Day 12

Last night I took advantage of the small kitchen that we have available to us and made dinner from local pasta with marinara sauce and local olives (that I had to pit!), and topped with regional cheese. I accompanied it with some freshly-baked Italian bread. The sauce was from a jar, but I worked on it a bit with some locally-produced wine. Turned out to be a pretty nice meal.

Last night was also when I learned what it’s like to be one of three sisters. The mother of our hostess, who you may recall had the moral objection to us that was remedied by us actually being “related,” apparently thinks we are all sisters now. I have no idea, and moreover I don’t want to know. She rattles off in Italian, expecting that the more and the faster she talks, the better I can understand a language that I only know a few words of and some basic concepts at best.

Tonight will be our last night at the vineyard; tomorrow we will be on our way to Florence to pick up our fourth traveling companion who is flying in to meet us for the latter half of our trip. She has even been nice enough to bring my Kindle charger along for the ride, so no more strange charging contortions. That is one example of when less is definitely NOT more–it’s less, and a huge inconvenience to boot.

She is flying out today, and we will meet her in the Florence airport tomorrow.

It was 19 degrees Celsius (66.2F) when I woke up this morning. Chilly!
I actually got to use the legs for my shorts today. Zipped them on this morning. Also, I got to wear my windbreaker. Not really important news.

Yesterday, it was a beautiful 22C (71.6F). It has pretty much stayed like that in the days that we have been here.

We trained to Siena today, then bused to Il Campo, which all buses go to, apparently, and isn’t really even a square at all. More like a bowed-out triangle-ish sort of thing. I’m sitting in the shadow of a giant bell tower drinking 200ml of pear juice and eating my tomato sandwich.

Someone just lit up next to me. If I wanted to smoke, I’d go buy a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a life-insurance policy.

Well, I went to throw away my refuse, and it turns out that Comune di Siena Municipal Police Regulation Title I Art. 5 states: “It is strictly forbidden to play running games or with balls, frisbees or other similar games. It is forbidden to lie down, to be dressed in swimwear or bare-chested, to leave litter on the ground, to eat sitting on the ground, or to chain vehicles to columns, railings and/or other fixed objects.”

While standing around an open Wi-Fi hotspot, I saw a guy in a Superman shirt ride up on a bike with a crate. He set the crate down, and parked the bike up an alley. Over the next 30 minutes, he transformed into a golden Roman soldier mime/statue. It was so neat to see the transformation from start to finish. When I finishes, on my way by, I dropped a €1 coin in his basket. The smile that came across his face transcended all language barriers, and was worth so much more.

I know it’s vacationous blasphemy, but I’ll be glad to be home. Italy is gorgeous, the food is great, and the people are nice. There are things that I miss… like, oh, unlimited data on my cell phone plan. I miss my own bed and shower. Oh well. All too soon my little sojourn will be over and it will be back to the daily grind.

We stopped at a little town before our stop and hiked the 2.7km one way to Monteriggioni, an old castle where they were having a medieval festival. The festival didn’t start for another 3.5 hours, so we walked on back, stopped by the grocery store to get some pesto sauce for tonight, and barely caught the 12-minute late train from a little stop that looks closed. Only one train runs through: the Siena/Empoli line, and there is one each direction every hour. They have two bells, and one rings depending on which direction the train is going.

It’s back to the room for pesto pasta and our last night in Tuscany.

Please, I’m begging you… don’t tell anybody about my tomato sandwich. Fines for violation range from €50 to €300.

Life Lessons:
1) You know you are in for a ride when the bus driver himself is holding on to the dashboard in turns.
2) The newer the train, the more zealous the ticket-checkers.