The Beauty of a Bee Sting

​Maybe the clipped fresh lavender on that beautiful Saturday morning that I placed in my purse instigated the bees? Comically, all day our family swatted away the busy pests that were incessantly following us from place to place. I had forgotten about the lavender stems that I had haphazardly placed deep within my purse, even though the subtle fragrance emanated everywhere we went that day. Nevertheless, a bee in pursuit eventually stung my husband. While the initial reaction seemed mild, that same day it became very inflamed. By Sunday, his wrist had doubled in size and we began to search for an antihistamine.

We were staying in Gaiole at an incredibly beautiful hotel called Castello di Spaltenna, an ancient medieval castle and hamlet dating back to 1030. The hotel is positioned on a hill just above the town of Gaiole and is surrounded by vineyards. The property was in close enough proximity that we were able to walk down into the town that night for dinner. Initially we thought that we would meander around the centro (center) of town in search of a farmacia (pharmacy) and then have dinner at one of our favorite restaurants in the town of Gaiole called Lo Sfizio di Bianchi for our favorite dish, black truffled ravioli.
 
We walked around the town and quickly realized that there weren’t many places open on Sunday with exception of a few restaurants and one wine bar. I entered the wine bar and began trying to communicate our dilemma. I did not speak any Italian at the time except, “dov’é il bagno” (where is the bathroom), so I began my declaration process by pointing at my wrist while making buzzing sounds with an intermittent stop to imitate the sting of the beast.  I’m sure it must have been hilarious for the onlooker. The bartender shook his head no, indicating that he could not help Jess. Flustered, I ordered two glasses of Chianti and decided to give up the charades. We sat just outside of the wine bar and shortly thereafter watched the bartender grab his bag, apparently finished with his workday.

Beginning to unwind from a fun day in Chianti, we sipped our wine awaiting the restaurant to open. In the distance we watched the bartender walking back to the wine bar, but this time with a woman dressed professionally, carrying a bag and set of keys. She approached us and with perfect English announced that she was the town’s Pharmacist. With a bright smile and very gentle nature, the bartender gestured good-bye, “Ciao”.  The Pharmacist then invited us to follow her just around the corner to the Farmacia, where she opened the closed store and retrieved antihistamine for my husband.
 
Reflecting on that day, I often wonder amidst the chaos of a typical day in my hometown in the U.S., could this experience be duplicated? Would my pharmacist in my hometown open a store closed on Sunday, to provide an antihistamine for a bee sting? The beauty of a bee sting resonates my love for the simplicity of a rural hamlet, the kindness of its town’s people, and the graceful Italian way of life in Tuscany.
 

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