As per usual I was up long before Anara, who never seemed to want breakfast. She’s not a coffee drinker and values sleep over the solitude of morning. I confess, when I’m somewhere new to explore sleep just doesn’t seem all that important. On a regular old day here at home, when there are work or study commitments, all bets are off. By nature, I’m far more a night owl than early bird.

All that to say, San Gimignano was the pearl in the current oyster of my world, and I was up just as dawn broke. I quickly got dressed, having showered the night before, and slipped out the front door careful not to wake others who shared the common entryway. I tried to make careful note of my steps and landmarks so I could find my way back after my walk.

The still dawning sky was clear on the hilltop where the village is perched, but down below laid a blanket of fog dotted with other hilltops peeking up through it.

With no destination in mind, I went where my feet and heart led. At times I was outside the old city walls but spent most of my precious alone moments winding through the still quiet little streets passing by closed shops waiting for the busyness of the day to begin.

In the distance after the sun came up some church bells rang in the new day which signaled it was time for coffee and pastries. God speaks, I listen.

When I started to get the feeling that getting on the road was more important than lingering too much longer, and knowing how long it was going to take me to roust Anara from bed and for her to get ready to go, I headed back to let her know that the MamaBus would be leaving with or without her in 45 minutes. Places to go; things to see; stuff to do!!!

Our suitcases made the same nuclear-loud racket going back down to the car as they did coming into town the night before making sure that the folks who weren’t awakened by the church bells were so by our noisy tourist selves. This time, we took the much shorter, more direct, route that we should have taken the first time we made the trek. It was not dark.

With San Gimignano in the rearview mirror, we set our sights for the town of Pistoia and Collodi where you’ll see a boy with a very long nose.