We went back into town, stopping for breakfast and a visit to the Church of St. Catherine of Siena. Here one can find both the real head (inside a metal head) and a preserved finger of the Saint.

Then we went to the Campo, which was nearly empty. There were a few tourists, and a couple of guys in wheelchairs, in training for the Special Olympics Palio.

A few yards of the Campo is the synagogue, and, when we tried the door, found it unlocked. As we entered the foyer, we heard a lone voice, chanting upstairs. We climbed up and entered the synagogue, much simpler and smaller than that in Florence. A solitary old man sat along the side wall, chanting the portion of the week from a Tikkun.He was from the school of mumblers, what Adam would call the voozvoozim,but his chant was clearly Sephardic. He acknowledged my presence with a gesture to put on a prayer shawl from the pile on a nearby bench. I put on the talit,and Carol set respectfully on the other side of the room, although the ladies' section was upstairs, behind a screen. When he heard from our responses that we knew something, he invited her to approach, and the three of us sat together. He asked us to chant a psalm, Havu ladonai b'nei eilim,and we could see tears in his eyes. He had us sing Adon Olam,as well. I guess he is the Last of the Mohicans in Siena.

Observazione:The Italians have very high-style classy baby strollers, which are very flimsy. The Germans, and there are plenty of German tourists in Tuscany, since it is in the North of Italy, have strollers that are built like Panzer Tanks, which explains how they came rolling through Italy so easily 60 years ago.

We did some shopping. I tried on some fancy Italian shoes, but the soles were so thin, my feet hurt even on the carpet. We got Carol a very fashionable leather handbag for our anniversary. Two regrets for things I did not buy (this is a shopper's paradise): a walking stick with the silver head of Giuseppe Verdi on top and a beautiful leather wallet for $10. We went to the Duomo and a Gothic cathedral with great bas-relief sculpture.

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There is much more marble here than in Florence. In fact, the floor of our hotel room was done in fine marble.

We drove on into Umbria. The countryside here is much more agricultural than Chianti, with fewer buildings and rolling hills. It is quite beautiful.

We ended up for lunch at a restaurant at the Abbazia di Monte Oliveto Maggiore,a Benedictine monastery. In the parking lot were six brand new red Ferraris, all rented by young rich Germans. They loved revving the engines--but couldn't shift the gears without grinding them. What kind of letter did theywrite to Hertz?

The restaurant had a gorgeous garden and wonderful food. We splurged on one of the great wines of Tuscany--of the world, for that matter--half a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino ($12.50), a bottle of Pellegrino ($1.00), fried baby artichokes ($3), vegetable soup ($2.50), sautéed dandelion greens ($5.00). Grand total for an exquisite lunch for 2, with great wine was $42.00, service charge included.

We toured the abbey and viewed the frescos of the life and adventures of San Benedetto, who spent a lot of time driving out demons from infested sinners, as drawn by Il Sodomo,a licentious Sienese who is said to have enjoyed his work and earned his nickname. We bought some little gift bottles of grappa, honey, and a cassette for the car of motets by Palestrina and Victoria from the monks, whose vows of silence did not keep them from watching violent videotapes on TV, as they sold their wares.

We drove at high speed on endless curving mountain roads, every hairpin turn revealing another breathtaking vista. We passed through gorgeous little towns which weren't even on the map. Little spots of showers, alternating with beams of sunshine, tall cypresses and stately oaks, olive trees, poppies, bicyclists.

We entered Pienza, a jewel of a little hill town built by Pope Pius II in the 15th century, who named it after himself (Pius = Piety). It had a gorgeous cathedral, which he dedicated to himself. He was pious, but not so humble.

The view from the rear of the rear of the palazzo,with its hanging garden, looking out on 180° of rolling countryside with cypresses directly in front of us and mountains in the distance is unphotographable. I wanted to sit in the Pope's chair, since no one was in the church, but Carol would not take my picture. Herein lies the difference in the levels of our moral development. We bought some of the local specialties, salsicce di cinghiale(sausage of wild boar) and formaggio di pecorino(hard sheep cheese), for later.

In Montepulciano, we bought a few more gifts, then drove back to Siena and had supper in our room, along with a bottle of Chianti.