After an exhausting day in the 'five lands', and then a quiet night last night in La Spezia, we were on the road by mid-morning, heading south for Pisa.
The road was good, the traffic not that bad along the route south. There were no big cities along the way with their congested beltways, so it was an easy drive. Hal was a big help, and no problems to report. I've had some email comments about the ride and the traffic, and I feel obligated to remind those of you who read these comments that I am sometimes prone to exageration in order to make the story interesting. Everything I say is true, but our reactions to the events are much more understated than I make out in the stories and Jan rarely babbles incoherently as I sometimes say. However, in the interest of full disclosure, our wine consumption in the evenings has increased dramatically. When we are tucked safely into a hotel for the evening, of course.
Today's ride was about 45 minutes, quite tame. We found a place on the street in Pisa, a very rare parking place, which Hal identified as being within walking distance of the Tower and the Miracoli Plaza that it is part of. I figured the parking would be lots worse as we got closer, and one space in the hand is worth a bunch in the bush even if the bush is closer to the destination. The walk turned out to be about three quarters of an hour long, just enough to get the circulation going again, and a lovely path along the river. The road was named after Galileo Galileli, a rather famous person whose history is forever linked with the Tower. Just an aside, the cross street near where we parked was named for Fibbonacci, another famous name in the science of Mathematics. Truly we were walking in the footprints of giants today, and we knew it.
Along the river we walked, following the yellow signs to Miracoli Plaza, crossing over a bridge just in front of a statue of Garibaldi, then turning left to continue our path along the river now on the far side. Jan and I watched signs and took pictures to ensure that we could return to our car before the parking expired five hours from now. We reached a cross street that had a sign at the far side, across the river, that I thought pointed to Miracoli, but I wasn't sure. What the hell, we turned right anyway at the street and started walking. Pisa is known as a university town (The University of Pisa, we passed the Registrar's office along the way) so many young people were walking along singly and in groups, chattering away as they do. But they could have been going to class and not the Tower, so that was no guide. We saw a woman exiting her shop and locking her door, so Jan asked here about the Tower. At first she shook her head and waved her hands, saying 'No English', then she heard Jan mentioning the word 'Tower'. Then a big smile and 'Oh Yes! The Tower! It is that way!' and she pointed to continue down the street, which we did.
Still nothing in sight as we walked along, now about six blocks from the river. But then ahead I saw what looked like a church, or cathedral, so we were hopeful but still puzzled at the lack of the Tower's visibility. It is tall, after all, or maybe it just fell over so we can't see it, all these thoughts playing idly in my mind. Then we were set upon by hawkers, big black guys with funny accents, trying to sell us Rolex watches, genuine Rolex, 150 Euro, cheap. I didn't tell him mine cost $5 US in Shanghai, it would have just made him madder as I had already tried to get rid of him for a block by now. On we walked, convinced that if the hawkers were there the Tower couldn't be far. Jan noticed a trailer beside the road selling Hamburgers, she laughed and said it couldn't be far now. Then we came to the last corner.
Nothing prepared us for the sight. We know it leans, that's why it is called The Leaning Tower of Pisa. But, Omygod, surely not like that!. It is tall, very tall, about the equivalent of a nine story building in our world. And it is circular and very thick at the bottom, tapering only slightly all the way up to the top level. And it is tilted a way, way, way off center.
In appearance, it is much like the centerpiece of a wedding cake but without the bride and groom perched atop. No disrespect intended, a very beautiful centerpiece for sure, the top level being the eighth tier and with marble columns ringing each layer. Above and below the columns are the carved decorations in the marble, looking like they could be made from confectioner's sugar. But this metaphor fails almost immediately, it is just a fleeting thought in my mind, this thing is a monster. And it about to fall over, I know it. I've never seen anything that big that leans like that. If it were Canada, the area would be cordoned off and cops ringing the site, and the liability lawyers would be clapping their hands in glee at the coming disaster.
On we walked, to the left along side of the grassy area by the cathedral. As we went, the apparent lean increased. The direction of lean was almost straight toward us as we first sighted the tower, and now, moving left, we were at about ninety degrees from the lean. It is an overwhelming sight. Huge, tall and wide, and about to fall there can be no doubt of that. My overwhelming memory now as I write this is how very big the tower really is, far more massive than I had thought it would be.
And it leans, waaayyyyy over. Let's go up, says Jan. WHAT!!? says I, not wanting to believe that I could join that group of people circling the top ring of the tower. Sure, says Jan, let's go get tickets. Moment of truth now, do I pussy out or go for it? Is there really a choice?
