Fictional Diary Entry of an Italian Merchant From Venice
Date originally created: May 8, 2003
Diary of Leonardo, March 7, 1489
This morning, I awoke to the familiar sound of boats creaking in the canal beneath my window. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of saltwater and a hint of freshly baked bread. For breakfast, I had a simple fare of black bread and olives, accompanied by a small cup of warm goat's milk.
After breakfast, I set off toward the Rialto to open my shop - a well-stocked stall of spices, dried herbs, and silks. The streets were bustling with merchants unloading their goods from distant lands, a sight that never fails to remind me of how fortunate we are to live in this republic, where the whole world seems to come to us.
When the sun was overhead, I took a break and stopped by a small inn for lunch where I had a hearty bowl of zuppa di ceci, a chickpea soup flavored with garlic and herbs. This was accompanied by a piece of fish caught from the lagoon that morning, and a slice of warm bread. The soup and bread warmed me as I ate, and I watched travelers and locals alike crowd the inn - exchanging stories of distant places. I could smell the spices on my own clothes as I listened to tales of Ottoman lands and other places I have only heard of.
The excitement of the day came when I saw a peculiar procession passing through the piazza. A man dressed in extravagant, colorful clothing, his hat adorned with a single, brilliant peacock feather, stood atop a platform on a boat. He was reading verses from a parchment - poetry, I think, though his dialect was difficult to follow. Around him, other performers acted out scenes in silence. The crowd gathered quickly, clapping and shouting as he finished each verse. I learned later he was a poet from Florence, here on a brief visit. Such spectacles are rare here, and the colors and life in the performance stayed with me long after the show had passed.
I closed my shop as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden hue over the Grand Canal. For dinner, I joined my friend Pietro and his family. We shared a dish of roasted vegetables - carrots, turnips, and onions - seasoned with rosemary, and a few slices of salted meat, as well as a large platter of polenta, a cornmeal porridge that satisfied me after a long day. We drank wine, made from the grapes of Pietro's uncle's vineyard on the mainland. As we ate, we spoke of the day, of the poet and his verses, and of business and family matters.
After the meal, we lingered at the table, sharing stories and laughing well into the evening. I really enjoy these evenings with Piettro's family as they are a nice way to relax after a long, busy day. As I walked home beneath the stars, I felt grateful to live in Venice, and I look forward to see what tomorrow brings.