May 2, 2001
Terri Does Siena in the Driver's Seat

We were so excited about going to Siena, a miniature Florence. A medieval town, completely walled, great museums, restaurants and shopping. And the best part was that it was only about 15 miles from our villa. We gathered up our things and started the take-off check: keys, check; passport, check; map, check; lire, check; phrase book, check. There, we were ready. Out the big castle door, into the Tuscan sunshine, duck down and crawl into the little Daewoo. Terri is our driver today. Shela is the navigator. But first, Shela has to give Terri a little lesson on driving a stick shift...a brief lesson on the clutch and gears. "Piece of cake" Terri says. WRONG.

She starts the car and the adventure is about to begin. After stalling it several times, and after more than 5 times trying to get it in reverse, we peeled out of the pebbled driveway, throwing stones and gravel behind us every which way. We left a big cloud of dirt in our wake. We just knew Filippe was probably in his office and saw what we did to his driveway, and we knew he was shaking his head with worry at these three crazy American women drivers.

We drive down the little dirt road and onto the main road to Monteroni d'Arbia. We managed to maneuver the narrow street through town and head off towards Siena. I'm in the back seat, and I can't help but hear the sickening whir of the engine as we are leaving the town limits and now traveling about 50 miles per hour. "Uh, hey Terri! I call out from the back seat, "What gear are we in? 2nd? Well, honey, that's the wrong one, better put this puppy in 3rd before we blow something up, ok?" So went the ride. Shela in the front seat reading the map and the road signs, and me in the back seat yelling either "2nd! 3rd! or 4th gear, now Terri!"

Then we drive through the walled entryway, into the city of Siena. So many people! So many sights! We were in awe. "This is just like those movies we've seen!" we all shout. The streets are literally crawling with people and motorbikes and Fiats and all on brick streets no wider than an arms length! This is madness but exhilarating at the same time! We are laughing our asses off out of nervousness and sheer joy at our good fortune to be in this wonderful city.

"Watch out for those people walking! Don't run over that Vespa! Look out! Look out!" My jaws are clenched in a perpetual scared smile, my knuckles are white with fright, holding on tightly to the hand rest on the door, my foot slamming my imaginary brake pedal.

Shela's jaw has dropped, her eyes are wide with amazement at the people and the traffic, and the map is crunched up in her left hand, her right hand is clutched over her heart, either in prayer or the anticipation of an oncoming heart attack because she's so nervous. I didn't know which.

And Terri, well Terri is window shopping from the driver's seat! "Oh look at that beautiful lingerie shop, she says. And over there, look at that gorgeous handbag in that window! And those shoes! Would you look at those shoes! Right there, the red ones with the high heel! I just have to buy those!"

"Oh my God, Terri! Would you keep your eyes on the road so we don't run over anybody, Please!" Shela and I screamed in unison. "Let's just park the car...Quick! Just find a parking place, will ya!"

The navigator saw a blue parking sign. "Quick, hang a left here!" she says. Terri quickly takes the left turn, and we start looking for a parking lot, a parking garage, some where we can finagle our car. Or rather, Shela and I were looking. Terri was still busy window shopping. As we were riding down this little narrow street, looking for another blue parking sign, we think out loud that this street is particularly narrow, and look at all these cars coming at us, how will we ever have enough room to pass them? Then we noticed many, many people stopping and pointing at us, waving their arms frantically. We hear them shouting what sounded like "Una sinsa! Una sinsa!" We are laughing out loud, wondering what the hell they are saying. "Phrase book! phrase book!" I yell. "Who's got the phrase book?" I find the it in the back seat, and I quickly leaf through the pages, una...una...una sinsa..."OH SHIT! It means 'one way'. Son-of-a-bitch! It's a one way street! Turn around Terri, turn around, get outta here, it's a one way street for Pete's sake."

Well, just let me say, there was no turning around...even in that teeny, tiny Daewoo. So, Terri starts grinding gears, looking for reverse, finally she works the clutch, Shela works the shift, and finally, they get it in reverse and we back out of the street, about 10 blocks worth of backing up and round the corner. "Whew!" we say, laughing so hard, and all the while we're very proud of Terri for keeping calm and not running over anyone or anything while she was in reverse for 10 blocks.

Once we stopped laughing, an old man approached the car and started to give us directions to the parking garage. A younger man on a bicycle was passing by and heard him. He jumped off his bike and right into the conversation arguing with the old man about the best way to find the parking lot. Hands were flying, their voices got louder and louder as they argued with each other. We just started laughing again and tried to follow the instructions they were giving us in broken English.

About 15 minutes later we finally parked the car in a tiny little spot on a tiny little side street we found accidentally. Needless to say, it was the first and last time Terri drove in Italy.

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