The kitchen clock marks midday. Argo gets out of his kennel and stretches: it’s lunch time for him. I stand up and open one of his cans. He wags his tail gratefully and eat. I think I’m not going to eat, I have too much work to do. I keep typing and erasing.
Ok, forget it: someone is buzzing me. I’m aiming for the front door while I step over lots of books and magazines left on the floor. I slightly move the curtain and recognize my friend Pierre, who is completely wrapped in a bottle green scarf. As soon as I open the door, Pierre pushes me back into my house and begins to act anxious: «What do you expect? You can not describe Venice because you’ve never seen it before!».
I open my eyes wide: I do not like crowded cities. A little while ago I told Pierre that I can’t find the right words to describe that marvelous city, where my next novel takes place. Shall I start regretting it?
The San Clemente Palace Kempinski Venice
Pierre says he heard of a hotel in Venice, that is described as an oasis of peace and quietness. I’m curious, not to mention that I’d really need to feel as if I didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe an holiday will do it.
In front of a cup of good tea and some macarons, I discuss the details of my novel with Pierre. In the meantime, we give a glance at the website of the hotel he mentioned, the San Clemente Palace Kempinski Venice.
Those breath-taking views, the majestic rooms and the broad gardens seem to be the perfect combination for nourishing my inspiration. Thus, I decide to write an email and make a reservation.
Good morning Venice!
I’m ready for this trip. My flight is on time, hence I land in the early afternoon at Venice airport: it’s wet and overcast, just as I’ve been told. I follow the instructions provided by the San Clemente Palace Kempinski until I get to St. Mark’s Square. Here, a boat waits for me and other guests of the hotel. I try to capture as many details as possible: the smell of the sea, the voices of many men singing, some sailors announcing loudly the vaporetto stops and all those superb palaces, that make this city unique and fulfill my eyes with beauty.
Once I’m on the boat and we’re gently moving away from the quay, I admire the view offered by Venice. I can even inhale a mouthful of serenity.
A few minutes later, the taxi driver shows me the island of San Clemente in front of us. There, the hotel stands. A sunbeam appears as I get off the boat, so as to invite me to follow the path to enter the hotel.
The vegetation is spruce and lush and the structure looks majestic but alluring. I’m welcomed at the reception by a woman, who is entirely dressed in red. She gives me the room key and some information about the schedules and the services offered at San Clemente Palace Kempinski. I cannot wait to freshen up a bit and relax. A clean smell floods the whole room, which is elegantly furnished although not exceeding in richness.
Looking out of the window, I admire the lagoon covered by a veil of mist. A girl is walking alone through the garden. She is wrapped in a striped sweater bigger than her size, and her hair is gathered in a shabby bun. She is mysterious and enchanting. For I am a romantic soul, I decide to get to know her. I walk quickly to reach her, but when I get there, she’s already left.
Well, that’s it!
I’m starting to feel hungry, therefore I head to the restaurant that lady in red showed me earlier. As soon as I enter it, I recognize the mysterious girl I saw I the garden: she is there! She is sitting at the counter, reading the menu. I make up my mind and move closer. Without beating around the bush, I timidly confess that I saw her through my room’s window and that I’d like to know her. She is surprised: she opens her eyes wide, still she holds out her right hand.
«I’m Anna. Nice to meet you». I apologize for my intrusiveness and she smiles, indeed she wants to reassure me I’m not intrusive at all, and that she likes to meet new people. After that she goes back to the menu and asks me what I’d have for dinner.
We spontaneously decide to have dinner together, even though neither said it explicitly. A wonderful smile appears on her face as we start talking about everything.
She tells me that she’s at San Clemente because she needs to spend some time on her own, to regenerate herself in body and mind. I feel exactly the same.
When she asks me the reason why I’m there too, I answer vaguely: I don’t want her to recognize me. Writers like me are known for their name, not for their physical look.
We spend a wonderful time together, talking and laughing. After dinner we go for a walk through the gardens of San Clemente. The view is breath-taking: the moon is full and the lagoon glimmers, while the silence reigns.
We walk till her room and then we say goodnight. When I go back to my room, my heart beats like a hammer. I lie down in bed and start writing: the words come out of my pen like a river in flood. The next morning I can’t look forward to going to the breakfast buffet because I hope to meet her. As soon as I see her my heart skips a beat.
«Good morning. Did you sleep well?», I ask her. She nods while mixing the sugar in her coffee.
It’s not a dream!
We spend the following days together, between a romantic walk and a candlelight dinner, until our first kiss. The week flies away so fast that I’ve almost forgot who I really am and why I’m here. The sadly inescapable moment arrives: we have to say goodbye. She hugs me tightly and tells me that she will come to visit me in France as soon as possible.
«When you are missing me… read our story», I whisper in her ear. She tilts her head and gives me a puzzled look, for she’s expecting an answer. Finally, I introduced myself saying my name and surname.
«I cannot believe this is true… Am I dreaming?»
My book will be released after a few months.
You already know the plot. The beginning? “It’s not a dream, it’s San Clemente island”.