The Hiking Companion

[Last week I went to a hiking retreat, one of these things made for people with considerable means, to which I was invited by a publicist who probably didn’t realise I wasn’t really an influencer anymore. Even though I am a WOPTDGLBSI (Woman Of Principles That Doesn’t Get Lured By Swanky Invites) now, I couldn’t resist the draw of finding myself in nature. 


Okay, and also in expensive spas.


The good news is that these kinds of events always have me coming back with my arms full of stories. I have so many insights and observations that this will probably be the first of a few other letters, but I wanted to simply start with this encounter I had and which profoundly touched me.]
 

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It was Italy in the fall, and everywhere you went, hand-written signs were advertising funghi porcini, the season’s mushroom that makes Italians as hysterical as Americans are on Black Friday. The mountains were slowly wrapping themselves in a coat of mellow yellows and oranges. The weather was warm and soft as t…