So just yesterday I was roaming the winding alleyways, or should I say streets, of Venice. There was a magical mist through the cloudy air. The day we were there it was raining. The sky was angry, casting the sun away with its flashing glare. It was like a maze there, with every few buildings being another turn, an alley jutting up, or a dead end just to spite you. It was a personal game of cat and mouse. I, the cat, was searching hours through the city to find the one thing I wanted to see, St. Marks Basilica. It took over two hours to peruse the city, a trek that should have only been 25 to 30 minutes. We were trying to meet up with groups of people all day but couldn’t due to the substantial amount of confusion from the language barrier and the misplaced signs. Through an extreme amount of determination, and terrible navigation on my part, we found St. Marks, and man was it beautiful!

The ceiling was done in golden mosaics, glittering even with how dimly lit the cathedral was. The architecture reminded me of the gothic era, with pointed windows and arches, as well as, lanterns with incense that hang from the ceiling. Jenna and Becca had finally met Mary and me there, taking in all the splendor with us. After a while we decided to walk around the city for the rest of the night.

We were deciding on a place to eat amongst the long and winding streets. The weather was only getting worse, drenching us in sky tears and hunger fears. We didn’t realize the time difference in hours between Venice and Florence, so we were wanting to eat exceptionally late in their eyes. Shop owners denied us and there we were getting soaked by natures curse, waiting for someplace warm to fill our stomachs. Finally, we sent Mary on ahead to find a place. There was a classy restaurant overlooking the canal that she found. She reserved us a table, tucked in the corner by a window. The waves were crashing along the side of the canal, unhappy to be disturbed by the stormy gale. The waiter smiled at our drenched appearance lighting a candle “for warmth.” He applauded our use of our Italian phrase book and helped us order through broken English.

We were one of the few remaining customers. He didn’t have to seat us and for that I was truly grateful. That dinner ended up being perfect. The storm calmed and our bellies were full, and the whole day of being lost and confused vanished in the candle light.  I have to laugh because the whole day we were stopping and turning around. Taking a moment here and there. I wasn’t able to relax about it. I was letting time constraints and promises keep me from truly enjoying my day. But there, there at the restaurant, I was calm, happy to be surrounded by my friends on this trip.

Venice put me in perspective to how I have been living my life, always on the go. But that day, I learned to take the twists it threw me. I gave up on the itinerary and followed the wishes of someone else. It was good for me. And when the sun came out the next day, I knew it was a sign that I had realized something important on this trip. Slowly but surely I am coming to terms with my actions and who I am supposed to be.