The Venetian Time Machine
Personal Notes from the Quiet Season in the Canal City
On a Saturday night last month, my friend Matthew was lost in the web of narrow bridges, canals, and alleyways that crisscross Venice. We had a table booked in a small and unpretentious osteria I like, and until we were all there, we couldn’t order.
The place only had five or six tables, and I didn’t want to be asked to give ours up on what must be the …
