I don't think I can recall a time where I've been afraid or hesitant of rain until this past Tuesday, October 15. My friends and I were on what we believed to be a relatively simple mission: we planned to go to the mall in the northern part of Siena, just outside of the Porta Camollia, to an all-you-can-eat Japanese restaurant called Sushiko. Our only challenge was the slight potential of rain that my weather app showed. With that in mind and sneakers prepped, we headed off towards a good night of food and conversation. That is, until halfway through our journey when it started to not only rain, but the clouds seemed to begin to pour water into the streets.
We had been walking maybe five minutes when the sprinkles began. Not thinking anything of a little rain, we put up our umbrellas and zipped our raincoats and continued on our journey through the wet cobblestone street. Then the rain started to get heavier and heavier, and after about two minutes of walking some of our group members decided to stop at a one euro store to grab some simple and cheap umbrellas–just for good measure. I was glad at this point that I had decided to bring my large umbrella and opened it as the rain continued to steadily gain in weight and speed. It seemed that as soon as we left that store that mother nature went into full tantrum mode.
I've only found myself walking in downpours very few times, but there was something about having to trudge uphill through flooded cobblestone streets that really topped the cake. It seemed that the closer to the food we got the harder mother nature cried. By the time we had reached the glorious Porta Camollia, everyone's shoes had turned into sunken boats and our jeans were the drenched sails. Still, we trudged onwards towards the mall and to our reward of delicious sushi and Japanese cuisine.
By this point in our journey, I had grown used to the sloshing of the water between my feet and the soles of my shoes and the creeping cold that had settled around my ankles despite the stinging rain. My umbrella had given up hope of protecting me and I remember waiting at a crosswalk and feeling the steady drip, drip, drip of water as it fell through the canopy onto my hair.
An atmosphere of relief came over the whole group as the glass entrance of the mall came into sight. It felt like we had been walking for an eternity and I was grateful to see the chance of shelter from the torrent of water. We pushed through the crowds to find our way indoors and slowly made our way down the slippery escalators and stairs until we saw what we had came all that way for. There we were, six drenched women making our way towards Sushiko in hopes of that good time we had planned. We must have looked like we had come from the ocean the way we dragged puddles of water with us. But it didn't matter because we had finally gotten our reward; our mission was at last complete.