The tower is reopening after 12 years. 
But there's more to discover in Tuscany's 'second' city.

Los Angeles Times
By Marshall S. Berdan
December 16 2001

PISA, Italy -- For many tourists, Pisa comes as a mere snack compared with 
the more elegant and nourishing Florence, its glamorous sister on the Arno 
River in the bella Italia region of Tuscany.

This is not completely unjustified. If push comes to shove, which it 
generally does when touring Italy, Pisa can be reduced to a one-site 
destination.

But what a site that is. Known formally as the Campo dei Miracoli, or Field 
of Miracles, it includes not only the unforgettable Torre Pendente (Leaning 
Tower) but also the magnificent Romanesque Duomo (cathedral) and Battistero 
(baptistery), a threesome that every guidebook lists among the most 
impressive sights in Italy. It is made more so because they are surrounded by 
manicured green lawns from which the admiring hordes are politely excluded.

Now visitors will have even more reason to linger in Tuscany's "second" city. 
After 12 years of renovations, the tower was scheduled to reopen Saturday, 
much to the delight of the local community and post-Sept. 11 tourists, who 
may be cheered by the way Pisa has overcome a world that tilted. They will 
once again be able to scale the circular interior stairwell and experience 
the same gravitational attraction that is said to have lured astronomer 
Galileo Galilei, Pisa's most famous son.

In the early 1970s, I climbed the internal cylindrical staircase and was 
surprised to find how steep the tilt, how quickly one picked up momentum 
coming out the doorway at each level, and especially how interesting it was 
that there were no guardrails.

Rails were finally installed in the '80s, but that was all that was done to 
counter the pull of gravity until December 1989, when an even younger bell 
tower that wasn't leaning collapsed in the northern city of Pavia, killing 
four people. The next month the Leaning Tower was closed for stabilization, a 
process that was hoped to have been completed in time for the millennium. 
Given the tower's universal fame and proven drawing power--more than a 
million visitors in 1989--the decision was made not to right it completely 
but to restore it to a degree of relative stability.

And there's more to the celebrated Campo than just the tower. The standard 
combination admission ticket also includes the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo 
(cathedral construction museum); the Camposanto, or cemetery, a cloistered 
aboveground mausoleum in which the bodies of noble Pisans were placed in the 
vacated sarcophagi of noble Romans amid 53 shiploads of soil brought back 
from Calvary; and the Sinopie museum, containing the red ink sketches that 
preceded the application of frescoes. Seeing all six takes a full day and is 
substantially more satisfying when interspersed with meals and a little 
shopping.

In April my wife, Stacie, and I celebrated our fifth anniversary by spending 
the night in Pisa rather than continuing on to Florence, an hour away. Not 
only were comparable high-quality accommodations and meals about 25% cheaper 
(justifying our splurge at the Grand Hotel Duomo), but after the exodus of 
day-trippers around 6 p.m., we had the old city largely to ourselves, other 
than the several thousand students who attend the 650-year-old university and 
give Pisa its ever young, if not always ever studious, vitality.

No brusque "completo" dismissals at the best trattorie; no madding crowds on 
our evening stroll along the palazzo-lined Arno; and no rush to choose a 
flavor at the popular gelateria in the Piazza Garibaldi.

And as we discovered, there's another advantage to spending the night in 
Pisa: a second chance for a clear day. The weatherworn tower doesn't 
photograph well against a weather-beaten sky. After an introductory day of 
constant rain, we were particularly thankful when the morrow broke clear and 
cloudless, with the snow atop the 6,000-foot Apuan Alps glittering in the 
background.

It was then that the glory that is Pisa shone brightest.

A bustling seaport in the Roman empire, Pisa became a great naval power in 
the 9th century.

Construction of the celebrated tower began in 1173 during what became known 
as Pisa's Golden Age. The tower, designed by Bonanno Pisano (the "Pisano" 
identifying his hometown, not his family name), was to be Europe's tallest 
and most ornate bell tower, a fitting symbol for the new regional superpower 
and the gem of Pisa's ambitious urban renewal program.

No sooner had the first three of six colonnaded tiers been completed than the 
tower started leaning. The fault, however, lay in neither the design nor the 
execution, but in the unstable alluvial plain upon which the resplendent new 
city was being built.

