Friday, December 5, 2008

Most Serene San Marino

“Go slow. There isn’t a lot to see,” an attendant at a tourist information office told me when I drove into the Most Serene Republic of San Marino aka Serenissima Repubblica di San Marino.

Her candour was, I soon discovered, just one of the aspects of the wee country’s singularity.

Set on an outcropping of the Apennine Mountains, it is the world’s oldest republic, based on its founding in the early part of the 4th century.

At that time, a Christian stonemason named Marinus (Italianised to Marino), was forced by agents of the Roman Emperor Diocletian to work at the Adriatic seaport of Rimini.

He escaped to the 2,500-foot Mount Titano about 10 miles west.

The settlement that collected around him was apparently too remote to be worth Roman reprisal, so Marino (who was eventually canonised) could say to his compatriots on his deathbed: “I leave you free.”

The commune managed to remain that way by good fortune, alliances and pluck.

Its independence was confirmed by several Popes and after finding refuge there in the wars leading up to the 1870 union of the Italian peninsula, republican leader Giuseppe Garibaldi did not insist on incorporating San Marino into the modern state of Italy that now surrounds it.

San Marino’s motto, “Libertas”, appears on its crest, along with the three towers built in the Middle Ages atop Mount Titano.

The iconic bastions reared up boldly as I followed a switchbacking road to the old town and capital of San Marino, a car-free zone built on a series of terraces.

Near the main gate, a policeman gave me a map showing about a dozen parking lots tucked around the hill town.

I found a spot close to the top and carried my bag to the nearby Hotel Rosa, underneath the first tower, known as La Rocca.

Like everything in Italian-speaking San Marino, the hotel and its terrace restaurant exude good government.

My modern single room on the second floor lacked charm but it had a window with a pleasing view over the roofs of the old town.

Moreover, Hotel Rosa is just a few doors away from the Waxworks Museum.

San Marino also has Curiosity, Torture and Modern Weaponry museums, legions of bus tourists and a wide range of souvenir shops, where you will find items as diverse as designer watches and Native American headdresses.

Most interesting are the stores devoted to imitation weapons, with medieval maces alongside AK-47s.

I was starting to wonder whether “Libertas” had evolved into San Marino-style Libertarianism when a shopkeeper explained that the weapons are purchased mostly by historical re-enactors.

A quick stroll that afternoon told me the town caters wholeheartedly to visitors, later confirmed when I read in a brochure that half the republic’s revenue comes from tourism.

Travellers stultified by places such as Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia; Stratford-upon-Avon, England; and Carcassonne, France; would be well warned to stay away.

But I can cope with tourist traps, so I unpacked and had dinner at Hotel Rosa.

San Marino cuisine resembles that of nearby Italian regions, including Emilia-Romagna, with plentiful seafood from the nearby Adriatic.

I had a delicious fried calamari starter, followed by baby clam spaghetti in red sauce.

The next morning I began exploring the old town by having my picture taken with a guard in a white-feathered shako at the Palazzo Pubblico on the Piazza della Liberta.

The boxy, medieval building with a clock tower is the seat of San Marino’s singular government, overseen by two Captains Regent who stand for re-election every six months.

The 19th-century San Marino Basilica above the Piazza della Liberta enshrines the founding saint’s bones.

Below is the State Museum and the post office, which sells prized San Marino stamps and coins.

It has a collection of forgettable Italian Baroque paintings and a far more interesting display of pendants, earrings and necklaces from the Treasure of Domagnano, found nearby in the tomb of a 6th-century noblewoman.

Alas, most of the items are reproductions of originals now at museums in Berlin, London and New York.

I saw a medieval crossbow demonstration, took the funicular down to the hamlet of Borgo Maggiore, then walked a path along the ridgeline of Mount Titano, passing all three towers. It is said, from here you can sometimes see right across the Adriatic to the coast of Croatia.

At breakfast the next morning, I was beginning to think the woman at the information office was right.

Having visited all the sights, I could not figure out how to spend my last day in San Marino.

But then I remembered the view from Mount Titano and set out in0 the car to sample the pleasures of the countryside.

The capital is surrounded by eight little townships, known as castellos for their ancient hilltop castles, where most of the country’s 30,000 residents live. It took 10 minutes to reach Fiorentino, where I stopped at a supermarket and bought a sandwich.

I planned to picnic in neighbouring Monte Giordano. But when I got there, an innkeeper told me to go to Albereto di Montescudo, an even smaller hill town reached by a precariously winding, one-lane road.

Somewhere along the way I must have crossed the border because Albereto is in Italy.

In the Middle Ages, the diminutive castello was controlled by the fearsome Malatesta family from Rimini. Now it is an elegant restaurant with a terrace overlooking Mount Titano.

While my sandwich spoiled in the car, I had lunch, starting with a plate of divine pistachio and artichoke ravioli.

A fillet of white fish in puttanesca sauce came next and dessert was cinnamon gelato with an espresso.

All the while, I gazed across the valley at the triple towers, wondering why we need big countries when there are beautiful, free and idiosyncratic small ones such as San Marino.

No comments:

Post a Comment