Actually, it wasn’t a fateful decision (see end of previous post). It was a bad decision. Heck, “bad decisions” are when you have information and make the wrong choice. Instead, it was an unlucky decision. Yeah, that makes me feel better. Call it an unlucky decision. I decided we should go to Volterra. It’s about 30 kms west from San Gimignano.
Every so often, on a trip, we are going to hit a dud. Volterra was our dud. In those situations, you gotta do what the pros do – shake it off.
The drive to the town is nice, but Volterra itself, on that day, left much to be desired. It was like walking around a ghost town (speaking of which, they have a museum of torture as well, but the girls declined the opportunity to go in for some reason). We got gelatto, wandered around, but even the piazzas were devoid of life.
We blew town. If you are wandering around Tuscany, don’t feel like you need to make the side trip to Volterra. Although, to be fair, it is possible that it is nicer most days than when we were there. Or maybe not. Of the seven towns we went to, it ranks eighth.
The most interesting part of the trip to Volterra was the parking. Before squeezing into the last available space in the packed lot (at least it was free parking), everyone else got out of the car, and we pulled in the side view mirrors (we did a lot of that whilst on narrow roads in Radda and other tight spots).
I then crossed over to the passenger side, opened the door as far as possible (think not very far), and then contorted my way out the door. I had to do a reverse contortion to get back in. Backing out left no margin for error. Heroically, I managed to back out no problem. If there had been a big crowd, they would have roared approval. As it where, the kids cheered for me.
We shook off Volterra, and then drove uneventfully to Florence, although we were greeted by rain on the outskirts of the city.
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