Travels with Debra (and Gate1): Salty Conversation

​Now the official tour has begun. This is our first time on a Gate1 tour, and we are lucky in that ours is a fairly small group, only about 20 people. We’ve heard that Gate1 often has around 50 participants, and Covid spreads frequently on tours.

So far no one in our group is masking, not even us. Norm is still jet lagged, so I hope he doesn’t get Covid too. I rarely drink alcohol, but last night the group went to a farm and winery, and the wine was flowing.

“This white wine is delicious,” I said. “Pour me a tiny bit more.”

Norm shot me a look. He knows I’m prone to migraines. “They do say European wines often have fewer additives, so it might be okay,” he reminded me.

“That’s right—like nitrates or nitrites or something. More water too, please. In fact, let’s ask for another bottle of water.” I try to drink at least equal amounts of water on those rare occasions when I do consume alcohol at all.

The two women sitting across from us were being served a delicious-looking plate of vegetables, and I eagerly awaited mine. And waited. Eventually we received instead a platter for our end of the table of salami, raw ham, and cheese, as well as olives and sundried tomatoes.

It all looked lovely but also very salty, another migraine trigger. “Could I get some of those vegetables?” I asked the server.

She shook her head. “Those ladies do not eat pork.”

“Oh, I see.” My disappointment must have shown.

“Are you not happy?”

“Well, I love wine and salty food, but they don’t always love me.” At ninety-three, my mother still salts her food. But for me, the less salt I eat, the more sensitive my body becomes to it.

“What do you want?”

“Vegetables or salad, if you have any.”

She returned with a plate of vegetables, but she behaved furtively. “Since you are at the end of the table,” she said, “but don’t let anyone see you or everyone will want special treatment.”

I got her point, but I was grateful for the vegetables. I had a nice chat with the non-pork eaters, who live not far from my son in California. One of them has a daughter in Oregon, a state I have yet to visit.

“Our hotel in Florence was really close to the Gucci Palace,” I told them.

“Was it nice?”

“It wasn’t huge, but I liked it. There was this red coat on display that looked just like my new winter coat. Except for the buttons.”

“Is yours a Gucci?” my husband asked.
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“Are you kidding? I got mine at Old Navy, but I could change out the buttons,” I said.

There was this one room where they only let about five or six people in at a time. We were about to give up and leave when our turn came.”

“What was in there?” one of the women asked.

“A mysterious machine that told your fashion fortune when you pushed a button. I pushed the wrong button and the machine caved in,” I said. “The attendant looked really upset. But it came back.”

“Did you get your fortune?”

“Yep. It says, Wear the thing you were saving for a special occasion.”

“Good advice.”

“I’m going to try to remember it,” I agree.

By the time we left on our bus, we were all full, and spirits were high.

“Would you like some music?” our tour guide, Daniele, asked.

“Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!” “Please!” everyone chimed.

We swayed and tapped our toes to Bocelli, Frank Sinatra, Sweet Caroline, YMCA, and It’s Amore. You get the picture.

I was feeling good, but later had trouble sleeping. “Ask future Debra,” my son says when I contemplate drinking wine.

I know he’s right, but I do appreciate the aroma and the taste. We did not buy a bottle. “We don’t have the space in our luggage,” my husband said.

Yesterday ended our first full day on the tour, and we spent most of it in Siena. Inside the cathedral, we saw statues by Michelangelo, frescoes by Rafael, and a statue of John the Baptist by Donatello. “The Mutant Ninja Turtles,” my husband said.

I cannot remember if we still have a stuffed Mutant Ninja Turtle hanging in our son’s old bedroom. It hung there for years after he left for college, as if awaiting his return.

Today the group traveled to Florence from our hotel in Montecatini Terme. Because they will be largely following the same path as our walking tour a few days ago, we chose to stay here.

This area is known for thermal activity, so I’ve booked an outing this afternoon to a thermal pool with a grotto cave called Grotta Giusti, where we’ll experience Dante’s Inferno (coming soon). We’ll need a taxi to get there, unlike the gelato shop, which is right next door.

Tomorrow we head to Cinque Terre (part of the Italian Riviera), which is quite steep, I understand. Rain is forecast, but I’m hoping for partial sunshine.

No air conditioning in this hotel until June, and the rooms get a bit stuffy at night. It’s windy though if you open the windows. Hotel is called Grand Hotel Plaza and Locanda Maggiore. Despite what the internet said, the outdoor pool here is not heated. Hotel is nice, though, and food is good.

Colossians 4: 6 Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt so that you may know how to answer everyone.

Stay safe, and keep reading (I finished The Correspondent and now I’m rereading Flashlight. I recommend both.)
The Past Ever Present: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B091F3MN3R (only 99c to buy on Kindle)