A century later, with the base tilting southward, construction resumed. 
Successive architects compensated for the lean by making the features on the 
southern side correspondingly "taller." As soon as the recessed belfry, now 
purposefully angled 6 feet northward, was added in the 14th century, the 
finally completed tower became an unintended symbol of proud Pisa's own 
shifting fortunes. In 1284, Pisa had seen its naval supremacy negated by 
archrival Genoa at the battle of Meloria; in 1406, Pisa fell under Florentine 
control.

During the next 400 years, the lean gradually increased from 1.6 degrees to 5 
degrees, more than enough to allow Galileo to prove his theory of the uniform 
acceleration of gravity in 1590 by dropping objects of different weights from 
its top (though modern historians doubt this story).

By the 19th century, it was apparent that if something wasn't done to arrest 
the tower's downward progress, Pisa would soon lose what had already become 
its world-famous attraction.

The first two government-sponsored restorations succeeded only in making 
matters worse. In 1838, the original, now sunken walkway encircling the base 
was excavated in an effort to analyze the foundations for a more 
comprehensive restoration. The tower responded by slumping a full foot and a 
half.

A century later, dictator Benito Mussolini ordered 80 tons of concrete poured 
unequally into the foundation in the hopes of nudging it northward. The tower 
again slipped farther south. But when heavy Allied bombing in 1944 didn't 
budge it an inch, the authorities concluded that the long-standing tower was 
indeed a miracle and that it was destined to stay that way forever.

And so matters stood until the Pavia collapse forced the government into 
preemptive action. After two false starts, the first of 41 steel extraction 
tubes--long and thin but sturdy tubes through which the compacted soil was 
sucked out--was angled underneath the tower's north side in February 1999. To 
ensure that the tower remained steady during the two-year process, steel 
cables tethered to sunken weights were looped around the third tier.

By the time the extraction process was completed last January, about 110 tons 
of compacted silt had been removed, enough to reduce the overhang (the 
distance the top of the tower extends above the base) from 17 to 15 feet but 
not enough to be discernible to the untrained eye. The steel cables were 
removed in May, followed by the last of the extraction tubes.

The delays have been unfortunate, but as Nerio Nesi, minister of public 
works, said at Pisa's three-day annual festival in June, "Eleven years of 
work are not too much if you consider that to build this monument it took two 
centuries. We can tell the Italian citizens with pride that we have spent 
their money well."

And though they will be limited to guided groups of 30, 21st century tower 
toppers aren't likely to disagree. Recent gravitational corrections 
notwithstanding, the top of the tower is destined to be its old compelling 
self.

But intent on going beyond the tower and seeing overlooked Pisa, we wandered 
south through the town's 12th century core. Eventually we emerged onto the 
Borgo Stretto, the meandering commercial thoroughfare whose overhanging 
second stories are supported by a series of graceful, fluted Gothic columns.

Just to the east lies the university, a six-block conglomeration of pastel 
ochre and orange buildings, where Galileo studied and taught. Students, not 
tourists, abound here, whether lingering in the cozy, cafe-laden Piazza Dante 
Alighieri or scurrying to class through the expansive Piazza dei Cavalieri. 
Dominating the latter are the Palazzo dell'Orologio (Palace of the Clock 
Tower), complete with central bell tower, and the Scuola Normale Superiore 
with its ornate graffito decorations.

For our anniversary meal that evening, we lingered over boar and venison and 
a bottle of Chianti Riserva selected by our waitress in the upscale Antica 
Trattoria il Campano in the Vicolo Santa Margherita, housed--no surprise to 
Italian speakers--in the base of a 12th century bell tower.

But before turning in, it was once more round the softly floodlit Campo, 
which, except for a lone cyclist on his way home, we had to ourselves. If 
there was no other reason to overnight in Pisa, this was it. Devoid of the 
daily hordes, it was only at night that the Campo fulfilled its original, 
spiritually inspiring duty.

The next morning we were the first tourists inside the Duomo, and the first 
ushered out. (The time before 10 a.m. is reserved for worshipers.) 
Fortunately, we had spent two hours here the previous day, soaking up the 
Moorish-influenced cream and green striped marble walls and the lavish 
paleo-Christian interior, the undisputed highlight of which is Giovanni 
Pisano's monumental marble pulpit with its nine panels depicting scenes from 
the life of Christ. The Duomo is worth no less than an hour, and it was to 
see it without the roving crowds of babbling tour groups (all speaking their 
own languages) that I tried sneaking in early the next 
morning--unsuccessfully, as it turned out.

