Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'

Dear Reader,
It's late but I feel like sharing a short story about a time in Siena, Italy. Ahhhhhh, Siena. I love Siena. It's one of my favorite places in the whole world. It is perfectly preserved in the 13th century, a stunning achievement of red brick walls, palazos and its famous Piazza Il Campo with the magnificent tower, Torre Mangia.

I could talk about Siena for days; about the hot summer day I took a carafe of homemade wine from my pensione to the Il Campo and sat on the warm bricks for hours drinking in the sun, the wine and the atmosphere. There were young couples kissing and children playing, some in the fountain at the top, others eating gelato.

We watched the sun set one evening on the Il Campo as it turned bright red and orange to hot pink and purple always with the Torre Mangia in the foreground. When it was finally dark, the sky appeared a deep vermillion color and the cresent moon was directly over the tower surrounded by bright stars. It was magical.

But I'm going to tell an amuzing little story of a very different visit to Siena one November. It was my birthday and I wanted to spend it in Siena so I planned a south to north trip and near the end we went to Siena.

It has always rained on my birthday since memory but I was hoping this would break the rain curse. Alas, it was not to be. It poured. Water gushed down the Il Campo as we sat huddled underneath a canopy drinking cappucinis and trying to stay dry. The piazza was empty and the shops quiet.

I was coming down with a cold and my tonsils were hurting so it was not the birthday I had been dreaming of but we were in Siena and it had to be enjoyed. I recall having a wonderful hot lunch with a great steaming bowl of soup in a tiny osteria upstairs crowded with small tables and a dumbwaiter to send the food up from the kitchen. After a carafe of wine and lunch I was feeling much better. But it was a Monday (doomsday in Italy) when all sites are closed and because of the rain there was nothing to do. We have already climbed the Torre Mangia on our first visit, and on other visits toured the Parliament building, the Duomo and Duomo museum, visited St. Katherine's house, wandered aimlessly and even spent an afternoon at a great vinoteca. But it was too far to walk to the vinoteca in that rain with my throat so we decided to do a little shopping instead.

The first shop we entered was right on the Il Campo and had mostly knicknacks and t-shirts. Of course I greated the clerk and the owner with a Buongiorno. The owner was a round little man with a huge belly that jutted out over his pants and a round head with no visible neck. There were a few strands of dark hair combed across his scalp and he sported a small mustache. The clerk was a typical young guy with spiky hair.

It was decided that we would each buy t-shirts to commemorate our visit. Mine was easy to find but it is always difficult to find anything to fit my rather large husband, especially in Europe. Not only is he very tall but he is also well filled out, has a broad chest, unusually long arms and a long torso. So I did what I always do in that case, unfold a shirt and hold it up against him.

As I went about the store looking at shirts, the owner followed me around commenting in Italian. Everytime I asked him a question such as "do you have this in a double extra large?" he would reply "Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii". It was so funny the way he said it. He would appear to reach down towards his gut with his arms and then raise them slowly by his sides as his voice crescendoed at the moment his arms were fully raised. It sounded sort of like "Suuuu eeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaaaaaaa". It was all very dramatic.

After awhile it just got too funny. I'd ask him anything and he'd say Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii or sometimes Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, certo! I noticed his clerk in the background just doubled over in laughter trying to hold it in. John and I started to also have difficulty holding the laughter in as well so we decided to make a quick decision and get out of there.

That wasn't easy either. We bought our t-shirts while the man continued to praise our choices and say Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii and to show us other things always responding to my queries with Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. He even followed us out the door waving goodbye and saying ciao and arrivaderci as we ran across the Il Campo to get out of earshot.

The rain was no longer a bother and it was loud enough to dampen the sounds of our laughter as we continued to run as far out of sight as possible.

I'll always remember that birthday in Siena, though I have no idea which birthday it was, and that funny little man. He started one of our many travel traditions of often repeating a phrase or word that makes us laugh. Now whenever we are in Italy,  a few drinks is all it takes for us to start agreeing to everything with a nice bold baritone Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'! Or Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii' certo! This also helps relieve the tension from a hard day or when things haven't gone exactly the way we wanted.

They say "you have to be there" to get a story like this but I disagree. Just say it outloud. Take a deep breath and raise your arms in a great big Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii' next time you are asked a question and see if it doesn't bring on the laughter or at least a little joy.

Buonanotte