A Season of Wonderlust: Venezia - Lie Back and Float (6/22 to 6/26)

Taking the best symbolism from the ten-hour delay I endured, waiting for my Volotea flight to arrive in Sicilia and shuttle me to Venezia on the 22nd of June, I shall say that this tedious, dazed, hungry and tired day I spent in Catania’s airport modeled for me how I ought to treat my time in Serenissima (Her Serene Royal Highness), in the Floating City, in Venezia - that is to say, I should take it slowly.

It should be noted that my airport day was its own, modest adventure in a bottle
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With my meager 10 Euro food allowance, I experienced the profound good nature and helpfulness of an airport restaurant’s staff. Its cashier, barista, and manager all banded together to find me allergy-safe food, complete with smiles and apologies. They did not owe me any apology! I apologized to them for the inconvenience I created, and was grateful for their help. Then I enjoyed complimentary, fresh-squeezed Sicilian orange juice (and later, pomegranate juice), along with some delicious, raw salmon.

A kind Italian man who also spoke English translated the ongoing (and ongoing, and ongoing) flight drama for me so that I was not completely lost. He later donated his unused food voucher to me so that I could get a late-night snack.

An American who worked in computer technology - specifically, RFID chips, for those who like detail - was my seatmate when the plane finally arrived and boarded at 2am (yes, am - the flight was originally meant to leave at about 4pm). Our friendly chat gave me a little bit of home comfort in the final stage of my decidedly irregular journey from Sicilia to Venezia.

Throughout the proceedings, I had been texting one of my new Sicilian friends, as well as my host-to-be in Venezia, both of whom provided some helpful advice about the flight and my possible legal rights (outcome of that aspect still remains to be seen). My Venezia host also reassured me that she would be ready for me, whenever I arrived, which eased my anxiety about my ultimate arrival. My mother also, graciously, endured a bit of venting throughout the day as I kept her apprised of my slooooooow progress.

The ultimate message that day: there is only so much one can do, so figure out what you do have influence over, and otherwise try to relax. To be honest, I wasted quite a bit of time imagining alternative travel plans, some of which may have been viable but none of which was ultimately relevant. Most of the day I waited, and the path in the end was identical to the path at the beginning - it just took longer than I expected. It is not always this way, but that day, it was.

At nearly 4am, I arrived at Venezia’s airport - a facility the beauty of which I would have admired at a more lucid hour, although its serenity at this ghostly time of night still captivated my mostly-unconscious brain - then took a costly, and mercifully fast, taxi to my latest temporary home.

My blessed host was there immediately, with a smile and a set of keys, to invite me into what was hands-down the most luxurious accommodation I have enjoyed on my journey. This certainly accentuated the urgency, as it were, of lying back and relaxing. I took in my serene surroundings, then quickly fell into oblivion.

Home - kitchen

(I took a lot of pictures of the home I stayed in. I had it all to myself. I mean, look at this place! The bathroom, which you can just glimpse here, had an amazing triptych-style vanity, but it felt weird taking a picture of a bathroom.)

Home - dining/living room

Home - bedroom

Home - a fine dinner

For the next three days I walked, rode, and watched. I quickly discovered that Venezia is a very costly city to visit so there was little temptation for me to “do” a lot of things, assuming that I might have had the energy. I bought a multi-day water bus pass and wandered the compact maze of canals, bridges, and streets. When I was not haunting the city, I basked in the air-conditioned peace of my private four-star retreat (not technically four-star, but to me it was).

During my stay, I enjoyed a visit to Museo del Vetro (Museum of Glass) - one of two art forms for which Venezia is well-known (I greatly regret not finding my way into any sort of paper museum, for paper-craft is another discipline the city is renowned for). I was also thrilled by a lengthy water bus ride around the city during a thunderstorm - I was occasionally a bit alarmed but kept noticing that at no point were any of the locals worried, so I stayed mostly calm and relished being completely surrounded by the dramatic weather, complete with frequent distant, and not-so-distant, lightning strikes. I mounted the Ponte de Rialto more than once, one time late in the evening and found bittersweet pleasure in the almost-romantic sight of my silhouette standing silent on one of the black-paneled arches (alas, no pictures).

Despite my redundancy on this topic, the chronicle of my time in Venezia would be incomplete if I did not admit that I spent quite a bit of time pondering how much fuller the experience would have been - especially the lush accommodations - if there was someone with whom I could have enjoyed them. However, that thought only added a sort of bittersweet counterpoint to my time there - it became a point of meditation about the course of my life, my relative priorities and desires for the future, and neither logjammed nor sank the self that floated on his back so tranquilly through the soothing channels of this fine city.

I did get to enjoy some human contact - in the form of a trio of bewildered women from Atlanta who had become separated from their group and who desperately wanted some help navigating their way out of the city and back to the bus terminal. “Excuse me, do you speak English?” “Why yes, I do.” Their relief was obvious, and it pleased me greatly to be able to help, as I had so many times been helped during my travels. With my GPS map, I became the thread tracing their way out of the night-thick lights and stone lanes and shadows. All one really wants in the end is to matter, and even more than that, to feel full of the meaning of interpersonal contact.