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I’ve been all over Italy. I’ve done archaeology in Puglia and Sardinia, and have written about travel in Italy for years.

But I’ve never been to Pistoia.

Pistoia is in Tuscany. It’s between Florence and the spa town of Montecatini Terme. If the name Pistoia sounds a little like “pistol” it’s because Pistoia was manufacturing them in the 16th century and the name stuck.

But Pistoia has another secret. In a shed near the central train station are a whole bunch of historic trains. Every once in a while they take them out and let them loose. Yesterday was the day. The smoke of steam engines filled the air. Cameras clicked. People pointed. Old folks explained how they sat on wooden seats in the olden days and got to smoke like chimneys and nobody cared.

Pistoia puts on a famous blues festival called, oddly enough, Pistoia Blues.

Pistoia has a very nice medieval center as well.

That’s the thing. Tourists go to Rome, Florence, Venice, and maybe the Cinque Terre. Then they stop. But every decent sized town in Italy has a story and good things to eat. If you’ve been to the big three, why not look to the countryside outside a city that confounds your friends when you tell them you stayed nearby?

For example, you have good views of Pistoia at the Casa Rosa over there on the left. In fact, on clear days you can see Florence. You probably can’t see the people crammed into the streets or waiting for their turn to enter the Palazzo Vecchio, which is probably a good thing.

Because you’ve got Pistoia, and it’s loaded.