Venice, Italy, October 2015

Una notte a Venezia

Waking up in the dim light of the hotel room, with the sun being blocked by the heavy velvet curtains, the memories of last night come back. Are they memories, or was it a dream? Looking back, it feels unreal, like a Cinderella kind of story.

We found it amusing to dress up in evening gowns and high heels, and like teenagers on prom night, kept having our picture taken in the hotel lobby by the guys at the reception – who clearly found US amusing.

We took a water taxi down the Canale Grande, with a bright round moon reflecting on the water, and the illuminated palazzos passing by left and right. Who can resist the enchanting charms of Venice, this unique blend of culture, romance and decay. At night, a tad of magic gets thrown into the mix. Our destination was (as the taxi boat driver told us) nothing less illustrious than the city’s finest palace.

Well, when a superyacht shipyard hosts a gala dinner, they do it in style. I had to keep reminding myself just how I, representing a conservation organization, had ended up as a special guest in this circle, with the mayor of the city and who knows what other important people. It was one of these moments in life that you look at from the outside, even while you experience it, shaking your head with a slightly bemused, disbelieving smile.

Walking into the bluely lit dining hall, with real candles on the chandeliers, I am certain I forgot my countenance for a moment and just stood with my mouth open. The 9-course dinner, prepared by a Michelin star chef, was themed around “the sea”, and each of the minuscule dishes had a patron. I introduced “my” dish, a fish named “occiata” (eye), by saying that we all, as we use the ocean in whichever way, need to jointly keep an eye on the sea to protect it. There you go for the conservation message, delivered within 30 seconds, to not keep the esteemed guests away from their conversation for too long.

As if the string quartet hadn’t been enough, an opera singer entertained us during the second part of the dinner. 

I quickly gave up trying to figure out which of the wines served in the various crystal glasses in front of me (right next to the hand written name tag) was supposed to be consumed with which dish. I have an instinctive adversity against wasting food (and beverages), so as the waiters kept refilling my glasses, I kept trying to empty them. Which just served to make the evening appear all the more magical.

Even after midnight, the boat to bring us home hadn’t turned into a pumpkin. So reconsidering, I’m pretty sure all this really did happen. Fortunately. I get up, open the curtains, and look out onto the sun-lit piazza.