l'isola d'oro

Grado is called the island of gold. I now understand why. Paolo picked me up this morning and took me to Grado for the day. At this moment, I cannot configure the appropriate words to describe my day, both in terms of relating what I saw in Grado and in what I experienced with Paolo and his family. It's probably best to start at the beginning... Paolo is a nervous kinda guy. Not clumsy or fidgety, but very emotional. For this, he told me that he couldn't talk to me while he was driving. I am already inclined to appreciate silence, as opposed to engaging in meaningless conversation, but this was a very different kind of silence. A warm silence. Throughout the day, Paolo and I continued to share moments of silence (it was a bit tiresome frequently changing between Italian and English). I felt as if there was a profound understanding and respect between us, one that seldom exists even between old friends. It was very calming.

After we walked along the beach, around the city center, visited the church, the port, and passed (in slight disgust) a parade of red Ferraris, we headed to the fishermen's docks on the lagoon. Paolo's father picked us up in his little wooden boat and took us out to the family's "casono," a word that refers to fishermen's huts on little islands throughout the lagoon. We passed the afternoon with the company of Paolo's parents, drinking wine, enjoying a pleasant lunch of pasta and garden fresh salad (the arugula and radicchio were grown there on the island), and soaking up the sun. Paolo had told me about his brother, Fabio, who studied abroad in Georgia while he was in high school. After the family received a phone call from Fabio, they passed the phone to me to ask him where he had studied in Georgia. It really is a very small world. Fabio lived in Cartersville and went to Woodland High School. Of all the places in the world... He invited me to come and visit him Milan. Maybe I will.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach. Paolo leaves on Tuesday to spend some time in another self-sustainable ecological camp, this time in Florence. He doesn't know how long he'll stay. Maybe forever. I can't help but feel extremely privileged to have spent a day with Paolo. In bocca del lupo.