O ur weekend started out with a journey to volterra on saturday. there, we enjoyed seeing the ruins of the roman amphitheater, and walking along the windy brick laden roads.

during our walk, we saw a nice fort-like structure, which seemed to be part of the cities wall. we headed in that direction, and through a nice park where we could see ourselves having a picnic had it been a nice day. when we reached the end of the park, we stood at the base of the fort, but there was no way in. our trip to the castle had me wondering if we should do some climbing, but instead we followed the base of the fort around to the other side. there has to be an entrance somewhere, right?

it turns out that this “fort” was the state prison. no doubt there is a way in – getting out might be the real challenge.

S unday, we forgot about the time change and woke up an hour after we had thought. Siena is once again nine hours ahead of California. We were thankful to sleep in, but quickly got ready and headed out for Pisa. After a two hour drive, we arrived to rain as we hit the streets. We were starving, and since it was Sunday, most places were closed. A little wandering led us to a small Osteria filled with Italians, so we decided to dine.

we should have eaten here instead

The Gnocci al roquefort was good. For our segundis, I ordered the Chingiale (wild boar) and Todd ordered Tonna (tuna). The second courses came. My Chingiale was sparse, and overwhelmed by olives. There must have been at least thirty olives to each bite of meat! I couldn’t eat it, and turned to Todd’s tuna. He let me have a bite, and I convinced him to trade me the very over cooked tuna for my plate of olives. I gobbled town the tuna telling myself, it will all be over soon, and Todd did his best to force down the chingiale dish. The kicker: an Italian man next to us ordered the same Chingiale dish I did, execept he was served big pieces of wild boar and only a few olives. We had been shorted!

on to the tower.

After “lunch” we strolled toward the piazza that has the famed tower. It was actually very cool to see something that large and solid be so oddly shaped. It kind of has a banana curve. We examined the tower and visited the Duomo (cathedral) and the circular bapistry and the old cemetery. We strolled with the tourists for a while and then hit the road for home.

We made it just in time to go over to our friend Alessandra’s house for a wonderul home cooked Italian spread. It definitely made up for the cruddy lunch.

from left to right: good, great, gone.

C how asked me to go on a food finding expedition for florentine (call it tuscan) fare. among the food on the list is an assortment of deserts, pastas, and meats. how could i say no.

alessandra, becky and i went to antica trattoria papei, a smallish restaurant in siena known for their meat. when the bistecca arrived, we knew we made the right choice.

for an upcoming chow story about tuscan food, becky, alessandra and i embarked on a food finding mission at city center.

the first day we were in italy, i asked our landlord to recommend a place for lunch. you know, a small dish of pasta, a panini, or maybe a salad. he replied, “well there’s a bar across the street from the mcdonalds, but it serves italian sandwiches, not american sandwiches, like mcdonalds.”

there’s a lot wrong with what andreas said, but who’s to argue. it’s been years since i’ve been to mcdonalds, so i figured what better time to go than when you’re running on empty and in another country. filet of fish, fries and a coke – sure i’ll take a large. done and delicious, thanks ronald.

After a relaxing Saturday, we were ready for an adventure, so on Sunday we headed out to an old walled city called Perugia. Perugia is located in Umbria, a small province East of Tuscany. The outskirts of Perugia are industrial, developed, and not very appealing, but once you reach the city center, it almost looks like the place time forgot. I say almost, because amidst the wonderful ancient arches, worn cobbled streets, and beautiful buildings are shops. Lots and lots of shops.

We had read that there was a park with old Roman ruins, but we walked around and around and could not find it. Finally, we found a cave like entrance on the side of a hill, and decided to just go inside and check it out.

As luck would have it, this was the “park”! We had stumbled up an old underground street system! It was amazing, arches and iron fixtures jetting out of the wall to hold torches. The streets wound around and around. In ancient times, they provided protection from war, as the people of Perugia could carry on with life, underground! We imagined the streets bustling with shops and people as we rounded the corner…

It turns out that Perugia was hosting the Umbrian Wine Festival in the very underground streets that we stumbled upon. We each paid 10, and tasted wines from all over Umbria. We had a perfect chance to practice our Italian and the wine makers got to practice their English :)

It was a very lucky and happy find.

the side door of the castle, which we wouldn’t see until crawling through a briar patch

T the same group of trekkers that we joined for our tour of Giardino dei Tarocchi invited on another “walk”. Ready for a little exercise, and a little tour, we accepted, and began our day early with a drive through the beautiful rolling Tuscan hills. We passed old villages that time forgot and about an hour or so later arrived at our destination.

