Finally Under the Tuscan Sun!

Before moving to Italy, I based my life decisions on the movie "Under the Tuscan Sun."  I figured that I'd befriend a couple of Polish immigrants, pick olives and drink a lot of wine.  Also, that I'd become that quirky American who wears fabulous dresses and gains the respect of her town for her sticktoitiveness (no, no, that's a real word.  Don't worry, I looked it up).  Alas, many of the plot details from that movie, including meeting a random Italian and having a wild night of passion (I mean, Tom probably wouldn't be so down on that plan), haven't happened.  No Polish fan club.  No cheering crowds of Italians, my co-workers aside, who appreciate my new-found ability to order half a kilo of chicken.  Come on!

But I digress... this weekend, we piled into our friend's, Molly and Deacon, Alfa Romeo and charged nobly onwards to Toscana!  The four hour drive north broken up with road trip games and conversations about just how many bottles of wine we'd be returning with.  Around 8pm, we arrived in Siena at the Villa Elda where we were staying.  We strolled the city streets, those old, rugged walls lined with horse tethers and decorative flags, until we reached Il Biondo, a fairly typical tourist trap that our front desk clerk had recommended.  Ok, so our first night's meal was a bit of a let-down.  But!  We finally ate some of the food that you think of back in the US as "Italian."  Ravioli?  Haven't really had it in Italy before.  Lasagna?  Haven't really had it in Italy before.  Tuscany, that's where they hide all of the Italian food that you know.  My ravioli had this creamy sauce, likely laced with crack, that I was obliged to practically lick from the plate.  It's shocking that our waiter judged us... wish I could put my finger on why...  weird....



Siena, like Rome, Venice and Sorrento in the summer, is not quite as Italian as we were thinking it would be.  Around nearly every corner you could hear that obviously American accent of some college student from Texas, their twang ringing in your ears.  In Naples, we make up about 50% of the Americans in our neighborhood.  The sight of my blonde hair is enough to have the waiters drawing straws for who has to put up with the Americans.  Or, when we went to get burgers the other night and every member of the waitstaff gathered around to listen to us try to order in Italian, snickering ever so quietly as we stumbled.  But Siena, they are ready for tourists.  Even on Sunday, the day when everything is normally buttoned up tightly, Siena was bustling. 

Based on the ridiculously high reviews on TripAdvisor, we booked a Chianti tour with a driver/tour guide for Saturday.  Through winding roads and scenic fields of wheat and wine, learning that Chianti Classico is a region and more destinguished than those little rafia wrapped grocery store wine in the US would lead you to believe.  Somewhere along the way, 2 cases of wine ended up in the back of the tour van.  Our tourguide was a little disinterested in our stories and would space out when he wasn't talking, but we hung out with real Canadians (so funny to hear them talking "aboot" things.  Oh Canada, you guys are adorable!) and a super nice couple from Raleigh.  It was great to have a bunch of cool people packed into our van for hours on end!

As previously mentioned, we spent Sunday shopping and shopping and shopping.  From my adorable yachting inspired wedges to the incredibly necessary olive-wood box with a built in cheese grater, I picked up all sorts of objects that Tom judging lugged around all day.  "Seriously, Lynne.  No more ceramics.  I can't look at another plate and still look interested."  "Seriously, Lynne, basta."  "Honey, I'm going to go get drunk."  Like our trip back from Cinque Terre, we stopped in to the town of Orvieto on the way back, the home of Pinochio.  He is super terrifying and would have filled my dreams with nightmares, so there are no pictures of that little devil.  BUT!  Orvieto and Siena both have green and white striped churches with amazingly intricate facades, so there are about 1,000 pictures of them on my computer.

This weekend, it's the symphony on the cliffs of Ravello on the Amalfi Coast.  I've been looking forward to this since we got here, so I'll be sure to let all y'all know how it is!

Ciao, Tutti!
Lynne
xoxo