Siena is an old city. The world-famous Palio horse race held
in the large central square, Piazza del Campo, officially dates back to 1283,
though many think its origins go back to Roman military training.

One can learn many things in Siena, like the fact that its
main bell tower, Torre del Mangia, is named after the lazy bell-ringer who was
“eating” up the profits, or that you can’t just drive your clunky mini-bus
smack dab into the city center.

It’s hard to believe the amount of adventure one can have
with a mini-bus in Italy. In fact, I’ve grown so fond of mine that I’m trying
to figure out how to buy it and have it shipped back to the states.  The darn thing is practically a magic
carpet, going anywhere and everywhere as though it weren’t a hundred feet long
and fourteen wide.

These old medieval towns throughout Tuscany, many having
origins predating the Roman era, are built atop hills. You can see their old
buildings jutting up into the sky from miles away, crowded inside a city wall.
The hot setup for a tourist is to drive to a parking area just outside the city
walls, then walk inside for peaceful sightseeing, largely free from cars and
traffic.

Until the Bradys come along. Upon arriving in Siena I
thought I saw a sign for parking just beyond the arched entry. Sure enough,
there were at least four ample parking spaces provided, which were filled by
seventy-six midget cars. The GPS confidently led me onward and I confidently
complied. The roads got narrower and narrower and the crowds of people thicker
and thicker. Those pesky pedestrians were really clogging up our path and making
it hard to get through. But the mini-bus was having a powerful effect on those
folks, parting them like the Red Sea. At one point while we were annoyingly at
a standstill, a couple of nice ladies attempted to explain something to me.
With my ever-increasing ability to speak and understand Italian, I got the
following out of what they were saying: “You idiot.”

Being the experienced world travelers we are came in
extremely handy at this moment. Terri and the kids jumped out and we made
arrangements to meet up in the main city square. This was possible because I
very skillfully kept the conversation going with the vigilante ladies long
enough to buy time for Terri and the kids to make their escape. Things were
working out swimmingly. As my five and six year old can only handle so many
steps taken in the name of tourism, and since their appreciation for Gothic
architecture and the history of Tuscany’s artists hasn’t quite reached full
maturity, conserving their travel distance is a great strategy for extending
the potential time for touring. This latest maneuver of ours would shave off
literally HALF of their required steps. It was going to be a great day.

With all the helpful instruction I’d received, snaking my
way out of town proved to be no problem at all.  Finding a parking space was a bit more challenging, but eventually
I procured one in Minnesota.

I have read about walking tours through Siena, and how
serene and educational they can be. But for my money, I’d rather take the
driving tour. Trust me, there’s nothing quite like Siena by car, or, um, mini-bus.