Stepping into the Unknown

If you have only a much forgotten smattering of geographic knowledge that you, in spite of the best effort of your brain cells, still remember from your middle school days, then you are probably, much as Erich of three months ago was, aware that the smallest country in the world is Vatican City which is entirely inside the city of Rome, Italy. But if you are like that Erich of the past, then you are unaware that there is another country which is entirely inside the borders of Italy. (No, I don't mean Italy itself.) This country is called San Marino. You also wouldn't know that its capital city is called San Marino (which does make it easier to remember.) What's more, you don't know that it is the fifth smallest country in the world. (In ascending order by size, the countries are Vatican City, Monaco, Nauru, Tuvalu, and then San Marino.) The entire country is 23 square miles in area. That's the same as the island of Manhattan, which is only one borough of a city (albeit a large one.)

You might think, "Maybe I never learned about San Marino because it didn't exist back when I was in school." If that is true, then you were probably classmates with Plato. Because San Marino is the oldest republic in the world. It's traditionally held founding date is 301 CE.

To explain the founding of this republic, we are entering the realm of legend—where we will encounter a villainous emperor, a woman of questionable sanity, a worker of miracles, and even throw in a few pirates to give it some spice—with not a lot of evidence to back it up. According to said legend, there was a stonemason named Marinus who came from the Island of Dalmatia to Rimini (back then a city in the Roman Empire, today a city in Italy) in 297 CE. The walls of Rimini had been destroyed by pirates. Yes, I promised pirates and I delivered! In response to this, Emperor Diocletian of Rome, put out a call for stonemasons to come rebuild. That's what brought Marinus over to the mainland.

But Marinus encountered some problems in Rimini. Of particular concern: he was Christian. Understand, this is the time before Rome became a Christian empire. Diocletian was actively pro-persecution of Christians. No problem, right? Marinus would just keep his faith on the DL. (The down low, not the disabled list. Baseball hadn't been invented yet.) But he was "outed" by an insane woman who accused him of being her estranged husband. This brought a lot of unwanted attention, so Marinus fled Rimini.

He went up. Marinus fled to Mount Titano which is only about 14 miles away from Rimini. But it's a steep climb. This was uninhabited rocky badlands. Here, he lived as a hermit, practicing his Christianity away from the prying eyes of Rome.

Sure, he was only 14 miles away from a major city, but the Romans had no idea he was up there. Why would anybody be up there? So they left him alone. They didn't even know to look for him.

Word of the Christian hermit got out and other persecuted Christians came to live on Mount Titano. Marinus founded a monastic community. It didn't have a name yet, it didn't show up on any maps. No one wanted to be too open about its existence.

But this land atop the mountain, though it had been uninhabited, belonged to someone. A woman named Felicissima of Rimini owned the land. According to the legend, she had a sick son, and heard about this amazing man Marinus. I don't know if she sent for him or brought her son to him, but one way or another, Marinus performed a miracle, healing the boy. In return, Felicissima bequeathed Mount Titano to Marinus and his community telling them to always remain united. Thus, according to the tale, the community became its own independent republic on September 3, 301 CE.

When Marinus died, which according to some legends is on September 3, 301 CE and according to others is a good fifty years later, he is said to have spoken his last words: "Relinquo vos liberos ab utroque homine." Pretty deep stuff, right?

Oh wait. Just in case your knowledge of Latin is, like that of present-day Erich, even less than your knowledge of geography, let me translate it for you. "I leave you free from both men."

The two men being alluded to are the Emperor of Rome and the Pope. This community, which is named San Marino in honor of this miracle worker Marinus, was free of control by both the empire and the church. According to legend.

In verifiable history, there is a history written in 511 that mentions a monk living on Mount Titano. A community grew up, some of it on the mountain top, the present day city of San Marino, and some of it at the base of the mountain, the present day city of Borgo Maggiore. Over the centuries, different people tried to conquer the community, but it's not so easy to conquer a mountain. Four more cities became part of San Marino in 1463, three as gifts of the pope and one by decision of the joining city. That's when San Marino reached its present size.

Alrica and I visited this oldest republic and it was old! The hotel in Borgo Maggiore where we stayed is built inside a building from the 1400s (though it has been updated to have plumbing and electricity.) That was at the base of the vertical slope of Mount Titano, though you've already ascended a lot of elevation even to reach this point.

