The Art of Not Knowing Where to Sleep

There are trips that one plans down to the last detail, with confirmed reservations, printed maps, and a list of restaurants in each city.

And then there are the others

On one of my vacations in Rome, staying with friends, I felt that undeniable impulse: I wanted to return to Venice. But not to stroll through the canals or wait in line at St. Mark's. I wanted to see the Art Biennale, lose myself in strange pavilions, and be shaken by strange and provocative installations.

The detail: I didn't have a hotel

But I thought... I've been there before, I know a lovely little hotel near Santa Lucia station. I'm sure I'll find a place.

(First mistake of the unsuspecting traveler: underestimating Venice in high season)

When I arrived, the hotel smiled at me: yes, there's a room available... but only for two nights. I accepted. Anyway, I'll see later. Living day to day seemed like an art form.

After 48 hours, the real challenge began: finding accommodation without a reservation in the middle of the Venetian summer. I ended up in a guesthouse that could have been decorated by some conceptual artist obsessed with abandon.

The room didn't have a bathroom. The walls were so thin that everything could be heard: laughter, slamming doors, footsteps, the voices of people at a party.

That night I struggled to rest. I didn't feel comfortable in the place, and I felt the door was more symbolic than secure.

But I trusted

And the next morning I went out early, with the sun in my favor and a light backpack of fear, to look for something better. And I found it: a simple, quiet room, with a bathroom and no ghosts or echoes of others.

I returned to my axis

I spent my days touring the Biennial as if everything had been perfectly orchestrated. I enjoyed works that spoke to me without words, I got lost among pavilions that seemed like worlds, and I felt that unique mix of adventure, courage and freedom that improvised trips have.

I returned to Rome without a plan, but with history

Because sometimes, the best part of the trip is not that everything goes well...
It's not that you care so much if something goes wrong