The second we got out of the car, I realized I didn’t dress warm enough… but that problem was quickly solved by “walking”. I use the term loosely because, man, it was a HIKE. Along the way to the top of the mountain, we stopped at a couple of marble quarries, where once upon a time, they mined the rose colored marble for the floors Siena’s Duomo.

After we arrived at the top of the mountain, we enjoyed the views for a brief moment. I sat down on a rock, and noticed beside me a million lady bugs, all nestled in the cracks of the rocks. i’ve never seen so many! Our guide pointed out that we still had some hiking to do, and the Castle, our destination was another mountain away.

We walked back down and around the ridge, when we lost the trail. We ended up having to crawl (yes I said it CRAWL) up an animal path back to the main road. It was very entertaining… it would have been down right funny if the little bushes weren’t covered in mean prickly thorns!

Finally, we arrived at the abandonded Castle and had a nice picnic lunch, complete with some “Saint’s Wine” that our Italian friend’s father made. The castle is now abandoned but once housed the powerful Bishop who oversaw the silver mines don’t think we didn’t go there too. down below.

We had our picnic and wine then all laid around in the sun for a quick siesta. Re-energized, we began our quick “walk” up ANOTHER mountain to find the silver mines. By the time we had arrived it was late afternoon (we started climbing the first mountain about 9.30am) and the wind was whipping around something fierce. It didn’t stop us… no siree! We all got out our flashlights and headed into an old abandoned cave-like mine. It was very cool.

By 5pm we were all tuckered out and ready for the trip back home. Needless to say, Todd and I were in bed by 9.30!

T here are tons of torn up posters lining the walls of siena. the artist in me is drawn to the chaotic mix of color and type, and i love words in different languages. it’s the fonts. seeing these posters in italy strikes an accord with the film buff and cyclist in me too. while walking the tuscan streets, formed from dirt and cobbled marble, it’s hard to ignore images from “Ladri di biciclette.”

the film tells the story of a man who has been unemployed for months, and is finally given a job pasting up posters. the only catch is that he needs a bicycle to get from wall to wall, so his proud wife pawns the linens off of their own bed to purchase a bike. translated, the title “the bicycle thief” gives away what happens next. the poor man loses his new bicycle during the first day of work. without it, he and his son search the crowded streets of rome for the only thing that can give him back his dignity.

pasting up posters, and readying the ride

a tale of pride, enduring hardship and overcoming loss, this film is one of my favorites, and not just because of a bicycle. pick it up from your local video spot, netflix it, and share with a friend. note: it’s subtitled, but will not disappoint.

laundry at our flat.

it costs seven euro to wash and dry one load of laundry.

flowers in hand, mimosas given to ladies everywhere

We went out to dinner with our neighbors on Thursday night and all of the women at our table had these little yellow flowers with them. As soon as I joined the group and took my seat, the waiter rushed over and gave me some the flowers. One of the women told me that today was a holiday, although, none of us realized it because we still had to go to work.

Festa della Donna is a women’s day celebration. Authorities don’t agree how or why, but the custom started in Italy, some sources say in Rome in 1946, of men giving their wives, mothers, daughters, and other women friends sprigs of bright yellow Mimosa flowers on March 8. – It was a very nice surprise.

the gardens are very surreal, so after a few hours, and just before we began to question if we were having a bad acid trip, we picked up some paninis, and headed for the beach.

romans carve aqueducts (left), and nature carves hearts (right)

on our way, we found an ancient aqueduct, carved from a mountainside. to see first hand what the romans accomplished is amazing. without dynamite; only pick axes, and time, they carved with delicate precision. the aqueduct would divert water away from ships that would moor at the nearby harbor. now, all that remains of the harbor are piles of rubble, reavealing where the slips once were.

we made our way to the beach, where we finally ate our sandwiches and tossed a frisbee. we were playing with a guy who didn’t understand english at all, yet we had no trouble communicating, or having fun. it reminded me of how toddlers can just walk up to each another, not knowing the language, and still being able to connect.

after a little frisbee, lunch, and a getting our feet wet in the sea, we stopped by the small vacation town of orbotello. there, we checked out the antique flea market, window shopped and stopped for a gelato, where everyone generously offered a lick to share. no germophobes here!

the sun was about to set, and we were ready for the drive home. the people from becky’s work have been so kind, and have really helped us get aquainted with the area. we’ve been invited for another trek next week, and look forward to covering more uncommon ground with our warm hearted friends.

nothing get’s you ready for a drive on the autostrada like four beers. better make it eight.

On my way to work today, I saw this cute little older lady carrying bags up the long pathway to our flat.

