"I have no talent, I'm just passionately curious" - Einstein
Today we visited Siena. A tasteful town that lies and hour and a half west of Cortona. We had no trouble finding the town, but parking was another story. My dad and Charlie dropped all of us off by the side of the road saying, "Just a minute! We have to find parking." So we waited, and waited. We entertained ourselves by playing the category game (where you pick a category and go through the alphabet and try to come up with names within the category starting with the corresponding letter of the alphabet). The Google Maps machine ghosted by us on its never-ending quest of world documentation. I waved, but the others were too stroked out they simply reposed on the curb like zombies at a vegetarian potluck. Finally, after 45 minutes of waiting in the hot Tuscan sun, Charlies white tuft of hair was seen glistening as he labored up the steep Italian cobblestones. But he was alone. He told us Lee had split off to find parking in some other section of the city. I said, "Knowing him, he's already found a restaurant and is halfway through his second beer." So we began walking to the main square.
Once we got there, I spotted my dad sitting at a table sipping a beer and looking as cool as a cucumber. He greeted us as we sat down and ordered drinks. I looked out into the square that was lined with red-bricked buildings separated by cobblestone walkways which fed the open space with a steady stream of sightseers and sleepy souls. We ate our assigned appetizers ardently assuming that afterwards we'd ascertain some awesome-tasting entrees. Which we did. But as the conversation waned my appetite for gelato grew. So Cam and I quickly made our way from the restaurant to the parlor where we ate scoops of scrumptious frozen treats and talked to tribes of titillatingly tantalizing head-turners. But soon it was time to go, so we met up with the rents and left Siena as we found it: A somber, sunbaked city swirling with smiling strumpets and series of century-old stringent stores full of lip-smacking sweets.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
7-13-09
This is my last post for awhile as I am traveling to Shasta with my family for the week. I will be busy wakeboarding and basking in the glory of the summer months and will have no time to update this tell-all tale. So now you know.
My mom and sister (Erica) arrived by train at Cortona. "Finally!" said my mom as she embraced my dad and me, "you wouldn't believe the train system here." And right she was. Trying to navigate a metro system is hard enough when the signs are in English! And next to impossible when they are in Italian or German. However, with a little help from the natives (mainly finger pointing and short phrases spoken in broken English) they made it. But before they arrived...
My dad and I went for a drive on the country roads that surround the sleepy Tuscan town. We stopped at a restaurant which had been converted from a mansion-villa. It was so big we spent 20 minutes searching for someone to sell us a couple cokes. Once we did, we sat on the portico overlooking the valley and lake. We sat and sipped as an old man watched us from a few tables away. He was nicely dressed in a summer suit and panama hat. Just a curious old Italian man living out the last days of his life watching strange tourists sip Coca-Cola and speak funny languages. We asked him if he spoke English, and he replied by shaking his finger and saying, "No No," urging us to continue our conversation as if he wasn't there. So we did, and left shortly after finishing our sodas.
That night we met with Margie, Gunner, Julie and Tom (friends of Charlie and Victoria). Margie is the life of any party, she's loud and vivacious, the instant friend. Gunner is Margie's husband. He is a large German purebred who loves to cook and take pictures. Tom is Gunner's kitchen partner, meaning they cook together in the kitchen. Tom loves European history and has a sharp pallet for wine. Julie - Tom's wife - is somewhat reserved and soft spoken, but loves to laugh. Thankfully these four personalities have opened their villa for Cameron and I. Otherwise, we'd be stuck with sharing a couch - which would get old quickly. And the bonus is that we're staying with two gourmet chefs! How's that for a touche?
When evening rolled around, Cam, Charlie and I we went out for drinks at a bar in town. I had a Screwdriver (Orange juice/Vodka - a classic, I found you drink many of them in college) and Cam had a Sidecar (1 part Brandy, 1 part Cointreau, 1 part lemon juice - I was suprised he didn't just order "One Appletini please" and when told it's 6 euros say, "Oh my! I'll have to get my checkbook out of my man purse! Just one moment honey!" with a wink and slap of the butt.) I sat listening to Charlie and Cam bicker about this and that, slowly getting drunk. Charlie left after awhile to find the grown ups, so Cam and I upped the ante. We ordered two Absinthe (for those who've never had Absinthe, it is a neon green drink that needs to be sterilized by burning sugar cubes before being poured over ice. It is said to have psychedelic effects, but all I got was some heightened color which could have been due to the alcohol. Did I mention it tastes like black licorice?)
