Page 95 of Only One Tour Bus

“As long as it’s not the Palazzo Vecchio. That’s where I told everyone to go last night when they asked me, and it’s the top of my list as well.” And they were more open to asking me, instead of Asha. And I didn’t even hate that they were asking me, even though they could have just read my list. I even gave some specialized recommendations and Asha beamed at me like I had offered to personally take the group around on my day off.

“It’s a classic and I will miss the globe that’s bigger than me. But I have seen the inside multiple times, so I’ll live. I haven’t been to Palazzo Pitti at all.”

“Let’s go there, then.”

Since time is somewhat an issue, and we’ve been walking a lot since the tour started, I call a taxi. It’s an expense I don’t need, but it makes Asha smile at me gratefully.

We have a nice morning strolling through the finely decorated rooms with beautiful paintings of delicate brushstrokes in golden frames, sculptural ceilings with surprise paintings, silk damask wallpaper, and the gardens with its array of sculptures and fountains set in a lush landscape as we chat about the owners and residents of the excessive space.

We laugh easily together. Or I laugh at things she says that she means to be funny, and she laughs at things that I say with all seriousness.

I may not know exactly why she laughs at the things I say, but I’m glad she does it. Maybe one day I’ll learn what makes her laugh, aside from sarcasm, and do it on purpose.

Until then I’ll just be grateful she finds me amusing.

We have such a nice time that we’re almost late to the bus. Which has happened in the past, since life is unpredictable. Public transportation gets delayed, ancient cities get confusing, and sometimes I just lose track of time in a beautiful building where history happened.

But it would have been worse if it happened on a trip where we’re being evaluated for a potential firing. So it’s good we were able to get there on time, even if I do have to run to the hotel front desk to get the bags we left there when we checked out in the morning and load them on the bus while Asha makes sure everyone is here. And then I help load everyone else’s luggage onto the bus.

Taking the seat next to Asha after all the bags are stowed, I grab the cold water she extends to me. I don’t know where she got it, but that’s the magic of Asha.

We only have one more city to go, and then this tour ends. And while I’ll be glad to have the break after the tour, I don’t like worrying about what will happen with Asha and me after Rome.

CHAPTER 41

ASHA

“Rome was founded in 735 BCE, by the…Romans!” I laugh with the group. Thank god they’re smiling now because this mood won’t last. Not in the upcoming heat.

“I know, I know. You’ve been hearing a lot about how the other cities we’ve visited on this tour were also founded by the Romans, because they loved to conquer and they picked good sites that stood the test of time. They also built a lot more than the people that came before them, and in stone, so they get credit for being the first ‘major settlement’ because they’re the first ones we have evidence of.”

We’re still in the bus, bright and early, heading to our walking tour starting point at the Colosseum. The group seems a little sleepy but still okay for now, when we’re in the air conditioning. Only half of the group brought water, but there are always vendors around the popular sites selling bottles for a lot of money.

Laura opens the door to the bus and a wave of heat hits me more effectively than if I was getting punched in one of the kickboxing classes I take when time permits. But I slap on a smile and get ready for the hardest tour of the trip.

“This is going to be great,” I say to Callum.

“Your words are trying hard, but the tone is really undermining you,” he whispers.

He’s got some sweat on his brow, the heat already taking its toll and it’s only eight a.m. We came out purposely early to beat some of the harsh summer weather.

“We’re going to get through this,” I say to the group once they’re all out of the bus and have a chance to experience the heat themselves. “Because we’re the best group ever!”

I hope I sound convincing because I am doubtful. As optimistic as I try to be, I would take the cold over the heat every time.

We start the walk, everyone’s feet shuffling over the cobblestones and streets of Rome like they’re zombies, going in front of and around famous monuments, stopping to impart history and knowledge as we go. The group is so tired and maybe developing heat sickness, so they barely lift their phones for pictures, and the number of selfies has decreased as well.

Callum will be pleased at that.

He’s less pleased when I point out the best photo angles and rouse some of them into a group shot or two to remember this part of the trip by.

“You really won’t remember the heat so much when you get home. You will remember you were vaguely uncomfortable, but more than that, you’ll remember seeing some of the most beautiful sites in Europe.”

I hear grunts, but everyone keeps up while we teach them history. At least the heat has made the parents of the group less mad at us. Maybe the heat will lightly scramble their brains so they won’t remember that stressful night at all.

A girl can hope.

We end the tour at the Vatican, just in time for lunch.