In 2015, I did one of the bravest things I have ever done to build my courage. I went to Venice, one of the most romantic cities in the world, on my own. I was single at the time, my friends were busy or couldn’t afford the trip on short notice.
Every 2 years Venice has an art festival in Spring: La Biennale or Biannual in English. So with 2 guide books, a tonne of courage, a selfie stick (I take terrible pictures at the best of times but they were worse with a selfie stick.) I booked 4 nights at the JW Marriott Resort & Spa on an island called Isola Delle Rose. An island that tried to declare its independence from Italy and for an ephemeral moment in history was an independent nation.
I arrived at night and instead of braving the public transport, to get to the hotel shuttle, I took a water taxi to my hotel. Best decision ever. The views were pretty special and I had the opportunity to squeal my delight without being self-conscious.
I’d get the hotel water taxi shuttle every morning to St Mark’s square and spend the day marvelling at Venice, the art exhibitions.
The highlight was discovering the exhibition from Zimbabwe called “Pixels of Ubuntu.” Suddenly, in a strange city far from home, there, my beautiful fellow Zimbabweans flying our flag in Venice. I spent ages there, just hanging out.
It was mostly sunny, and warm, but every now and again there’d be torrential rain. Because of the Bienalle, the streets of Venice were heaving with humanity. I liked the rain because it emptied the piazzas and little alleyways and I would come out in the rain and walk freely to my next stop on the guide book. I got lost many times. But I found a friendly face is an international language. People were happy to help.
I went to numerous art galleries. And every now and again, I’d stumble on a tiny hidden gallery and I’d be the only person leisurely enjoying the whole place. I came across a painting of Lucretia, (there are dozens and dozens of them) but this one made me cry and up to today I do not really know why. It made me sort of understand why some people are intense when it comes to art. I’ve never been one to care too much about paintings so that was a new experience for me.
I ate so much Gelato. I drank many carafes of Italian wine, all the Prosecco I could manage. Every lunchtime I went to the same cafe where the waiters were super friendly.
I wish I’d taken more selfies but I was so pre occupied with the feast for the eyes taking place. I was usually so tired after a day of traipsing up and down the hundreds of little bridges in Venice that when I got back, I’d soak my weary bones and order room service.
I did every touristy thing except ride a Gondola. I needed to save one thing for the next visit. My confidence grew with each hour I spent in Venice. I relied entirely on my own wits and ability to communicate and Google translate. It was one of the best times of my life and I highly recommend not waiting for the perfect moment to go to some of these places. There never is. Yes I used an entire month’s salary on a 4 day trip, and I don’t remember how I survived the rest of that month, but I will never forget my 4 days alone in Venice.
