“Mom! We’re home now. How’s Venice?” The excitement in her voice was contagious.
“I’m so glad you two made it to New York safe and sound. I’m standing on the streets of Venice taking in the beauty. Jaime, I can’t believe I’m here.” Joy inhaled the sea air.
“That’s great, Mom! Michael and I are so happy for you. I’m glad you listened to Claudia and ventured off alone,” Jaime said.
Claudia, their beautiful, statuesque guide in Rome that the publisher had provided for photography contest winners, took Joy aside one night and whispered in her ear about how lovely Venice was and that it was calling to her.
“I don’t know . . .” Joy had grimaced at the thought of traveling alone.
“You must go to Venezia.” Claudia had clasped her hands to her heart. “It is the heart of Italy. The most beautiful city in the world.”
“I thought Rome was?” Joy had asked her.
But Claudia shook her head. “Venezia. It calls to you, Joy. You must answer.”
The memory flashed through her mind.
“Mom? Are you there?” Jaime’s voice jerked her out of the flashback.
“Yes! I’m here, and I agree. I’m glad I listened to Claudia too.”
“Guess what? The wedding venue we wanted is available.” Jaime giggled into the phone.
“That’s wonderful, honey. Now you and Michael can start planning.” Joy grinned widely.
“I’ll FaceTime with you later, Mom. I’ve got to get some sleep.”
Joy said her goodbyes, then ended the call. She exhaled and glanced upward. Thank you, Lord, for giving Michael to Jaime and vice versa. They are so good together.
The year before, Jaime had been left at the altar by Carl.
Carl. Joy shuddered just thinking about him.
She still couldn’t believe what had happened. But in the end, as painful and humiliating as that horrible experience had been, everything turned out for the best. Joy entered Jaime’s photo in the contest, Jaime won an all-expenses-paid trip to Rome, she met Michael there, they fell in love, and now they planned to be married in a few short months.
Joy sighed.
What a romantic story they would have to share with everyone. Meeting each other and then falling in love in the most romantic city in the world.
Did it get better than that?
Joy used her phone to pay for the vaporetto then hopped onboard with many other tourists and headed along the Grand Canal. As she watched the cityscape transform with the changing light, she and other tourists drank in the sunshine warming the skin and calming the soul. The scent of the salty sea air invigorated her.
The boat passed under the Ponte dell’Accademia, the famous bridge near the art academy. Various sites including the dome of the Santa Maria della Salute, the home of Peggy Gugenheim, expensive hotels, and waterside restaurants appeared on her left and right sides. Joy leaned on the rail in the bow of the boat, taking photos and videos along with the other tourist.
Each photo could be a postcard.
Each video, a dreamscape.
In Venice for a few minutes, it had already left an indelible mark on her heart. The ocean air, the scent of the water, and the enchanting scenery had not only awakened her soul but had also woven memories that would stay with her forever.
Every canal they passed, every bridge, every narrow alley whispered stories of a rich and vibrant history unlike any other. A profound connection with this place emerged within her. It’s almost as if I’ve been here before in another life.
Now she understood what Claudia had meant. Venice was an experience and not just a destination. Much like Rome, it was a journey into the past while living fully in the present. But with canals where streets should be and boats where cars should be.
Its intoxicating charm overwhelmed her.
The boat docked near the Giardini Reali, not far from Piazza di San Marco, filled with boutiques, plein air artists, and shoppers.
“Too many tourists,” one lady remarked as she disembarked.
But the bustling docks and sidewalk didn’t bother Joy. People watching remained one of her favorite pastimes.
The boatmate helped Joy disembark with her bags. “Arrivederci,” she said.
He smiled. “Grazie.”
Joy pulled her luggage along the sidewalk toward the
the famous piazza, heading toward her hotel, but hesitated. A gondola ride along a smaller canal appealed to her. What better way to take in the quaint views of the city than by gondola?
Several gondola service ports lined the Grand Canal, so Joy paid the fare and climbed aboard. As the boat glided under a bridge and along the canal, Joy relished the sights and sounds. Gondoliers weren’t singing songs, but they did explain the sights along the way and whistled a famous Italian song instead. Or they simply greeted each other as their gondolas passed. Their voices echoed in the distance and laughter rose from nearby windows, along with the sound of music from pubs and restaurants.
But it was the windows that intrigued Joy.
The windows . . . Joy sighed. They’re so beautiful.
There were so many kinds of windows. Byzantine and Gothic styles as well as more modern-styled windows welcomed her. Some had balconies with baskets of geraniums, while others had clothes dangling from lines strung across the windows and balconies.. The architectural style of the buildings varied as much as the types of flowers displayed throughout.