“Buongiorno”

I said to her. she smiled, said it back and then started talking to me. To my surprise, I UNDERSTOOD her! We didn’t have a very deep conversation, in fact it consisted of, “oh, where are you from,” “what’s your name,” “are you here for work or school,” “how long are you here”…etc… but still! I was quite pleased with myself. I’ve only had 2 lessons. I do listen to Italian language lessons on my ipod during my walk to and from work, and try to study a bit every night, and boy, does it pay off! So our chat ended with, “Arivaderci” and off to work I went… strutting like a proud little peacock, smiling the whole way.

the scarecrow from the wizard of oz would have been as confused as becky and i when we first began driving the roads of italy. “should we go left to siena, or should we go right?” we’re learning that the saying, “all roads lead to rome,” holds quite a literal truth for most cities here.

d uring our stay in siena last year, we lived in the city center, and very close to the piazza del campo. unlike the hustle and bustle of san francisco and new york, free of trolleys, street cars and honking cabbies – del campo echoes with song, chatter, and people enjoying the public space until the wee hours of the morning. we were just far enough away, that the sounds of del camppo were dulled to an ambient roar.

our current flat is a long walk from the city center, and on the backside of a woodsey hill where a few other homes are nestled. without much traffic, be it by car, scooter or foot, it’s quiet here. our nights are silent and serene, with an occasional hoot from our neighborhood owl, as if to say – “it’s okay, i’m keeping a lookout.”

as dawn breaks, the silence of night is broken, and the birds begin to sing.

i don’t know much about birds, other than when it’s dead silent and they start chirping, it will wake you up. during our first week here, i found myself awake at 4:30 or 5 in the morning. refusing to stick things in my ears, i would lay there – either until i fell back asleep, or until my thoughts about the day carried me out of bed. usually, the latter.

so good morning, siena; buon giorno, world. i’ve got some coffee to brew and a bird to draw.

it hadn’t occurred to me, at all, that we were in prada land. i’m not big into labels, but i do appreciate fine, locally crafted goods. when i heard that one of becky’s co-worker’s was making his second trip to the factory this week, i figured it oughta be good.

i joined the road trip.

from siena, we drove for forty-five minutes through a few small towns, along the autostrata, and windy roads. during the ride, i imagined a structure as beautiful as the prada aoyama boutique in tokyo, and nestled in contrast to the green tuscan hills.

we approached a blinking light; the only landmark.

there, we turned right, and towards a seemingly out of place, and out of view industrial complex. we had arrived.

i guess in terms of factories, there are worse views, but i expected more than a tan metal structure. some glass, maybe a little concrete, and definitely some color. there’s lots of green from the hills to work with, but i digress. we got out of the car, walked through the gate, and got to shopping.

before i left siena, i told becky that i was gonna buy something completely rediculous; practical, yet gratuitous. prada hiking boots or running shoes came to mind, and so i explored. i was joking with becky, of course, but when i found the prada skis i couldn’t help but laugh. it wasn’t the fact that prada has their name on ski equipment. it was the fact that here i could buy skis, poles and boots, for less than the price of the jacket that i was eyeing. sigh, it was a nice jacket.

i kept looking.

through racks of denim, neckties, and shirts; shelves of handbags, wallets, and yesterday’s high fashion – there it was. a small, locally produced, fashionable and useful souvenir from our trip. the prada phone strap, complete with charm. in black with a brown heart (not pink), and a safe distance from the original price of 140.

done.

now get me outta there before i think twice about letting that jacket go.

H ave you ever imagined what it would be like to walk a tight rope with an ipod booming with cars zooming along side you? Well folks, that’s my walk to work. There’s nothing like exhaust fumes and adrenaline to get you through the day. I just never knew how much I appreciated sidewalks.

This picture actually isn’t the most narrow part. Poor Todd didn’t want to stop and take a picture with all the cars racing by. We should wear a crossing guard vests, especially at night!

Our first road trip was a success with no crazy events and we didn’t get lost once! I was scared to get on the Autostrada, but as it turns out (some may imagine) I have no issues with driving like a bat out of hell with a bit of disregard for the posted law.

After our trip we came home for lunch – Big surprise I made hamburgers!

Finding places for our new plants, candles and putting our bed pad over our mattress is how we spent the rest of Sunday. The beds in Europe are terribly hard. You wake up feeling like a twisted pile of bones. Hopefully our bed pad helps!

So Todd got to blogging and I got to relax. Now we are sipping wine, enjoying the evening and awaiting dinner time.

here’s a typical view of becky while we were in boston. at foureen below with wind chill, this was the coldest becky’s ever been. in fact, before we left the bay, she freaked out, mugged an eskimo, and scored herself a wintery parka.

please note: no eskimos were harmed in the making of this post. tutqiksuq!

