Can we either say or pronounce where we are going?

1/23/2010- San Gimignano
I feel as though whilst abroad, we know how to get to our destination about 7% of the time. Originally, I prided myself on my keen sense of direction, map reading skills, and savvy street smarts. Those previously redeeming qualities evaporate into the Italian atmosphere upon the first foreign syllable being uttered as we try and maneuver our way around this new land. Not being able to communicate with those with whom you are asking directions from presents a myriad of issues. I anticipated getting lost would be not only stressful but foster a negative impact upon any given experience. Au contratre, it has only added to any event that has taken place. Literally everywhere I went this past weekend, I was lost; and could not have been happier about it. Friday we frolicked around the city, growing acclimated to our new home. This involved a rendezvous with the Salvatore Ferragamo museum (heaven), walks down the Ponte Vecchio/ Triangle bridge, cappuccinos and canolis, and attempting to find the Piazza Michelangelo which instead led us up into a residential area of Florence. And by residential, I should explain that I mean residential VILLAS. Villas with family crests etched into their marble porches and wraight-iron gates. The walk was breathtaking and only prefaced the more amazing disoriented experience that occured the next day. Saturday, we ventured to San Gimignano, Tuscany. Upon getting off the train, we realized that we were not infact in San Gimignano, but it a neighboring "city" that we could neither pronounce nor remember the name of (it still escapes me). We took a wee-little hike around town and then found by some grace of God the bus station to get us to our actual destination. Being lost in the mystery city would have been a sight more enjoyable had our bellies been full and bladders been empty. San Gimignano was quaint, and simply darling. We enjoyed a quiet, prolonged lunch hour followed by wine and appertivo before our departure back to Florence. Regardless of getting off at the wrong stop, having to fork over additional euro (from a too- quickly depleting supply) for a bus ticket to the REAL place we were going, I loved every second of it. Good laughs with good friends on an absolutely amazing weekend. Success!