I can personally report that Venice is full of surprises. But they might only arise if you have a squad as slick as mine.
So there we are – the evening alive with colors and sounds, the black of night glinting off the waters. We wander through the winding streets, wading through tourists, our bellies full of food slightly out of our price range. Searching for cheap wine.
No, we are not hooligans. We are classy ladies who happen to enjoy a classy (5 euro) wine.
When all hope seems to be lost, we slide into a Co-op with five minutes til close and snag the goods. Wine and chocolate in hand, we head out into the night, dead set on our next conquest: Gondola.
Turns out we don’t know where to find these mystical creatures. Like the singing frog, they abandon us when we need them most. But alas, we continue to search. We head down a street to the opening of a canal. As we pass a restaurant, we hear a man call out, warning us that we are headed for a dead end. We turn around, and before us stands a beautiful gentleman, seemingly the owner of the restaurant. We explain our predicament, and he kindly and respectfully directs us to the gondolas. And then, without judgement, offers to open our shamefully cheap wine. By the time he’s headed inside with the bottle, we are utterly smitten. You must understand. He was enchanting. Such kindness. Such dapper. Such Italian.
After returning the bottle, we exchange thanks and part ways with our beautiful gentleman, and giggle away like schoolgirls, knowing we have been blessed this good night – our only regret, that we could not afford to return and eat at his restaurant.