So we get tickets and get to the entry way, first in line. Small groups of people are allowed up every thirty minutes, so we had about 20 minutes to wait. A huge advantage of travelling at this time of year is that the crowds are at an absolute minimum, lineups are almost non-existent, and the people are a lot less tense. As we stood, I spoke with the staff member at the entry station. He was very friendly and spoke very good English as has been our experience with almost everyone in Italy. He told us a great deal of the Tower's history and recent history with the reclamation attempts. Prior to the work that began in the late 1990's, and continues today, there was no doubt that the tower would have fallen by now. But the European community pulled together to save the landmark and the necessary work was undertaken to maintain the status-quo. Not that they want to straighten it out, of course, they just don't want it to fall down. Me too, especially today. He assured me it wouldn't. Quickly our wait time was up, and we were let into the circular building through the arched entry way at the base.
The tower is circular, as stated, and has a hollow core. It has two walls, the one you see from the outside, which is just within the ring of marble columns that surround each layer or floor. Inside that circular wall is a staircase going round and round as it rises, with a wall just inside that. You can't see into the hollow part of the tower, so the effect from inside is a narrow circular staircase, marble steps and marble sides, and marble ceiling sloping up and away a short distance above my head. Roughly every 'floor' there is a landing about three feet wide and about five feet deep, with an opening in the marble external wall to look out of while you catch your breath. Jan and I didn't have a problem, luckily we got the Cinque Terre exercise, but many others had difficulty with the climb, they said. It is a total of three hundred steps, and there aren't any 'floors' as we would think of them. It is actually a bell tower, or belfry, in its original design, so the stairs were for the workers to go up to care for and tune the bells, while the hollow center core was for the bell ropes to hang in. At the base, on the ground, the bell ringers did their work when called upon. There was no need for floors, until the seventh and eighth. As we walked up, we noticed that sometimes the stairs seemed easier to climb and sometimes even harder than we expected. The light quickly dawned on Jan and I, it was the lean of the tower. From inside you cannot see the horizon, but the stairs leaned so much toward the earth or away from it that we could always tell where we were in the circle of the staircase.
At the seventh floor we opened out onto the Bell Tower floor. Here, massive bells hang and there is a floor to walk on, the center hole covered by plexiglass, as we took pictures. Then, up the final very narrow spiral marble staircase to the very top.
At the top, it is very high. We knew that, we could see from the bottom how high it was. But from the top, OMG! It is waaaayyyyy up there, you can see for miles (of course, silly, this was the observation tower to spot invading armies) and the upturned faces at the bottom look like little pink dots. And the lean was very apparent too, I got over on one side at what I thought was 90 degrees to the direction of lean, and squatted down and took a picture that placed the inner railing of the hollow center section of the tower squarely against the horizon. I hope that picture shows the details, because from the appearance to the naked eye one side of the railing is way above the horizon and the other side of the railing is way below. But we try not to think about that as we wander about up there taking pictures and movies. After about ten minutes or so on the eighth floor we were told to start down, another group was going to be coming. It doesn't seem like much time there, but in reality it was plenty. The day was perfect, clear and cool, neither hot nor cold, some clouds and some blue sky and sun, perfect for our visit. More pictures, some of Jan, some of me, some of us together by the girl's tripod and some from our new friends who took them just as we took some for them on their cameras. Its funny how a shared experience like this can bring a diverse group together. Down the staircases, narrow and winding, just like at Blarney Castle. Down past the seventh floor into the body of the tower. We could tell which direction we were going from the way the stairs seemingly fell away from us, or seemed to rise toward us even though we were descending. Finally the bottom, and just before exiting I took several pictures of the plaque, in Latin, that pronounced Galileo's experiment long ago in this same tower. We were definitely in the footprints of giants today, walking the same staircase.
At the bottom, on the firm ground again, we were satiated. We wandered, took more pictures to support our memories as the moment fades, but we had no interest in seeing the cemetary with its statues or the baptistery or the cathedral or the museum. We were done, full, replete. No matter what else we saw, after Cinque Terre yesterday and the tower today, we wouldn't even register it.
So it was a very very late lunch, a light one this time which they served us in a nearly deserted restaurant, then 'home' to the car. Once there the question arose of where to spend the night. Our next main destination is Florence (Firenze to the locals) but it is too late today to make it there enjoyably. We settled on Lucca, about 16 kilometers from Pisa. Anticipating the late hour of arriving at a hotel, and that we may not want to go get dinner, we ordered a Pizza to go while we had our earlier meal. I had to do it. A Pizza from Pisa, I didn't have a choice, I had to do it.
Tonight we are in Lucca, arriving much later than our usual habits dictate. So its off to bed after writing these notes, we didn't even feel like dinner tonight but our Pisa Pizza was calling to us. We think we'll take the weekend off and spend it here. We expect that Florence will be such a rich experience that we had better be rested and eager before we go there if we want to get the full effect of its treasures.
A Pisa Pizza, don't you love the symmetry of that?
