Siena.

Siena is a controlled city. The streets wander carefully, they do not follow the mindless paths of Rome's roads. The madness of Rome, the unrestraint that pervades the air and allows couples to believe that no is watching is lost in the winds of the mountains. There are many tunnels here, winding their way down the hills.

Mountains.

The stale Roman air can be escaped in the mountains where the humidity is less. Here the streets wind up and down hills, through wandering breezes.

Rain.

It began to rain while we sat on the train in our shorts and t-shirts. No one had brought anything more than a light cardigan and most of us did not even have that. The rain in Italy is seldom, grand, and short. Because of its brevity, the Italians are willing to wait it out. Unlike Seattle, when it rains the streets clear out. By the time we reached the hotel the rain had stopped and the streets were again clean.

The Leather Market.

Close your eyes and allow yourself to be led through Florence. You might as well plug your ears as well, for hearing will only distract you from the true sense that you need to experience the city. The odors will tell you all that you need. The first thing you will probably recognize is the thick, musky odor of leather. You are now in the leather market. You will feel like you are inhaling a cloud of sawdust, the smell of leather is so strong. Walk further and you will pass into the fog of freshly baked bread, the sugary tingle of gelato stands and pastries. Then you will pass into the sharp, rank smell of the Arno and it washes away all else.

Lurking Beasts.

If one looks down upon the Arno from the central bridge, one can see a sight that will renew one's fear of the murky waters of rivers. Black catfish, up to five feet long, compete with suitcase sized round-fish. They slip along the surface devouring bread dropped by the tourists above. What happens when one of the tourists drop?

Romans Go to Sea.

When the Romans go to the beach, they go in masses. They smash themselves into the train. Perhaps you will be standing in a nearly empty train car and you will think, this is well, I shall have a pleasant, unconfined journey to the beach. You shall be wrong though. For soon an Italian mother will enter with her four sons who plop themselves down on the floor of the car. Then two aloof men arrive. Then an amorous couple struggle to enter as they continue to make-out. Soon the train is full, completely and utterly full. You might try to move, adjust your arm, but that would be impossible. Close the doors you think, but it does not matter because there is no room left, already limbs are hanging out the open door. But yet again you are wrong because now seven elderly women, done-up in Roman fashion are pushing themselves into the train. Unlike Americans, Italians do not seem to feel uncomfortable sharing intimate personal space. To understand the time after the doors closed, read the last few cantos of "Inferno".

Odysseus Returned

Treading water, fighting the waves in the wine-dark Mediterranean Sea, how can one not imagine oneself to be the latest reincarnation of Odysseus.