Nov 12 Day 39 Back to Siena!

A wonderfully unexpected return trip to Siena, this time to be able to visit with outrageously talented Mahan, who went to the IB high school with my daughter Emily, and his helpful and knowledgeable friend Marcia.  I'll put in a quick plug for him and urge everyone to follow his soaring achievements as a world renown harpsichordist in London -  http://www.mahanesfahani.com/.  Often the BBC will have a live stream of his concerts and they are truly outstanding.  Plus he is the nicest guy in the world - I mean, who would travel a long way to have lunch with his high school friend's MOM?  I am most grateful.  I was even a trooper at lunch and tried some of Mahan's dish of blood head cheese (and actually it wasn't bad).

It was fun to see Siena again, the glorious Medieval city that it is, and to walk along its charming streets.

We met at the fountain in the Campo and I learned a bit about the July and August Palios - such as the fact that they put down tons of dirt for the race, tie mattresses to the sides of the buildings so the horses don't crash and die, and that there are bleachers and zillions of people cheering for one of the 17 contrades.

Of course we visited the Duomo and enjoyed the symbols of Siena - the black & white which dates back to the first Palio alla Lunga where Senio (Remus's son) and Ashio's horses were, respectively, black and white (also the colors of the smoke from their sacrificial burnings).  We also visited the courtyard of the Palazzo Chigi Saracini, in whose courtyard Vivaldi’s Four Seasons was first performed in public, as well as the Saint Catherine of Siena Church where we saw both her actual head and her finger (both a bit shriveled but they are old, plus I think she had an eating disorder).  She and St. Francis are the patron saints of Italy.

Back in Florence, I happened upon a market festival that occurs only once every two years and was able to sample new olive oils, wines, cheeses, and honey.  There was a little band there, which even played All of Me and When the Saints Go Marching In.

People were going crazy for the prosciutto, like this one being cut from the poor pig's leg.