“What???” most people said when I told them I was going to Italy in three weeks with seven women I didn’t know. “Is this another one of your impulsive actions that could end in disaster?”
“Yeah, kinda,” I answered uncertainly. “But it could also be amazing, you know.”
AND IT WAS!
Strange at times, but invigorating
Disorienting at times, yet fascinating
So out of my element.
The first thing I noticed upon landing in Italy and spending the day in Florene was that Italian women are chic. You will never see them running around in sweat pants with baseball caps covering their hair. They wear their long hair twisted up in all kinds of causal but elegant ways and don scarfs artfully draped around their slim bodies. (I’m determined to grow my hair longer and learn all those intricate hair and scarf draping steps too.)
Many of the young women have their arms adorned with large tattoos – of roses, vines, and unicorns. (I’m still undecided about a tattoo, though I got a glowing recommendation of a tattoo artist in Florence.)
Our first group get-together is in Florence. Here is a picture of our group, after finishing a light meal and a yoga class on a rooftop in Florence overlooking the city and the Duomo – a grand cathedral which took over 142 years to build.
Later that evening we arrived at our villa.
The following morning, we had our first of seven silent breakfasts . It was a time to enjoy our cheese, fruit, flaky croissants and coffee.
It was a time to center ourselves and set a personal intention for the
day (Mine usually revolved around something pretty unoriginal, but difficult to execute nevertheless: fully living in the moment). And it was a time to gaze at the verdant, rolling hills of Tuscany.
Meals for Italians are an occasion to enjoy – both the dishes and the company. Dining often includes seven course meals, boisterous chatting and numerous glasses of wine spanning three hours. Unlike the USA, the portions are much smaller and Italians walk away from their meal pleasantly satiated, not stuffed to the brim. (I’m determined to mimic their dining style. No more setting down way too much food on the table at dinnertime, then mindlessly shoveling it in while watching MSNBC.)
For a few meals, the seven of us shopped together at a local market – concentrating on buying what was fresh and in season. Once back at the villa’s country kitchen, we sliced, diced, chopped and cut – artfully arranging the dishes while setting the table. We laughed. We exchanged suggestions on meal prep. We told funny stories about entertaining mishaps. We drank wine. We laughed some more. How different from the way I entertain in Tampa – driving myself crazy cooking everything and setting up everything before my guests arrive. By the time they do, I’m simply too stressed and exhausted to fully enjoy them. (I’m going to entertain differently from now on – asking my guests to come slice and dice with me – as part of the evening’s magic.)
Barre exercises, gentle yoga or a sharing circle followed breakfast and then we showered and dressed for the day. Here’s our sharing circle:
During our stay, we visited San Gimignano, Greve, Montepulciano,and Siena. Plus, we had two free days at our villa in Panzano to veg out, enjoy the pool or book a side trip.
Not all went perfectly:
Not easy to keep up with my companions who were all barre method aficionados who exercise regularly. Often I was out of breath and my muscles were screaming for relief.
My make-up mirror broke upon arrival at the villa, assuring that plenty of rogue chin hairs would be adorning my face.
My watch band broke.
My mascara magically disappeared.
My arthritic knee hurt intermittently after walking for hours on cobblestones in the small towns of Tuscany – but glasses of red wine did wonders for my recuperative powers.
I was consistently light headed and urged to stay hydrated. However, I wasn’t wild about some of the restrooms we stumbled upon, so I kept my intake to a minimum. Stupid.
I often felt like Curious George diving into every experience – always eager to explore the unknown and appreciate each experience – even when it could end in a messy situation like getting caught in a downpour without a jacket in one of the town’s piazzas.
This column is dedicated to my new friends who traveled in Italy with me, ranging in age from 20 to 75:
Helena- wise beyond her years
Esther – adorably assertive
Kendra – (our honorary traveling companion) – a bubble of vivaciousness
Beth – rock solidly beautiful within and without
Jenny – our fearless, irrepressible leader
Veronica- who has the best laugh ever
Selina – an old soul
Here’s a picture of us at a winery, enjoying dining outside with one of the owners (far left).
May we all Keep Tasting the Wine and Preserving our Blooms,
Iris Ruth Pastor