I already wrote much about Grado. My emotional introduction to the lagoon; Gianni Maran: artist who’s one of the most generous and talented persons I’ve ever met; an island, Grado, which is also a border to the Balkans, and which struggles as many others do to defend its identity against the jaws of tourism and modernity.
Time to set sail again, now. For the very last time. Another lagoon ahead, the Venetian one. I guess that for a moment it will resemble Itaca to me, or as more poetically the Greeks call it, Ithakí.
In Grado I met another special guy. Gianni Maran is a staggering, profound, all-round artist who never takes himself too seriously (take a look at his website). But above all he’s a friend, capable of an extraordinary welcome to a perfect stranger like me who calls him from the sea only a few hours before arriving.
And then it becomes evident, once again, that in the North (this is the northernmost point of my journey) as well as in the South (well, I let you guess what the most southern point I have touched is), islands are the places of hospitality. Forever and ever.