The sky is cut with steel today with clouds that are encased in a silver lining that threatens to burst its load of fat rain bullets at any time.

 

But you, ever the optimists, head off in the car anyway.

 

You sing along to terrible country music, laughing that you all know the words, as the roads engorge themselves on the lush Tuscan countryside.

 

Taking the road less travelled, but more scenic, you take your time to your destination. You stop in a town that appears to consist of a coffee shop and 3 houses, back-dropped with fields tinted with red poppies. Their red slashes the grey of the early afternoon.

 

Driving along, you are all preoccupied with the skies. Will the gods of rain be good to you or the farmers today?

 

All of a sudden, the driver stops the car, parking lopsidedly in a ditch on the side of a roughly gravelled country road. You all get out the car.

 

Heads tilt back as you wonder at this - the clouds, they stop here, as if neatly folded and placed gently over the barren grounds, they form a line in the sky. Beyond, it is white with sunlight.

 

You get back in the car and the conversation is consumed for several minutes by conversation of strange natural occurrences, great storms, flash floods, clouds that looked like great grandfathers… until a fantastic song comes onto the radio and you are distracted by a catchy tune.

 

Heads and feet pop and bob metronomically as you all sing along, conversation rejected by the visual consummation of the landscape and the oral expulsion of out of tune voices.

 

Whilst in Tuscany, it is at time definately the journey and not just the destination, you are all somewhat relieved to arrive in the car park on the outskirts of your walled destination. The parks are so tight however, you must all alight to let the driver squeeze into the narrow-lined parking space.

 

San Gimignano. A small town amongst many, whose avant garde mayor saved the city from despair by promoting it as a tourist destination. Many thought he was crazy, but the fact that San Gimignano flourishes, and deservedly so, answers any critics.

 

One of you knows some less-known aspects of this city, so you enter into the walled city from a small doorway rather than the usual large front opening.

 

In order to enter, you must climb many narrow, ancient stone stairs. You arrive at the top, entering into a small park area. Two teenage boys sit on a park bench to one side. A child swings on the playground equipment, head thrown back and mouth open, his mother watching on with affection at his sheer joy from such a simple pleasure.

 

Meanwhile, you follow your guide, across the park until he stops and asks for your camera. Poses are struck, time is captured at rapid shutter-speed as you smile into the afternoon sun.

 

You walk to the edge of the park, then up a narrow set of (more!) stone stairs to a small yet crowded platform. From here, you see 8 towers of San Gimignano. Of various sizes and shapes, these towers are the last standing of many. They form a stacked Lego skyline over the stunning Tuscan landscape that everyone on the lookout wants to photograph.

 

Taking turns to snap shots, people pose and smile back dropped by the towered skyline.

 

Next you head into the centre of the city. A maze of narrow cobbled streets open into piazzas with churches, wells, stores, bars…. a city buzzing with tourists and locals enjoying the lazy afternoon.

 

It is heading towards early evening, still hours away by Italian standards until dinner. You decide that you all must have a gelato. There is nothing else for it.

 

You are in Piazza della Cisterna, and head for the Gelateria di Piazza. One of you orders the less-than-adventurous standard gelato choice he has each and every time - chocolate and vanilla with whipped cream on top. The rest of you opt for something more adventurous, but it is you that chooses something even more extraordinary than the others… the Vernaccia gelato!

 

Honestly, it is not very nice. By mixing these two wonderful things together - wine and ice cream, you somehow lose the best of both of them. However, since your chocolate-and-vanilla friend had advised against the option, paired with a delicious peach gelato, you are want to look at it from the clear blue expanse of the sky rather than beyond the gray divide; you see your decision as an experience, truly fitting to being in San Gimignano.

 

You walk to the next piazza over and seat yourselves on the church steps whilst you eat your gelati. A young child runs rings around his parents, entangling them in the extraordinary long string of his red balloon that tries to unite with the duskened sky. A couple, dressed strangely the same, speak to each other with a 2cm distance between their faces, a family wanders through the piazza, kids running ahead and being called back by hand-holding parents. And teens, they meander and slouch and care too much as teens will do, these ones, being Italian, do so whilst also looking extremely chic.

 

You walk into a street next to the church, to the Caffè della Erbe, which has a great wine list and some snacks. The outdoor tables are filled, but you spy one being vacated that you quickly grab.

 

You order the real thing this time - a glass of the famed San Gimignano white, the Vernaccia.

 

Facing the stone facade of the church, in a little caffè tucked away in San Gimignano, you while away some hours, barely paying attention to the waning sunlight in the still clear sky.

 

With glasses emptied, and rumbling bellies dictating that it is time to continue on with your evening, you give your legs one last stretch on this hilly little town as you head up and down and then out of San Gimignano.