I didn’t think work would have had a car prepared for me so soon- but they did. I didn’t really know how to get home from work in car. I only knew how to get back and forth walking. Two friends at work volunteered to help me try to find my way home. (you can’t get there driving the same way you would walking because the path is too small for a car). We drove around for and hour and a half. Went down dirt roads we weren’t supposed to and got stuck in very small alleys that required about 20 minutes of maneuvering to get back out of. All in all it was a bust. The car ended up being driven back to work and a co-worker drove me home.

The next day I had to call the landlord to find the proper way. He told me the very unintuitive way home (we live down a dirt road that isn’t on any maps). A co-worker went with me to make sure it was the right way and it was. And I finally found my way home.

The checker said something to us we didn’t understand…. then he held up grocery bags and said “Quattro?”. Todd said, “si” and I said, “I don’t know how every many it takes”. As it turns out you have to buy grocery bags, that’s why he was asking. So we got 4 bags.

Then it was time to pay for produce. He picked up our pear and said to me, “Kaiser”. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Is he German?” So I went back to where we got the pear and found number on the sign. I came back and said “14” then drew a one and a four in the palm of my hand. He just kept saying, “Kaiser”. Then with a frantic grin, he motioned for me to follow him. He took me and Todd back to produce and showed us there is this little weighing machine that you put that number 14 into and it prints a sticker to tell you how much your produce costs. He printed our sticker and another lesson was learned. The pear was a Kaiser pear, by the way.

Besides Todd’s barley coffee mishap, we made some other interesting purchases. When we arrived home, we realized we had bought:

• Laundry softener instead of Laundry soap
• Barley tea instead of coffee
• Liquid dishsoap instead of the dishwasher detergent

the dishsoap, by the way, made a lovely rabid, foaming at the mouth, dishwasher in our kitchen – a good tip that we bought the wrong soap.

Our second trip to the store was yesterday. This time we brought and used our little Italian language book.

once the moka quieted down, i poured myself a cup and took a sip. this can’t be right, i thought. did i put too much in? did i burn it? why does it taste like i’m eating burned dirt? becky woke up, and came into the living room.

this coffee is awful, want a cup?

“no thanks,” she replied, “i’ll have some at work.”

for two days, i’d sat there, sipping my mud, struggling to get through each cup. “it’s okay,” i thought, “at least it will wake me up.” but it never woke me up. i tried brewing it differently. i’d brew it weaker, stronger, and even with different water. i criticized siena for it’s poor taste in coffee, and protested the idea of having to go to a bar for a decent cup of espresso. i was longing for a cup of capricorn’s moka java when it dawned on me.

this is not coffee.

i went back to the package and translated:

our toasted barley is roasted on wood coals using traditional methods passed on from generation to generation. it makes a light and delicious natural drink containing no stimulants, to be enjoyed by both adults and children, and particularly by those involved in sports. add milk to it and you will get a delicious drink called “cappucino senesino”

this mishap is right up there with the first time i tried kombucha, and chugged it like it was a cold; refreshing iced tea. moral: beware the temptation of appealing packaging, sometimes it has a bad aftertaste.

well, we don’t roll like that. i’m a fiend for lightweight keychains. i don’t like to carry a lot of stuff with me, and i don’t like the added bulge of keys. a hardware shop is a short walk from our flat, and so off i went. just up and over the hill, about fifty meters and i’m there.

the shop is small and cluttered; charming in my book. a man greeted me, “sera”. it was about four o’clock in the afternoon. “sera,” i replied, and paused. how the hell am i gonna ask for a keyring? i sifted through my pocket, and began, “vorrei due…”

i held up a key and formed a ring with my fingers.

“ah, uno anello chiave.” the man smiled, and signaled to follow him. through a maze of racks and shelves and benches, he led me to a chest where he opened four or five draws. there, as vanna white would, he presented an assortment of keyrings large and small.

“perfecto! due piccolo.”

it may not have been perfect italian, but it got the job done. two small keyrings, in the pocket. now, for adapters.

our flat has two types of electrical outlets. i’m calling them little ones and big ones, but i’m sure there’s a right name for each. since we brought an adapter and a standard american surge strip with us, we were off to a good start. however, with phone chargers, cameras and computers and the lot, a couple extra adapters are good thing to have around. i looked around the hardware store for an outlet, but none were found. instead,

i stood there, with a fist and two fingers stabbing madly at the air.

“una adattatore!” the man scurried over to another part of the store and held up a few examples. the smile on his face said it all – this was the most fun he’d had all week. after all, how often do you get to play charades at work?