Venice, I Love You
No notes — You’re a Work of Art
Recently I stood in the kitchen with my guy and we were chatting about upcoming travel and “our list” (a collection of all the places we still wish to visit). And I mentioned that someday I would like to go back to Venice, Italy.
The first time I visited Italy it was circa 2003 and I was graduating from college with my undergraduate degree. And an adventurous friend and I dreamed up a trip to Europe as they were also graduating with their masters degree around the same time. Though I had no job lined up for my return I thought I might get enough graduation gift money to help me cover my travel costs. Due to the proximity to the 2001 terrorist attack round trip flights to Paris from Los Angeles were still cheap.
We booked our tickets and prepared to set out to adventure through France and Italy. I packed a huge expedition backpack and left my continent for the first time in my life. As a child my family rarely traveled, and when we did it was to visit family in another state or up the coast of California.
After landing in Paris I was jet lagged and culture shocked. It was a lot. But after a good night’s sleep and some food I started to slowly get the hang of things. I realized I was capable of traveling far away and figuring things out. I was fortunate to have a friend who was a more seasoned traveler leading the way. We even had to navigate a huge train workers’ strike and I met a lovely family who invited me to sit with them and who shared their snacks with me. They called my space buns meatballs. We all laughed.
Once I realized I could travel I craved going back. Fast forward a couple of decades and I’ve had some great experiences traveling (and let’s be honest, not so great as well).
When I stood in my kitchen discussing future travel I said: “… and you know, I’d really love to go back to Venice someday.” I didn’t realize how quickly someday would come.
I had already turned down an opportunity to chaperone a trip to Greece for the university I work at a week or so prior. What I didn’t know at that moment was that only a week after our kitchen conversation I would be invited to chaperone a trip to … Venice.
I quickly decided to go. It was a short trip (5-days on the ground, plus travel), but it was incredible. One of the things I loved most about Venice the first time I was there were the lack of vehicles in the city. It created such a different feeling of calm even in a busy place. When I returned and got re-familiarized with the vaporettos (water taxis) I remembered quickly what I had loved so much about Venice: it’s beautiful … and falling apart.
The buildings often lean in toward one another, roof lines slope, and mortar crumbles. It’s breathtaking. The new buildings stand out in an odd way against the ancient.
I found myself hanging off the rails of the boats I traveled on watching the shapes of the buildings shift and bow. I was enchanted.
As I admired the broken plaster and the patch work repairs it occurred to me that perhaps I could look at my own aging body with the same perspective. I’ve previously heard the advice to look lovingly at your maturing face with gratitude and it sounded trite to me. But in Venice I experienced seeing the beauty of what time does to us all.
Kate Winslet is quoted from a 2022 BBC Women’s Hour interview saying: “I think women come into their 40s thinking: ‘Oh well, this is the beginning of the decline and things start to change and fade and slide in directions that I don't want them to go in anymore.’ And I’ve just decided no … We become more woman, more powerful, more sexy. We grow into ourselves more, we have the opportunity to speak our mind and not be afraid of what people think of us, not care what we look like quite so much. I think it’s amazing.” More is how I saw Venice.
Maybe one day I’ll see myself like I see Venice now: with awe, enchantment, and a bit of wonder.