10/14 and on the third day…

Oct 14

Ahh Cortona…

Everyone seems to be getting the hang of sleeping in a little. La dolce vita is taking hold. We finish breakfast around 9… something. Well, they finish breakfast, I finish my third espresso. Happiness in a cup.

13323659_1021910701210190_1083341706389261783_o

D and Lynn start off with a little shopping. Nothing extravagant, just the shops and boutiques on Via Nazzionale.

Then the fun stuff. It’s market day in Cortona! Everything you could possibly need or want shows up on these crazy go go gadget unfolding trucks that fill the piazza. You can get your cheese and meat and fruits and vegies, you got your candy and your underwear, you can pick up a new broom and some bed sheets. You can get yourself a dish rack and some new pajamas. Socks? Of course, just a couple of trucks south of the basil and oregano. Everyone should experience market day at least once… We got grapes and apples. Wheee!

Having dropped our produce and shopping prizes in our rooms, we prepare for an ascent of the hill and a visit to say hello to the patron saint of Cortona, Santa Margherita. Her lovely little mummy self rests in a glass box on the alter, dressed in her finery though without shoes for some reason. Cortona is a ‘hill town’. From the front door of our B&B to the steps of the Basilica of Santa Margherita is a climb of 552 vertical feet. The walking distance is 2296 feet. The average incline is about 20 degrees… most of which is not stairs. One must make preparations. Carry water, keep sight of one’s climbing companions, protein supplements, carb loading… it is not a journey for the wimpy.

It is worth it though. The Basilica is one of our favorite churches. Quiet and elegant without being over the top (so to speak). It was set up for a special event so the alter was roped off and we couldn’t get up close with Margherita but we were able to say hi from a distance.

s margarita

On the way down we made quick stops at Chiesa San Niccolo (closed for the lunch hour) and Chiesa San Francesco. San Francesco is one of my favorites as well. Small and simple. The first time I saw it was in 2000 or 2001. It was barely more than a ruin. There was a crazy old priest who “took care” of it. The pews were mostly gone or broken, the alter was falling to pieces, there were pieces of the ceiling on the floor… it was bad. We happened to see the priest outside and asked if we could see the church. His robes were covered in dust and he smelled a little funny but he grinned and let us in. We walked up and down the isle and were getting ready to leave when he waved us over to a little room behind and to the side of the alter… he babbled quickly in Italian and pointed at a curtain on the wall… he smiled and pulled the cord and the curtains opened to a glass case in which was what he told us was a tunic actually belonging to St Francis. He was very proud and excited to show us. We were suitably impressed if maybe a little skeptical. Then he shooed us out and closed the door. Today the church is well restored. The priest is long gone and the tunic sits in a place of honor in a glass box in a place of next to the alter with big alarm warning signs in front of it.