|One of the tables overlooking the lagoon|
In one area of the large graveled outdoor dining area, near the little swing set, was a bachelor party: the groom dressed in a curly red clown wig, a white T-shirt (whose hand-written text I never got around to reading), and very small women's panties worn over his jeans. As bachelor parties go, it was quite well behaved. After one member of the party got a bit carried away and, for whatever reason, removed his trousers, he noticed Jen walking past on her way to the restroom, apologized for his rash act, and put them back on.
Before sunset the whole group of a dozen or so men piled into a large boat and set off from the trattoria's dock to wherever their next revels lay.
There was live entertainment: a singer accompanied by a Karaoke set-up. He sang, with not a trace of irony, "Feelings." Yes, that "Feelings" ("Whoa, whoa, whoa..."), which Wikipedia assures me won the 1975 Grammy Award for Song of the Year.
There were groups of teenagers arriving in their boats, and families arriving in theirs, and a birthday party of adults, and plenty of smaller kids, on the swing set, or running around the large grassy yard behind the kitchen, beside the very large garden.
The Rombo al forno was okay last night, but not as good as I remembered it being last year (perhaps because it was not cooked with potatoes, as it was last time I had it). The spaghetti alle vongole was good, the pizzas good. But the light and view and general feel were great.
When we left at 10 pm everything was still going strong--the music, the families and teens and groups of friends (all speaking Italian)--and for the first time in many many years I found myself reminded of the large Italian(-American) weddings that punctuated my childhood far less often than I wished, back about the time when the song "Feelings" was being played on radio stations all over America, without a trace of irony.
|The view of the trattoria's landing dock; the church of San Pietro di Castello and the campanile of San Giorgio Maggiore in the distance|
|People arrive at the trattoria in boats of all sizes: in this case an inflatable two-person dinghy|
|A couple walks toward the path leading to the vaporetto stop leading to (and from) Fondamenta Nove|
|Sunset seen from the trattoria|