Memory Lane

Pienza looks just as we left it a little over a year ago. I was here, you know, in another lifetime. In 2009 it was a trip of great proportions in many ways. Travelling with a significant other is usually never easy, plus I hadn't been back to Europe since I was in 8th grade. I had done all the research in the world to make the trip perfect. And it paid off.
Sitting in the same restauruant as we visited in 2009 is like watching the same movie again except one of the lead actors is missing. Going to a place in Italy where I knew where everything was was a huge comfort. Having been pushed and shoved around this country, as anyone just visiting a place where you don't know the language would be, it's nice to see a familiar restaurant, a familiar street, a familiar face. Isabella was in charge of the agriturismo when we stayed last year and all I can think when I see her again for the first time in 16 months is that she looks considerably thinner. She is just as welcoming as she was then and I appreciate the effort she takes to meet me and talk to me about how life has been.
From there it's off to a new winery in my Fiat 500 that I rented in Arezzo. I awoke at 6:45 this morning for no reason, maybe eager to embark on my day's trip, maybe thrilled from the interview I had the previous night for a new job within my company. I'm not sure which, but by the time 8:35 rolls around, the horses are fed, breakfast has been eaten and I am ready to go. Lucie is kind enough to drop me at the bus stop where we travel for about 35 minutes before reaching Arezzo train station, a place I have gotten to know well. I grab a taxi which takes me to the car rental place and they knight me with my keys to my Fiat. The exact Fiat I marveled at last year, except in white; you would have thought I won the lottery when I saw it, silently squeeling on the inside with hysterical giddiness. The man looks at me, looks at the car, looks back at me, seeming to be unsure of the situation. "Have any questions about the car?" "Nope," I reply, "I've driven one before," and with that, I'm off.  Heading in the opposite direction from the highway I'm supposed to be on, but I won't realize that for another 5 minutes, so I'm happy.
And now back to the present. After having my cathartic, and somewhat painful trip down memory lane, I have more bottles of wine than I would care to admit in my car and a hankering to get back to the farm where I am welcome and looked after.
Just a few hairpin turns, a taxi ride, a bus ride and then another car ride to go. If only it was that easy... Until you miss your bus, break a bottle of wine and forget to leave the keys with the rental place. Other than that, piece of cake.