We had already walked some of Siena the previous evening — a short recce from the hotel, just getting our bearings. This was something else. An evening out, properly, in a city we were only beginning to understand.
We had been at the restaurant for drinks and snacks and left the Piazza and turned right, which was not the right direction. We established this some distance later, having walked into a part of Siena that does not feature heavily in the guides — past the old psychiatric hospital, its grand archway still bearing the words Ospedale Psichiatrico in stone above the gate, lit up in the dark like a film set for something unsettling.
The Ospedale Psichiatrico gateway arch, floodlit, Italian and EU flags
We were chatting. We had not been paying attention to where we were going. By the time we worked it out and reoriented, we had walked considerably further than planned.
The thing about going the wrong way in Siena at night is that you end up somewhere you would not otherwise have been — and everything you find there is yours in a way that a planned itinerary never quite produces. We found a small marble fountain we knew nothing about, set into a wall in a courtyard. We found street shrines, lit from below, in arched niches above the parked cars.
Street shrine, Madonna relief in an arched niche, lit from below, car roof beneath
We found, by accident, the Piazza Salimbeni — the square in front of the Monte dei Paschi di Siena, one of the oldest banks in the world. At nine o’clock on a February evening it was virtually empty, the buildings lit warm gold, a statue in the centre, the blue of the sky above still holding some light. Four people by the statue. Nobody else.
Piazza Salimbeni at night, blue sky, golden palaces, three figures by the statue
Nobody told us to come here. This is exactly why we do it like this.
Blue hour
At some point in the walk — somewhere between getting thoroughly lost and finding our way back to somewhere recognisable — the sky did the thing it sometimes does in February. It went from dark to deep Prussian blue, the kind of colour that makes everything lit below it look theatrical. We passed a church with a stained glass rose window glowing through it, and the window colour against that sky was worth the wrong turn by itself.
Small brick church at dusk, vivid rose window against deep blue sky
Then the Porta Romana, the main gate into the historic centre — baroque stone arch, elaborate carved surround, cars running through it — caught in the blue hour from across the road.
Porta Romana at blue hour, ornate marble gateway, traffic passing, blue above
The cathedral at night
We found the cathedral from the wrong direction too — came around a corner and there it was framed through a brick arch, the campanile rising into the black above the dome, lit gold, the stripes unmistakable even at this distance.
Duomo campanile framed through a brick arch at night
We walked the full circuit of the building. This takes longer than you expect, because the Duomo is bigger than it looks from any single angle. The side elevation — baptistery to the right, the full striped flank rising — is a different experience from the façade. Both are worth standing in front of for a while. There was almost nobody else there.
Duomo floodlit from the side, baptistery right, campanile rising
Then the façade, straight on, empty steps, everything lit gold against the dark. We stood there for a while without saying much. We had been inside it earlier that day and known what it was. Outside at night it was something else again — quieter, somehow larger, the gold mosaics at the top just visible in the floodlighting.
Duomo west façade at night, completely empty, lit golden against black
Arancini
On the way back down towards the Campo, there was a street seller — a man with a cart, working for a limited season, selling arancini. The kind you know immediately are the real thing: heavy, properly crumbed, rice and ragù inside, hot from the fryer. We had two each. We should have had more.
The Campo again
The same bar as the afternoon. Same deal with the snacks — they appeared without being asked, kept coming, made dinner unnecessary again. Sarah had a funky looking cocktail and myself, the enormous stein. It is the size of a small bucket. The pink heating lamp above the table turned everything the colour of a darkroom.
Sarah at the bar table, the stein, the blue cocktail, the pink light
Outside, the Campo was doing what the Campo does at night — functioning as a living room for everyone who lives here and everyone who is passing through, at the same time, without any apparent tension between them. A few tourists. More locals. People sitting directly on the herringbone brick in February, which takes a certain commitment.
Piazza del Campo at night, restaurants lit red, people on the bricks, the curved bowl of the piazza
We ended back at the Fonte Gaia end of the Campo, which gives you the whole view in one frame — the Palazzo Pubblico and the Torre del Mangia lit against a sky that had kept its blue, the clock on the tower showing a time we had stopped paying attention to.
Torre del Mangia and Palazzo Pubblico, Prussian blue sky, the whole façade lit
We did not need to have gone the wrong way. But we are very glad we did.
Siena, Tuscany — 5.00 miles — 1hr 45m — 351ft — 8,776 steps