The streets of Venice are miracles of light and dark, labyrinthine and full of secrets even the best guidebooks can’t unravel. It was a wonderful city for us to explore without kids through the narrow passageways and the infinite drowning waterways. With the children safe at home several thousand miles away with our family, we were able to walk dreamily along the old streets admiring the lagoon city with its weathered and worn architecture. Like wizened elders at the feast, we strolled across its romantic bridges crisscrossing the canals in an endless tableau inviting us to linger.
If we rushed at all, it was only to gaze more fervently into the scene looking for details, gasping at beauty, breathless with awe. Some cities we visit are obstacle courses to be outmaneuvered, others are platters of delight, others still are works of art. I love the ones that invite me to stare, the cities like Venice, ravished by water and sun but blazing with ancient glamour.
We weren’t sure if we’d ever make it back to Venezia again, so we splurged and stayed at the 5 star Hotel Bauer, marveling at the water lapping at the foundation as the water taxi dropped us almost inside the lobby itself. For many years, I kept the Hotel Bauer Do Not Disturb sign on my own bedroom door at home as a reminder of Venice and as a useful tool of communication when I needed some quiet time to myself.
Everyday, we walked outside surprised to see the city still gleaming before us. Venice seemed to be built over the centuries with the Earth’s turning and the sun’s positioning always in mind. We spent each morning dining outside and picked up an English Breakfast Tea habit from those unforgettable Venetian breakfasts. In the evenings, we drank red wine at dinner with songs from the passing gondolas swirling around us. Venice ignites all five senses at once and left me bereft when I returned home to the dullness of the American aesthetic.
One day we walked so long and so far, it was like we wandered behind the painted stage scenery to where the real Venetians lived and worked. Another day, we traveled over to Lido Beach and joined sunbathers beside the Adriatic Sea. We ate gelato and cursed Dairy Queen.
On another day, we strolled through San Marco square, and the bells tolled while the birds swarmed. We sat at a cafe, and tried to figure out how we could make our life more beautiful, more sensory, more Venetian which meant trying to prioritize pleasure in our daily life and not just for a few days while on vacation.
Some people may want to preserve special experiences by taking them in small doses and savoring them. But I want to wear them out with use, I want to leave this life with my soul soaked in sun and sugar. I want to overload my senses and exhale each day with a contented sigh. I want to fill my everydays with vacation-worthy pursuits: cafe stops, wanderings, the taking in of views, desserts, the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, late dinners, big breakfasts, and music always in the air.
I want to live in a vacation state of mind, so I’ve started to track my days measuring and listing pleasures rather than work. I am creating a new kind of to-do list. I’m penciling in skygazing, museum visits, and sitting at outdoor cafes. I’m using the wedding china as everyday dishes and embracing cocktail hour like I’m at Hemingway’s favorite spot in Venice, Harry’s Bar.
I started in January with my new Planner, a pretty, spiraled, flowery calendar with space for lists and room for reflection. Each day, I note the things I do that are outside of responsibilities and expectations. Things more akin to vacation living. Everyday can’t be a Venetian dream, but it can be punctuated with daily pleasures.
I want to go to Venice NOW!