Ten years before I abdicated my
bachelorhood (to a remarkable and loving woman, who to this day is still my
bride) I visited Venice solo as a guest of Ciga Hotels, an upscale collection
of hotels with various properties throughout Italy.
At the time, I was editor in chief of San Francisco
Magazine. Ciga’s marketing team had
assembled a troupe of journalists from around the world to collect in Venice to
begin a week long tour of the hotel properties in Venice, Asalo, Florence and
Rome.
My assignment was to write a travel story on my experience,
which I had published upon my return to the Bay Area.
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Dick and Liz in the 70s enjoying a similar Danieli balcony as mine |
This blog is my second article.
I arrived via Pan Am on a 747 from Los Angeles mid afternoon
on a beautiful spring day in 1979.
I was greeted at the airport by one of the chauffeurs
assigned to the Danielli, one of the great Ciga Hotels in Venice. We boarded the green water taxi with the
distinctive Danelli logo embossed on its sides.
We crossed the choppy
and docked at the hotel as the sun slipped lower. In my two room suite, I was greeted with a
nice note from management, a large bowl of fresh fruit and a generous jeroboam
of French Champagne.
I remember grabbing the Champagne by the neck and rushed out
to the balcony the lagoon with St. Mark’s Square to the right. Sunset was going to be glorious and I didn’t
want to miss it.
Distracted by three nicely dressed women standing below my
balcony studying a map, I called down to offer assistance. They were looking for Piazza San Marcos. I pointed in the direction of the large tower
so famously associated with the plaza.
They thanked me for the direction in crisp English. I figured them for Londoners as their accent
was a bit flat or maybe Canadians?
“Would you like to join me on the terrace to enjoy the sunset. Two smiled back.
I was encouraged. But
the third, the obvious leader, turned me down:
“Sorry, we’re dying to have coffee at the Caffe Florian.”
Relying on my two hours experience in Italy, much less
Venice I offered: “It’s much too late
for coffee and the sunset won’t wait forever.”
The trio waved and turned toward San Marcos. They chose coffee over my first offer.
Operating on sheer instinct, I unwrapped the foil on the
extra sized bottle and pointed the cork in their direction. The loud pop and the cork landing near them
grabbed their attention.
They turned laughing.
I shouted my room number.
Soon a bellman escorted the then mid 20-somethings to my room. After I answered the door and assured him
they were indeed my guests I tipped him and asked for a dinner menu. He pointed out the room service menu was in
the desk near the balcony.
The four of us clinked flutes and enjoyed a gorgeous bottle
of Champagne and sunset. By the time the
sun had set, we had enjoyed a large selection of appetizers. Because the evening was still young, they
invited me to join them for coffee and dessert at Caffe Florian to thank me for
the hospitality. Of course, I
agreed. Walking through the Danielli
lobby with three women on my arms made my trip.
We were off to explore Venice at night.
Yes, I did have coffee at the famed coffee house, the oldest one in
Europe, but I only remember the laughter.
I later learned that my ploy to have them join me was not
based on my charm but it had more to do with the sound of a bottle of Champagne
opening. They were airline hostesses
with Pan Am and were in Venice on a two-day layover. –By Thomas Shess, editor Pillartopost.org
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| This excellent photograph of Caffe Florian in Venice, Italy at night was taken by Larry Kincaid, Black & White Magazine |
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