I saw this on the shelf of Main Point Books yesterday and had to have it. It's a memoir about an American who falls in love with a Venetian and--of course!--with Venice itself. I can't wait for a few spare hours of reading time, to immerse myself. To be transported.
Until then, I've allowed myself a peek at the back, at a section entitled "How to Fall in Love with Venice." Here's entry number three:
"At crepuscolo (dusk) head for the terrace bar at the Hotel Monaco, housed in the seenteenth-century palazzo of the noble Vallaresso family. It looks out on a particularly glorious section of the Grand Canal, proving that the Venice of one's dreams is the real Venice. Best to tell the barman to concoct his own special aperetivo for you. Just say, 'Ci pensi lei. You decide.'"
Meanwhile, I'm still in my jammies, hammering away at the latest revision of Love, Lucy. Either way, still dreaming about Italy.