Old Venezia.

With the date and the knowledge that Operation Reunite is about six week away, I am ansy. I am reminiscing quite a bit. I can't stop thinking about what it will be like when I see him again for the first time. I remember seeing him at the airport in Geneva through the open doors of the baggage claim, feeling torn between the three humungous suitcases of clothes and the man I love standing on the opposite side of the door frame. Seeing him in February when he surprised me for Valentine's Day was no less climactic. He showed up at my house and was standing in the doorway when I came home from work one evening. We were surrounded by friends and family and we were both elated.When we see each other in Rome, it will be just as incredible. I don't know if our meeting will be at the airport, at our hostel or where, but all I know is that I'll be in his arms for a most memory filled two week-long date with my bestest friend.

I did a walk down memory lane post about five months after we were in Paris, and I never got around to posting one about Venice. So I think, my dearest readers, that now is the time.


We met Brian's brother, Drew, in Venice. The three of us hadn't seen each other since their graduation from MSG school that previous February, so it was, needless to say, a wonderful experience to take in the grandeur that is Venezia. We  took the train from Geneva into Venice which proved to be such a unique experience. I had never traveled by train before, let alone such a distance (it took about eight hours from beginning to end). We traveled through the snow-covered Alps, and honestly, I don't have the words to describe them. They are majestic. Powerful. Daunting. They make you feel tiny. So insignificant. But in the most awe-inspiring way. You really can't know what they're like until you experience them yourself. So we pull into Venice, find Drew, and immediately want to find food. I think that's something that we all enjoyed the most on this adventure, was chewing our way through pasta and bread and practically swimming through wine. I ate some tomato-y, cheesed up deliciousity and I haven't the slightest at what the boys ate..but we took that first day and just wandered. The best way to discover that city is unguided and unmapped. There are little tiny streets that Americans would probably do their best to avoid if they were still in the States, but those, you learn quickly, are the ones you walk down first.

We found a place for gelato, which we made a point of having at least once a day while we were there. We had mulled wine and hot chocolate (Drew, wasn't it more like hot fudge?). We had pizza. Oh my good, sweet Lord, did we have pizza. The sauce was sparingly waved over the tiny, crispy crust. And the wine was incredible. Sweet and easy going down, I would drink it in place of solid food. It was all amazing.

If I had to pick a word to describe Venice, it would be enchanting. I felt like I was under some spell sometimes. Was I really living this? Am I really seeing these things first-hand? Let me describe the city to you - the people who live there know this obviously, but tourists do not for the most part. The city floods. Every morning, the water rises with the tide and rinses clean/makes dirty the walkways once again. The locals don their galoshes and go about their daily lives, while tourists are absolutely dumb-founded. At night, locals come out and place together platforms end-to-end so there is something of a catwalk strung out about the streets of the city. It really is a marvel. The fog rolls in about 5 or 6 and with it, it brings a sense of mystery and romance. Couples stroll hand-in-hand, some sit and make out unabashedly. The mist hits your face, a tactile reminder that you are so alive in this beautiful and captivating city. Before the water ever thinks about rising in the morning, there are produce vendors manning their many varieties of fruits and vegetables. Close your eyes. You smell chestnuts in metal drums being roasted, fish carts meeting orders of awaiting buyers, so many types of fruits you loose track of what might be what. This was what breakfast was every morning.We'd eat our fruit as we walked, taking pictures of the canals and the mutli-colored residential buildings lining the canals. The textures were rich, from the blue and white of the clouds and sky, the murky grey of the rippled water, the burnt red and the cool greys of the brick and mortar of some of the buildings. The paint was peeling, the wood was rotting. All of these things enriched the experience of such a welcoming and wonderful city.

Before I close, I want to share my favorite memory. I couldn't even tell you where on Venice we were, but there was a large courtyard type place as we were walking back to our hotel. There were people sat on benches chatting, others darting about to unknown and various destinations. Tables were sporadically placed with people lazily conversing. There was no rush, no immediacy to anything anyone did. It was such a wonderful change. As we were crossing the courtyard, there was a little girl kicking a soccer ball around with her dad, I guess. She tried kicking it to her father, but it lost direction and started rolling my direction. As it came to a halt, I walked up to it and nudged it with my foot. She smiled, so I kicked it back to her. She bent down to pick it up and launched it back to me. I rushed towards it, grabbed it and pretended to hide it. She smiled again and pointed at me, too smart for her own good. She knew exactly what had happened to the ball, obviously, so I reappeared the ball and kicked it gently back to her. This playful exchange lasted for a few minutes, then I blew her kisses and said "Grazi, bella" and toddled off. What a sweet memory.

Looking back at our visit to Venice, I would do it all over again so many times. It was such a laid-back, easy-going, picturesque city. It was one place I felt comfortable walking around in, not concerned with who was around me. Maybe that's my naive and overly trusting side speaking, but no matter where you walked, you'd smile at someone and they would smile right back at you. What a wonderful thing for a city so penetrated with tourists and strangers. I will never forget old Venezia.