After a semi-hearty breakfast, featuring not enough coffee, we bid arrivederci to Venice. We have walked our asses off, overcome colds, prayed for rain, and thrilled to the process of exhausting ourselves. This fog could be rain, except the moisture is not falling. Slowly we make our way around the Lagoon on the Alilaguna.
At the airport, we schlep from line to line as the semi-mystical process of embarkation unspools in airport time. Then, we enplane; then, we’re aloft. Eight hours later, we’re in the taxi line at JFK International Arrivals. Joss and I share a cab to the Hooters in Fresh Meadows where I’ll pick up the jitney to Greenport. We hug, knowing we’ll see one another later in the week.