There are so many things to tell you about our life here in Venice. The things we’ve done, the things we do, the thing’s we’re planning. The wonderful food we’ve eaten, and the gentle rhythms of Venetian life.
I could begin by telling you about how on a Friday we sometimes buy a bottle of red wine and stow away plastic cups in my bag, then head out into the night, refilling the cups in the darkness of an empty calle. Then about the pizza (tuna and onion, always) that we eat in the silent Campo Bandiera e Moro, before walking along the belly of the fish towards the gilded midnight light of St Mark’s Square.
And a few weeks ago I meant to write about the Festa della Salute – a celebration of the end of a 17th century plague, that today is marked with a pilgrimage to the Salute church and a steaming bowl of castradina. On that bright Tuesday in November, I crossed the purpose-made pontoon to the basilica, lit a candle, said a prayer, then invited a friend over for roast chicken.
To show you the slightly less romantic side of Venice, I also wanted to write about about The Great Apartment Flood, which saw rain seep through our bathroom wall during a storm. It dripped through the light switch and triggered a power cut. But that’s been fixed now, and the day we spent with candles and plenty of blankets has now slipped into romanticism.
There have been things we’ve cooked too, the photos saved and filed, ready to share. Sea bass baked with potatoes, stuffed with lemon and parsley. And the beef shin Dom simmered with borlotti beans until everything melted. We served it with chard and plenty of bread.
And now I’m on a train to Verona. It’s one of the few opportunities I’ve had this month to write (among all of the loveliness of Venice, we’ve been blessedly busy with work). We’re here to visit the Christmas markets with Dom’s parents, exactly two years since I left the city.
Then on Friday we fly home! We’re a third of the way through this adventure, and I’m not quite sure how it’s happened. But I’m so so excited to be home for Christmas, reunited with hot baths, bacon and family. I’ll see you there.