Saturday, September 7th | 2024 | Day 10
Members of the tour group began filtering into the lobby of PopArtment around seven-thirty for house coffee ahead of departure at eight. We loaded onto the Eurovan for the hour and a half drive to Cortona. The drive allowed for casual conversation amongst relative strangers to share stories, tell jokes, and relay some of our independent discoveries in Florence during days at leisure. These drives were welcome and enjoyable opportunities to get to know one another a bit more.
Winding up the narrow roads and switchbacks towards our destination, Nadia points out visible differences in the walls surrounding the town. Large roughly cut stones on the lower strata date back to the Etruscans, while the darker and more finely hewn layer is medieval. Similar to the ancient Minoans, while much has been discovered about these ancient people, there is far more remaining to be revealed.
Tuscany itself is named for the Etruscans. Through the linguistic chain of Toscana in Italian to Tuscia in Latin—which meant “belonging to the Trusci.” As well-known neighbors of the early Romans, there is plenty of evidence to suggest the ingenuity and culture of these ancient people had a profound impact. Many traits we think of as quintessentially Roman—arches and vaults, engineered roads, gladiatorial combat, right down to the toga—likely came by way of the Etruscans.
The van parked just outside the Basilica di Santa Margherita at the far east end of Cortona. After taking a few shots of sweeping views to the Val di Chiana below, our guide arrives to get the official tour underway. Sebastian is quite knowledgeable and hilarious, keeping the group entertained by cracking jokes and pointing out idiosyncrasies of culture and religion.
Inside, the thirteenth-century church revealed an interior far more ornate than its modest exterior suggested. While the tour didn’t linger long, several objects stood out. A figure of the resurrected Jesus, with wounds of his crucifixion, looks down at the viewer, his eyes filled with compassion and a hint of sadness. Not for his own fate, but for those who turn away from each other and his message of everlasting love. The figure of St. Francis, who is the first to have received stigmata, also bears the wounds of Jesus while staring in deep contemplation at the crucifix he is holding.
In one of the niches, a statue of Santa Margherita with her hands outstretched and gaze turned towards heaven, is wonderfully expressive. After being damaged during a siege by Arezzo in 1258, Margherita was instrumental in rebuilding the oratory dedicated to San Basilico that originally stood here. She dedicated her life to prayer and eventually joined the Third Order of Saint Francis. In service to the poor, homeless, and sick, she built a hospital and established Le poverelle—Franciscan sisters committed to helping those in need.
Margherita passed from the world in 1297, before the oratory was expanded into the basilica named in her honor. Beneath the high altar, her remains lay at peace, entombed in a silver casket.
A few minutes after reboarding the van, we were dropped off near Porta Sant’ Agostino. One of the remaining ancient gates, it’s fascinating to imagine the processions of citizens, merchants, revelers, and soldiers passing through them over the ages. With no vehicular traffic as we proceed towards the main square, the streets feel rather serene, with a calm, quiet charm. People moving about their daily lives. Sun dried laundry hangs from clotheslines and balconies. Cortona was one of the places Eleanora mentioned as being truly Italian—I am beginning to understand why.
Gathering onto Piazza Centro, Sebastian tells us a bit about the town’s history before leading us onward to the Museo dell’ Accademia Etrusca. Absolutely worth a visit, the museum isn’t exactly small but won’t eat up an entire afternoon either. It’s in the Goldilocks zone—not huge and overwhelming, not so small one wonders why they came—but just right.
From the ticketing counter a ramp led to cases displaying early artifacts—flint arrowheads, stone and copper axes, as well as a sword—dating back to the Neolithic and Bronze Ages. If you think chopping down a tree with hardened steel hand tools is challenging, try felling one with a rock.
Fired clay in orange and black. A copper pot separated from its handle. Both with characteristic green patina after centuries of oxidation. Artifacts that offered a glimpse into the progression of humanity through the slow march of time.
I marveled at the next case full of jewelry. Designs so intricate it was hard to fathom the level of skill it took to create given the tools available at the time. A string of stamped gold and smooth glass beads separated by rings of golden balls less than two millimeters in diameter was absolutely captivating.
On another strand, the gold beads are fluted and tubular. Hanging from each tube, semi-precious stones are set with delicate golden fingers lovingly wrapped around them. Surely finery this exquisite adorned a person of high social standing. Can you imagine the moment a king surprised his queen with such a gift and placed it gracefully around her neck?
The collection of black and red figure pottery was especially interesting. Black figure originated in Corinth around 700 BCE, with red figure following some 200 years later in Athens. Being found in Etruria suggests extensive trade with the Greeks, learning and adopting their techniques, or perhaps both. Unique to the Etruscans, bucchero is thin-walled with a glossy black finish. Despite being monochromatic, many were stamped with geometric and vegetal designs which I found quite elegant in their relative simplicity.
Vessels of each style came in a variety of shapes and sizes. It’s fascinating to picture them filled with goods, stowed as cargo, and transported between ancient ports before being unloaded to the marketplace. To imagine the scenes in which they were used to serve food, olive oil, and wine in the households of nobility and everyday people alike.
We had some free time to explore and shop on our own before meeting at Piazza Garibaldi for lunch. Ristorante Tonino was nothing less than incredible. We sat on the patio with sweeping views of the town above, Val di Chiana below, and Lago Trasimeno in the distance.
Our meal was a seemingly endless procession of delicious where tradition met the unexpected. Starting with antipasti Tonino and bruschettine della tradizione, the paccheri con crema di pistacchi for primo and pannacotta for dolce stood out like exclamation points. Part of what made this so special was that we were the only ones in the restaurant. Through a personal connection, Nadia had arranged for us to be there at at time they were usually closed between lunch and dinner. Grazie mille a tutti!
After such a wonderful meal, the ride back to Florence is fairly quiet. Sitting silently with our thoughts, gazing out the windows as the Tuscan landscape whisks by, and nodding off.
Back at the ranch, Deb, Chris, and I planned to meet up for dinner in a few hours after resting and freshening up.
The scene at Il Ghiotonne was lively and we were lucky to get a table outside as another group left. After lunch at Tonino, we weren’t super hungry and talked about ordering drinks. Chris wasn’t familiar with the go-to Aperol spritz, but after Deb and I described it, she decided to try one. From the first sip to the third round, the best spritz I had in Florence was at this family run caffe on Piazza San Jacopino. If I had to guess, the secret ingredient was a splash of orange liqueur.
Over light fare, our conversation was as vibrant as our surroundings. At the heart of a community on Saturday night, we talked about family, careers, politics, and what it meant for each of us to be in Florence. The lively discussion was such a pleasure and I enjoyed getting to know Chris and Deb a bit more. Even as a stranger in a strange land, moments like these made it feel like a place where I belonged.
