All Rights Reserved © 2018, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This novel contains 50 chapters.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Having settled on a plan, a general sigh of relief had overcome us all. Many of us had stayed awake most of the night, so it didn't take long before we fell asleep. David bunched our jackets behind him against the side of the van, and I leaned against David with his arms around me. That had become my favorite way to sleep regardless of the location or circumstance, and I know he enjoyed it.
At eleven o'clock, we stopped for lunch in Geneva, Switzerland. We wouldn't stay long, so we chose a bistro at random. It proved itself suitable and filling, even with their predictable cuisine, not that David, Cadmar, or Aiden would notice. The menu had no photos, and since they wouldn't know a fondant from a fondue, I made recommendations for them.
As for the location, I wanted one on the lake if for no other reason than to remind us of home. I knew the gesture would not have gone unappreciated by Pearce and Cadmar. I wanted to keep our spirits up, and the boredom of an 18-day journey aboard the ship might have drained us all.
"How much longer before we get there?" Maggie asked Julien as we climbed back into the van.
"According to the internet, about six hours," he said.
"How do you feel, Rocke?" Cadmar asked, standing there with the drone case in his hands. "If you need to stop halfway to stand up for a few minutes, that's fine with us. Don't think you must drive straight through."
"Thank you for asking, but I feel fine," he said, "I slept well last night, and it's a pleasure to have stamina again. The cancer made me ill for some time before the treatment cured me." Rocke paused for a moment and reached up to grip Cadmar's shoulders, staring him in the eyes. "Anything that any of you need from me, I am here for you. You want me to drive all over the world or swim the length of the Grand Canal; whatever you want, I will do it."
Cadmar stared at him for a moment, but there was no doubt of Rock's sincerity. Cadmar hugged him, thanking him for being there.
David took my hand and pulled me into the van. "And, what about you?" he asked. "Have you slept enough, or will we get back to it?"
"If we sleep all day, we won't sleep tonight. Would you mind if we stayed up all night?" I asked.
He smiled knowingly.
I shook my head. "I should have known better than to ask."
Rocke stopped at the halfway point for a bathroom break at an Autogrill rest stop on the autostrada. Back on the road, however, the last three hours flew by. We woke up just before arriving at our parking destination in Mestre. From there, we would ride ten minutes by train to reach Venice.
We grabbed our bags and crossed the street to the station, where Julien used the kiosk to avoid the lines for our tickets. We validated them and boarded the next train to the island. Among our group, only Rocke, Julien, and I had a previous visit to Venice. I looked forward to showing David around. As the train entered the causeway over the water, we could see some of Murano in the distance.
"I've seen photos of San Marco Square," said Cadmar, "but apart from that, what makes Venice so special besides the water?"
"Its beauty," I said, "its artistic style, the fact that it took a great amount of human ingenuity to build it. Only one Venice exists; people have often tried to imitate it, but no imitation could do it justice."
I had never visited Venice with someone I loved. So, I had never experienced its so-called
romantic
side. I wondered how different an experience I might have.
The train pulled into the station, and we hopped off. Visitors packed the train station, and they would do so often throughout the weekend, providing the train workers hadn't gone on strike.
The newcomers in our group found the architecture and the ambiance of Venice impressive. Although for myself, having seen Jiyū, I couldn't say the same. The beauty of Venice didn't compare to One City for me.
The Italians called the Venetian equivalent to a bus, a
vaporetto
. The good-sized boat could pack about 230 passengers, so by no means could one describe it as dinky. We picked up our three-day vaporetto tickets, courtesy of our benefactors, and went to board one. It would take us from the train station through the entire length of the Grand Canal to San Marco Square, but as we reached the turnstile, Pearce balked on us. He refused to get on.
"You don't understand," he said. "The likelihood that the choppy water last night caused the rest of you to become motion sick is rather good. On a casual boat ride and calm water, you may not have that difficulty. I have always had motion sickness problems, and they can't seem to fix that back home. Got a pill? I'll happily take it, and if you give me half an hour, I will join you with pleasure. If not, I insist on walking."
Having experienced it recently, we could hardly blame him. "I have visited Venice frequently," I said, "so I know the way, and we've ridden in the van for hours. Walking might do us some good."
"I could use a walk," Cadmar said.
"It wouldn't bother me to walk," said Maggie. "It's not that far, right?"
"Nothing is that far in Venice," I said.
"Any objections?" David asked.
