Siena, Italy

Today.  Siena.  I spent the whole day here and it was fun to see, but I don’t think I’ll come back.  I don’t think I did as much walking today as I did in Vienna, but I feel exhausted.  I came off the train and decided against buying a map.  Instead, I picked a direction (I chose the left) and started walking.  An American guy from my train (I knew he was American because I saw him reading a Rick Steves guidebook) asked me which direction town center was and I told him I wasn’t sure and informed him of my plan.  He said it was brave of me and wished me luck.  His tone was one of concern, not awe.

I took a picture of the town map at the train station and used that to get my foot in the right direction and then I just took it from there.  Eventually, I found my way.  I stopped at a fountain outside some Etruscan walls to finish writing in my journal.  While doing so, an older Italian man sat on my bench and started talking to me.  I didn’t understand anything but I got the gist that he was commenting on my journal writing and asked if I was writing about Siena.  He then asked if I was a student and I shook my head.  Am I a tourist?  Si (yes).  I told him, “Non parlo Italiano,” and that seemed to get him excited.  He spoke to me in Italian the entire time, slowly.  I wished so much to understand him.  I pointed in the direction that I thought was the town center and asked, “Il Campo?”  He responded affirmatively and said some more things in Italian.  I could only understand a few words like “San Domenico” and “Duomo,” which are all sites of Siena.  Then he offered to walk me there and show me the way.  I figured this out when he got up with his bag and gestured in that direction.  We walked by the wall and he pointed at it saying, “Blah-blah-blah Panoramica,” which I figured to mean panoramic views (I learned I was right when I later went behind the walls), then he pointed left at the stadio where football (soccer) games were played.  Then San Domenico was standing in front of us.  He pointed to the left towards a street and said Il Campo was that way and I’d be able to follow it by looking for the signs.  I was able to figure all this out!  It was wonderful and fun to be able to communicate like this through hand gestures and deciphering Italian words into their English counterparts.  The only thing he tried to tell me which I absolutely could not understand was something about a festival that took place in Siena twice a year on July 2 and August 16.  Later, as I window-shopped, a smile slowly spread across my face as the light turned on in my head.  I saw several images of a horse race with Il Campo as the backdrop.  The Palio (the medieval horse race) is a popular event in Siena and I would be missing it both times this summer.  Bummer.  The old Italian man left me on my own and told me to have fun.  Then he took off and I thanked him.  Although I’m sure I could have figured out the roads to Siena on my own, I was glad to have his help because it gave me the chance to interact with an Italian and to overcome the language barrier.  He was an extreme sweetheart.

On the train back to Florence, I watched the sun set over the Tuscan countryside, like you see those people do in the movies: head leaning against the glass looking at nothing in particular in complete silence while your mind races with thoughts of everything and nothing.  Tonight I thought how amazing everything is at peace when the warm rays fall over the gentle hills, the vineyards, the sunflower fields, the villas.  The towns seem to say, “Shush,” one last time before retiring behind their doors to ready for the next day.