So Much Beauty

We sped across the Ponte della Liberta (with Venice in the near distance) to the docks to catch the ferry to the Lido, which was due to sail in about ten minutes. What great timing! Hopefully there’d be room for our car.  The ferry in sight, just a couple of hundred yards to go… and suddenly a traffic cop appeared out of nowhere and waved us to the side of the road. “Just a routine check…” he started.
“No! You’ll make us miss the ferry!” I interrupted.
“Oh,” he stammered, possibly taken aback by my effrontery and my English accent. “Uh… when does it leave?”
“In ten minutes,” I said as I whipped out my drivers licence, the gesture meant to placate his ego. You don’t shout at cops; I couldn’t believe I had.
He studied my licence, casting the occasional glance toward the ferry. “Mmm… expires 2010…” We could see he didn’t want us to miss the ferry, but neither could he just let us go. Then Fate lent him a hand in the shape of another car coming up behind us.  He handed me my licence and waved us on, his dignity restored.
“Thank you,” I smiled, as I put the car in gear and raced away.
Standing on the ferry’s gently humming deck as we sailed up the Canale della Giudecca, I stared in wonder at the wonderful sights – the Molino Stucky Hilton (an old flour mill), Le Zattare, where Venetians like to sunbathe and enjoy their ice cream, the Punta Della Dogana, the Bacino di San Marco with its bell tower, the Palazzo Ducale, the church of San Giorgio, the Riva degli Schiavoni, the Biennale….
I was woken from my reverie by an angry blast of the ferry’s horn, a warning to a smaller craft that was drifting into our path as we approached the Lido.