"Would anyone mind if I took the boat and got us checked in?" asked Julien. "I still have our passports from yesterday."
"Oui, me as well," said Rocke. "I've seen Venice. It's beautiful, but I've driven all day, and I'm a bit tired."
"No, please," I said. "Do what you feel best for you. I can get us there, not a problem. Oh, one last thing, though. May I know the name of the hotel?"
"The Hotel Didoni," said Julien with a simple smile.
I gasped. "You're kidding! We're staying there?" I could not believe it. I knew the Hotel Didoni as arguably the most luxurious hotel in Venice and one where I had only seen the lobby. I refused to waste what little money I had to stay there. During my past visits, I would have just enough money to afford a tiny room for one night at the back of that hotel, with a view of a wall to the building next door. At that point, I would return home, having spent an entire week's hotel budget. Julien and Rocke told us they would see us soon and departed for the dock.
"What's the Hotel Didoni?" David asked.
"I've ruined enough what Julien had as a surprise," I said. "So, I will say no more, other than to tell you that this hotel room will not require a strip-search."
I led our group across the Scalzi bridge, following the trail of pedestrian traffic, feeling grateful to arrive in Venice on the cusp of November; autumn had far fewer tourists to contend with than summer.
We scarcely noticed the light, brisk breeze among the narrow paths between the buildings. The sun had dropped in the sky, and night would soon fall. I loved Venice at night with its beautifully lit buildings and fewer people on the streets.
The builders of Venice made its walking areas a chaotic series of pathways on a level of complexity that the underground of Facility3 could never imitate. One could find oneself "lost" in Venice, despite how easy the signage made reaching one of the main points of reference: the train station, the Rialto, or San Marco Square. I enjoyed the privilege of "losing my way" in Venice every time I visited. As we trekked to the hotel, I remarked on the signage, in case my less adventurous companions became disoriented while exploring the historical city for themselves that weekend.
I gave them a bit of a tour on the main path. They enjoyed the tidbits of information I had provided, especially the juicy bits from my own experience.
Photographs of San Marco Square could never do it justice. One had to experience and hold the square within the entirety of one's vision. It remained as magnificent as I had remembered, even at dusk, as we saw it then. Napoleon called it Europe's drawing-room, and I could see why, at least for the era.
"The book in our library showed a huge flock of birds here," said Cadmar. "Where did they go?"
"The ones that remain have settled down to roost for the night," I said, "but the number of pigeons has plummeted since it became illegal to feed them. Their acidic droppings were damaging the buildings and the artwork."
"Aww," said Cadmar.
"Pigeons are disgusting birds," Maggie said, "many cities consider them pests."
Aiden leaned into Cadmar. "They're little more than flying rodents." He teased, slapping his hand on Cadmar's back. "Sorry, if that disappoints you, buddy."
"I want to see this hotel," said David. "Where do we go?"
I led them around the corner of the Doge's Palace and out to the wide promenade, known as Riva degli Schiavoni, and a broader view of the lagoon.
We found the Hotel Didoni just down the walkway past the Bridge of Sighs. When we entered the building, the sight before us was breathtaking.
"Merde," Maggie whispered.
"I feel underdressed," said David.
"Wow," said Aiden. "Would you call this hotel a dump, David?"
"I should think not," he said.
The owner had given the building a meticulous restoration, and then sumptuously decorated it with revitalized and well-cared-for, period-appropriate furnishings. It had marble columns and archways, inlaid marble flooring, gorgeous textured marble walls, balconies, and carpeted marble staircases reaching the heights of the building. Anyone who thought that marble rooms sound cold and bland had not witnessed the warmth and beauty before us. As the epitome of 14th Century grandeur, the former Venetian palazzo continued to thrive as the wonderfully resplendent Hotel Didoni. Its beauty compared to those on Jiyū, but One City had no Venetian-styled buildings.
"Does anyone see Julien or Rocke?" Cadmar asked.
When we wandered farther into the lobby, Pearce saw them first. They awaited our arrival in the seating area near the front desk. Julien returned our passports and handed us our room keys. When the others got theirs, they departed to settle in. Among our group, only Julien, David, and I remained in the lobby.
When it finally came to David and me, Julien jingled the key in front of my face to entice me. "I know you will enjoy this room," he said with a smile.
"They keep this hotel constantly booked up, Julien," I said. "How did they manage it?"
"I don't know, but they did," he said. "Come on; you know you want it."
