By motorcycle, we rolled through the sweeping hills of tuscany, relishing in the beauty of it all. In the area we drove around in, we could not find a soul who spoke English. But, as our hunger worsened, we ended up finding a restraunt where we just looked at a beautiful woman in her late fourties, maybe, pointed to our bellies and hoped she understood. She did. Thankfully. And around 10 minutes later came out with bread and a heaping pile of spaghetti.