So we made our way over to Santa Maria della Spina, a diminutive Gothic 
chapel originally built on the bank of the Arno but reassembled atop a quay 
in 1871 after a series of devastating floods. In contrast to the overwhelming 
Duomo, Santa Maria della Spina is small and intimate. People clearly came 
here to commune with God.

Today, the object of their veneration, the reliquary box containing the 
thorn, or spina, believed to have been taken from Jesus' crown--along with 
most of Pisa's medieval and Renaissance ecclesiastical art--is housed at the 
Museo Nazionale di San Matteo, a converted 15th century convent that 
overlooks the Arno.

Not surprisingly, the artists tend to be local as well, reflecting Pisa's 
status as one of Italy's leading cultural centers. Besides the paintings and 
sculptures of Nino, Nicola, Giunta and Giovanni Pisano are those of such 
"foreigners" as Donatello, Masaccio and Fra Angelico.

For more secular offerings, including the private collections of the Medici, 
Lorraine and Savoy dynasties, head to the nearby Museo Nazionale di Palazzo 
Reale. By now it was late afternoon, and we too were late in making our 
departure for Florence. After a fortifying caffe latte and torta pisana, a 
wedge-shaped custard pastry topped with pine nuts and powdered sugar, at the 
strategically situated Caffe Duomo, we finally headed east. I know it's not 
polite to keep a beautiful woman waiting, but I'm still inclined toward her 
more manageable older sister.
*
For more information: For general tourist information, visit the city of 
Pisa's Web site at www.pisaonline.it.

For detailed information about the Leaning Tower: the official Web site, 
www.duomo.pisa.it and the unofficial Web site, 
www.endex.com/gf/buildings/ltpisa/ltpisa.html.

Also, Italian Government Tourist Board, 12400 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 550, Los 
Angeles, CA 90025; (310) 820-1898, fax (310) 820-6357, www.italiantourism.com 
and www.enit.it.
*
Guidebook: Leaning Toward Pisa

Getting there: Pisa is virtually equidistant from Rome and Milan, so you have 
your choice of international gateways. From LAX, connecting service (change 
of planes) to Rome is offered on Alitalia, Lufthansa, KLM, Delta, British, 
Swissair, Continental and US Airways. Fares begin at $838, dropping to $712 
after Christmas. From LAX, nonstop service is available to Milan on Alitalia, 
and connecting service is offered on Lufthansa, KLM, United, British, Air 
France, Air Canada and Continental. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $712 
(higher at Christmas).

Telephones: To reach numbers below, dial 011 (the international access code), 
39 (the country code for Italy) and 050 (the city code for Pisa), followed by 
the local number.

Where to stay: Reasonably priced pensioni and alberghi can be found near the 
train station, but do your eyes and feet a favor by staying in one of the 
many slightly more expensive hostelries closer to the Campo, such as Albergo 
Gronchi, 1 Piazza Arcivescovado, 561-823, $29 double; or Albergo Helvetia, 31 
Via G. Boschi, 553-084, $37-$46 double.

For more expensive rooms with that world-famous view, head for the Grand 
Hotel Duomo, 94 Via Santa Maria, 561-894, fax 560-418, 
www.grandhotelduomo.it, $150 double; or the Villa Kinzica, 2 Piazza 
Arcivescovado, 560-419, fax 551-204, www.pisaonline.it/HotelVillaKinzica, $83 
double.

Where to eat: Perfectly adequate tourist fare can be found in the streets 
leading into the Campo dei Miracoli, but for traditional Pisan fare, head 
straight to Antica Trattoria il Campano, 44 Via Cavalca, 580-585. Entrees 
$10-$20.

Also recommended: Osteria la Grotta, 103 Via San Francesco, 578-105, housed 
in a vaulted wine cellar (closed Sundays), entrees $8-$15; and Antica 
Trattoria da Bruno, 12 Via Luigi Bianchi (just outside the city wall), 
560-818, fax 550-607 (closed Monday evening and all day Tuesday); entrees 
$12-$17.

For a midday snack, there's no place better than Caffe Duomo.

Tickets: Forty-five-minute guided tours, offered in groups of 30, are 
available 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. in winter and 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. in summer. Tickets 
(about $13) must be reserved. For information and reservations, call 560-547 
or fax 560-505.
*
Marshall Berdan is a freelance writer in Alexandria, Va.