“The equipment is a bit outdated. But with some direction, I get by,” Bones found the gym deeply hidden away by the winding canals and alleyways of Venice almost as soon as we arrived yesterday. “Have a good work-out and I will meet you and Chubby in a little bit,” I turn around from the sun-washed centuries-old courtyard.
I go on my exploration, targeting eventually Campo di Ghetto Nuovo near the northern edge of Venice. The plan: after Bones’ workout, he will go back to the hotel to clean up and set out with Chubby to meet me for lunch. I must have crossed 100 bridges and islands all the while taking in the sights, the sounds, the colors, and the motions of water. All before the tourists have a chance to come out in droves to storm the place.
We manage to find each other in the mid-day mass of tourists. “I need real food,” Chubby chafes at my suggestion of pastries for lunch as we survey the restaurants and cafes lining the streets. “Not a sit-in restaurant. A panini will do,” She offers. “Let’s find a salad place. Unfortunately there are not too many of those places,” Bones suggests we back track to the place he saw. “Up to you guys. I just need a cold drink more than anything else.”
After patrolling up and down the town center a few times, we seat ourselves at a table under the umbrella. Our peculiar dietary preferences on that day set us apart from the rest of the tourists and thus the eateries of their choice. Oceans of humanity, overwhelmingly young, flow by us. I give Bones and Chubby a grateful look for being willing to join us on this trip. “Ma, this is definitely the place to people watch.” They are correct. In the bustling town center, we sit and quietly enjoy each other’s company. Until we need to go and find my husband.
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