The seal of San Marino shows three towers aloft over a long building with a clock tower in it and the word LIBERTAS engraved on it. That LIBERTAS building is in the Grand Plaza of Borgo Maggiore, just across from our hotel. Oh, and the clock tower, yeah, it works. It rings every fifteen minutes. The good news is its last ring of each night is at 11:45 PM and its first ring of the next day is at 7:00 AM. So you get seven hours and fifteen minutes to get in your eight hours without the soothing (sarcasm) chimes.

LIBERTAS (Look above the door, it does say that.)

I enjoyed the puzzle of the clock. You see the chimes are not your typical chimes and I wanted to figure out what was going on. For example, at 5:00, you would hear five low pitch chimes. At 7:15, you would hear one low pitch chime and one high pitch chime. At 11:45, there would be five low pitch chimes and three high pitch chimes. If you waited until 1:30 the next afternoon, you would hear one low pitch chime and two high pitch chimes. So what was going on with that?

For me it was mathematics (as are more things than I should admit to.) Go ahead and pause the blog reading and see if you can hypothesize what's going on. Then I will tell you my hypothesis.

CUE INTERMISSION MUSIC

My hypothesis: The high chimes are telling you how many quarter hours past the hour you are. On the hour there are no high chimes. Fifteen minutes later, there is one. Thirty minutes after the hour, there are two. And forty-five minutes after the hour, there are three. But what about the low chimes? Well, you know how a clock works modulo 12? (For those who aren't hip to my jargon, I mean how a clock doesn't go from 12 to 13, but from 12 back to 1 and then starts counting from there again.) The chimes were actually working modulo six. So at 6:45 you would get six low chimes and three high chimes. But then at 7:00, you wouldn't get seven low chimes, you would only get one. After 6, you jump back to 1, and start counting again from there.

But wait, there's more. I haven't told you about the three towers. On Mount Titano, the ancient city was protected by three towers that could see far and wide and shoot down on invaders. They are still there, as are a lot of other cool things. So the next morning, Alrica and I rode in the funivia. That's a funicular cable car that took us up to the old city of San Marino atop the mountain. From the top, one would imagine a spectacular view of the surrounding lands, maybe seeing far across the Adriatic Sea. I'm sure many visitors to San Marino get that exact experience. But for Alrica and I, it was a much different one. Here is my ironic picture of the panorama viewpoint entrance.

See how less than panoramic this is going to be?

That's right, it's fog! We were shrouded in thick, thick fog. Views from above were views of a white mist everywhere. But that didn't stop us from having a lot of fun. In some ways, it made the experience so much cooler (both in amazement and temperature.)

Basilica of the Saint

We walked to the Basilica of the Saint, a beautiful church some fascinating statuary inside. From there we headed to Guaita, the first tower. It's called the first tower because it was built before the other two, in the 11th century. (It was reinforced several times since then.) Gauita is more than just a tower, it is like a mini-castle. The people of San Marino could all huddle within its double walls during sieges of the town.

The First Tower (way more gothic in the fog, right?)

From there we walked the Passo Delle Streghe, a stone walkway that could be used by defensive warriors. But the fog was so thick here, we just had to have faith that this led somewhere. We could maybe see ten feet in front of us and had to hope we wouldn't just reach a precipice. We didn't. Instead we reached Cesta, the second tower. This one was built on the highest peak of Mount Titano in the late 11th century. This was the main guardhouse of San Marino.

The second tower, a little closer so you can see more through the fog

After visiting the first and second towers, naturally we headed for the third tower. Here is what's amazing. We reached this point where a crumbling staircase went up or the path continued forward. We knew we should be near the third tower, but we couldn't see it. I decided to go up the staircase, while Alrica took the path. We couldn't see one another, but we could hear each other. My staircase ran out of stairs and then I was just walking on the rocky ground, when all of a sudden, right there in front of me, not twenty feet away, was a tower! No, I'm not saying the tower moved or jumped in front of me. I'm saying I couldn't see it until I was almost on top of it. And this is a tower, not a tiny hut. The third tower, called Montale, was built in the late 13th century. Today, all that remains above ground is a single tower, but there were outer walls for this one too. And the only door that remains to enter the tower is, well, let me show you.

I'm almost there!

If you are ever in Rimini, Italy, then San Marino is very worth a visit. You can catch a bus from Rimini (near the train station) up to the old city (and back down.) Perhaps you will have the panoramic views we missed, and perhaps you will have the gothic thrill we experienced instead. (It feels so much more medieval in the fog.) Either way, you will get to see some old buildings, old weapons, cute shops, stone streets, and the world's oldest republic that many of your contemporaries (just like the Roman Empire of old) didn't even know existed.