Close as it Gets | My Family Travels
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            So I have this incessant dream of going to Italy. I’d love to be there, see the people, eat the food, and scope the fashion. Unfortunately for me, I am a fifteen year old student; I’m not old enough to get a job and saving up my pennies and lunch money just isn’t going to cut it. For now I try to fill that Italian void in my life by eating Italian food and keeping in touch with my Italian pen pal. And I just have to deeply admire the various pictures from Italy I can find on the internet.

            Other than Italy, by living in California, I also love the beach. I usually go to the local beaches around where I live. But one day, I decided to venture off a little further and try Venice Beach. I had only been there once in my life, as far as I could remember I liked it, so I thought I would give it another chance. I really just wanted to go to Venice and see what the many street venders had to offer.

            I asked my mom if this time, instead of going to Manhattan or Redondo Beach, we try Venice; she was completely okay with it. My mom, sister, and I hopped in the car and drove off to Venice. We arrived and had to circle a few blocks to try and find parking. We finally got to a $15 lot and got a nice parking spot next to a trailer that someone seemed to be living out of. I was excited and anxious to head over to the beach but my mom told me there was something she thought I’d like.

            We walked out the parking lot and went a couple of blocks into what seemed like a canal. There was a makeshift home at the beginning of the canal fully equipped with a basket full of someone’s treasures. I figured this was some sort of hangout spot for the homeless. I was beginning to wonder why my mom had brought me here. We then walked up a few steps and into what turned into a beautiful neighborhood with houses that were almost right on the water. I gasped and made several of those comments people make when they are excited like, “Oh my gosh!”

            The image was serene; it was almost an exact replica of Venice in Italy. (At least I’d think so from the pictures I have seen.) The elegant houses had a typical fence and then a sidewalk, but instead of a street, they had a shining stream of water that reflected those beautiful houses. There were vintage looking boats tied to the wall that separated the sidewalk from the water. They looked so cute and picturesque I wondered if they were actually used or there for decoration. As badly as I didn’t want to look like a tourist, I swallowed my pride, pulled out my camera, and snapped many pictures of my own little Venice. That way, I can have my own personal photos of Venice instead of looking them up on the internet. It still is not the real thing, and I still plan on going to Italy someday, but for now, this memory will hold me down until that day comes. I am so thankful that my mom brought me to this special part of Venice and I’m glad that I went ahead and took those pictures. Because now, every time I look at them, I feel like I am there again, and I as I felt that day, I am happy.

 

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