Livin' the dream.../nightmare?

How do you condense eighteen hours and twenty miles into a small-ish blog post? I don't know, but I will try.

On Friday, we had a day off school. We've already done all the must-see's, so a few of us decided to have a relaxing stroll around the Tuscan countryside. So we awoke at 5:30 AM and hopped on a bus to Pienza. The plan was to hike from Pienza to Monticchiello to Montepulciano - thoroughly planned by one of our friends and estimated to be about 6 miles. Doesn't sound too hard, right? We got off the bus in Pienza, which is famous for its pecorino (sheep cheese), so we explored the adorable little town and found a market at which we bought pears and cheese. Then we enjoyed said pears and cheese overlooking a breathtaking Tuscan landscape. So far, livin' the dream.

Pecorino!

BTW, I forgot my camera that day. Because I would forget my camera on the day featuring my favorite thing ever, the Tuscan countryside. Oh well. I just used my iPhone (which only lived for part of the journey...). After our little snack in Pienza, we hiked to Monticchiello. This part of the hike was glorious. We walked along a dirt road, enjoying the sunny day, and there weren't many hills. As soon as we got to the entrance of Monticchiello, I had an overwhelming deja-vu moment - probably because I really had deja vu'd this town with my family last time I came to Italy. It turns out the adorable, quaint little town I think about all the time when I remember my first trip to Italy is actually Monticchiello, and I just didn't pay attention enough to the names of towns when I was 12. All these memories came flooding back to me, and it made me miss my family! I could remember sitting by my mom on the steps to the church, and my dad laughing (probably politely, I now realize) at me sticking my finger in this little hole in the church (kind of the same concept of the Mouth of Truth - it was an inside joke?). I think Monticchiello wins the world's most picturesque town award.

Monticchiello

After we ate our panini, we were on the road again. Now, here's where I have to condense. We found the trail we were supposed to take, but it was marked "Privato," so we were too nervous about getting in trouble to take that one. We could either accept defeat and turn back to Pienza, or we could take this other road that we figured would eventually lead to Montepulciano. We chose the latter. At this point, we should've only had a few miles left if we could've taken the private road, but it turns out the public road is super long. And it turns into a highway, where cars go swooshing past you, and occasionally they honk. But it waits to turn into a highway until you've walked so many kilometers that you no longer have the option of turning back. It's so helpful when Italians honk at for walking on the side of the road. I feel like yelling, "BUILD A STINKIN' SIDEWALK IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO WALK HERE!" Sorry. This has happened to our group a lot in Italy. Anyway. I was having a good attitude, and it really wasn't hard to until we had been walking on the highway/jumping into the ditch on the side of the road as cars drove past and a praying mantis decided to pray on my ankle, which was not only freaky but kind of painful. And, for me, that's when the day really went south. See, it was pretty hot outside, and we'd walked much more than six miles at this point, and one of the girls in my group became extremely dehydrated, to the point where we couldn't walk very fast or else we would get separated. In the attempt to condense, I will just say that after walking for a very long time, we came to a sign saying "Montepulciano: 4km" and after 4 kilometers, we came to another sign saying "Montepulciano: 6km" and that was still a lie (Mom: "Scottish understatement much?" comes to mind). Eventually, we made it to Montepulciano, 10 minutes late for the last bus out of Montepulciano. Commence panic mode. All of our stressful-situation sides came through. It turns out distressed Anne gets very quiet and just mourns inside. It started getting dark, and eventually we made our way to the train station, which was closed (as was the tourist information center), and my phone died. We found a hotel, and decided before booking it we would call our host parents from a payphone to let them know we would not be home for our delicious dinner that night. Luckily for me and Katie, Paola and Marco came to our rescue! We really do have the best host parents ever. We said our goodbyes to the other girls (they decided to take a taxi home), went to the Conad, and feasted on a curb while we waited: bread, prosciutto, cheese, chocolate, and Diet Coke - the works. That night, we didn't set our alarms for the next day. I had the best night's sleep ever. One girl calculated it using Google Maps, and it turns out we walked about 20 miles, probably more when you add in exploring. It wasn't really that hard, it was just stressful - you know I'm prone to panicking!

Tuscany!

(I'm still glad I went - I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on this!)