Somewhat more interesting than Siena, was the hill town of Volterra. Known mainly for its Etruscan artifacts and tombs, it occupies the ridge of a steepish little mountain in what seems a wilder part of Tuscany. The drive to this region is spectacular.

It happens now and then, even among entirely flexible travelers (which we insist we are), that a newly arrived-at place is being overrun by hordes of enthusiasts whose object is a non-starter for us. Masses of tourists doing touristy things, leaving us a pair of present but detached observers. Sigh. Two items of serendipity however: drenching rain and coffee shop where we took refuge. See the video, very typical.

The actual twelfth-century Saint Francis had his cell here, in the hills behind Cortona. We visited the tiny room, carved in the rock. I wanted to see drawings from a time nearer to when the beloved Preacher-to-birds lived there. The warren of cells we were surrounded by (about one per window) surely came much later. Impressive for its stillness.

The dramatic clouds seen in the linked video appeared artistic and moody from here but, when we later reached Cortona on that hill opposite, proved chockfull of sloppy moisture and a little ice.

Levanto is on our list for next time on the Italian Riviera. The Cinque Terre, discovered and promoted by PBS travel doyen Rick Steves, has become notably overtaken by grudging automotive type tourists. Translate that latter attributive phrase this way: loud, overweight, full of selves, flashing chunky white legs in ironed shorts.

In a sense Levanto is that way, too. But the town is built for it, has been accustomed to hosting the wealthy for decades. And I must say that as a mecca for middle-class Italians/French/Germans, it does have a certain charm, not unlike a very specialized zoo. Which is not to insult anyone, so much as to observe that some animals indeed are more equal than others. And they are entertaining to watch.