After the Absinthe we were both in the mood to find girls. We found a couple sitting on the church steps in the main square. One spoke awesome English because it was her first language. The other spoke none. We sat on the steps talking until 1am, and just as I was about to make the move and invite my girl back with me she said, "Oops! Sorry it's late, we have to go." Even Italian girls have curfews, so we headed back to the villa for some sleep.
Now before we left for the bars, Gunner pulled us aside and said, "Listen, we don't care what time you get back, just make sure to keep quite when going to your room." How hard could it be, right? Wrong. There is nothing harder to do than sneak into a century old villa drunk on Absinthe. If you ever did it, I applaud you because Cam and I failed. We were giggling and bumping into things, opening doors and eating bread, I was amazed nobody woke up. We miraculously found our beds on the fourth floor and passed out. I realized after piecing my night together - lots of Absinthe = hazy, hazy, hazy night. Just a warning.
My mom and sister (Erica) arrived by train at Cortona. "Finally!" said my mom as she embraced my dad and me, "you wouldn't believe the train system here." And right she was. Trying to navigate a metro system is hard enough when the signs are in English! And next to impossible when they are in Italian or German. However, with a little help from the natives (mainly finger pointing and short phrases spoken in broken English) they made it. But before they arrived...
My dad and I went for a drive on the country roads that surround the sleepy Tuscan town. We stopped at a restaurant which had been converted from a mansion-villa. It was so big we spent 20 minutes searching for someone to sell us a couple cokes. Once we did, we sat on the portico overlooking the valley and lake. We sat and sipped as an old man watched us from a few tables away. He was nicely dressed in a summer suit and panama hat. Just a curious old Italian man living out the last days of his life watching strange tourists sip Coca-Cola and speak funny languages. We asked him if he spoke English, and he replied by shaking his finger and saying, "No No," urging us to continue our conversation as if he wasn't there. So we did, and left shortly after finishing our sodas.
That night we met with Margie, Gunner, Julie and Tom (friends of Charlie and Victoria). Margie is the life of any party, she's loud and vivacious, the instant friend. Gunner is Margie's husband. He is a large German purebred who loves to cook and take pictures. Tom is Gunner's kitchen partner, meaning they cook together in the kitchen. Tom loves European history and has a sharp pallet for wine. Julie - Tom's wife - is somewhat reserved and soft spoken, but loves to laugh. Thankfully these four personalities have opened their villa for Cameron and I. Otherwise, we'd be stuck with sharing a couch - which would get old quickly. And the bonus is that we're staying with two gourmet chefs! How's that for a touche?
When evening rolled around, Cam, Charlie and I we went out for drinks at a bar in town. I had a Screwdriver (Orange juice/Vodka - a classic, I found you drink many of them in college) and Cam had a Sidecar (1 part Brandy, 1 part Cointreau, 1 part lemon juice - I was suprised he didn't just order "One Appletini please" and when told it's 6 euros say, "Oh my! I'll have to get my checkbook out of my man purse! Just one moment honey!" with a wink and slap of the butt.) I sat listening to Charlie and Cam bicker about this and that, slowly getting drunk. Charlie left after awhile to find the grown ups, so Cam and I upped the ante. We ordered two Absinthe (for those who've never had Absinthe, it is a neon green drink that needs to be sterilized by burning sugar cubes before being poured over ice. It is said to have psychedelic effects, but all I got was some heightened color which could have been due to the alcohol. Did I mention it tastes like black licorice?)
After the Absinthe we were both in the mood to find girls. We found a couple sitting on the church steps in the main square. One spoke awesome English because it was her first language. The other spoke none. We sat on the steps talking until 1am, and just as I was about to make the move and invite my girl back with me she said, "Oops! Sorry it's late, we have to go." Even Italian girls have curfews, so we headed back to the villa for some sleep.
Now before we left for the bars, Gunner pulled us aside and said, "Listen, we don't care what time you get back, just make sure to keep quite when going to your room." How hard could it be, right? Wrong. There is nothing harder to do than sneak into a century old villa drunk on Absinthe. If you ever did it, I applaud you because Cam and I failed. We were giggling and bumping into things, opening doors and eating bread, I was amazed nobody woke up. We miraculously found our beds on the fourth floor and passed out. I realized after piecing my night together - lots of Absinthe = hazy, hazy, hazy night. Just a warning.
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