At the gate in Venice

A light rain. Smell of salt marsh. A quiet morning near Venice.

We've boarded, are sitting in roomy exit row seats, right by the WCs. It's something of a shock to hear so many Americans speaking un-Italianized English.
We bought good salami and bread near where we spent the night. The iPods are in reach, the dopey paperbacks, all we need now is a glass of wine. I think I can sleep all the way.

Ken will and will allow himself to conk out early when we get home. He's got to return in four days and is going to stay on a European schedule. Makes sense. The jet lag is far worse going east than it is returning to the US.

Vinitaly is of course exhausting. It's immense and there's far too much to do, taste and say to the hundreds of people you meet. It's also exhilarating, it peps you up and deepens your appreciation of the wines and the folks who devote their lives to them. It is definitely a pilgrimage worth making if you can.

I've said this many times, but I feel I must say it again. I'm glad to get back to my own bed and my computer. But I already miss Italy.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry