Home Base

The Venice Boardwalk won’t cure our hangovers we've come to know from the previous night, so we head east a couple blocks and take a stroll into the Venice Canals. The Canals are simply a peaceful place to be. The Boardwalk clatter is long gone and replaced by singing birds, tiny two-seat rowboats float still, flowers cover fences, and people stroll hand in hand discussing which of the exclusive houses they want to live in. I’d take any. My bank won’t let me though. It’s easy to see why people would reside in this little locale. It feels like every rom-com flick ever made must’ve had at least one scene that was filmed here. It would be a fool’s move not too. We walk at a snails pace and soak it up before making our way back to the ocean for a quick dip.

I try and use the ocean and it’s bloody cold temperature as a preemptive strike against the slowly increasing severity of this hangover. I don’t know where this train of thought came from but it works. I dive under, frolic around for a bit, and get hammered down from a couple of ordinary waves. My girlfriend watches from the warm sandy shore, watching for her soon to be thirty-year-old boyfriend acting like a child. She blocks the sun with her hand and squints with a ‘you can’t be serious face’. I am, I love the ocean.

We head back to the hotel to drop off some knickknacks and grab a beverage. The mirror in the bathroom showcases our sunburns very nicely. Will I ever learn? The plan is to catch a quick power nap and get an early dinner then watch the sunset on the beach. The plan fails. Turns out those bowling ball and wine glass mattresses from the commercials are comfortable. I can feel the sleep work in an inception-like manner; first, a sleepy stupor and then before I know it, a full blown coma.

When we finally awaken there’s no time for a fancy dinner. We grab a quick sandwich and catch the sunset from atop the Hotel Erwin. The hotel has a picturesque view of Venice, the iconic Hollywood Hills, and a flawless view of my redheaded girlfriend contemplating life as the sun slumps downward behind the mountains. I have no idea what’s going through her mind, but I highly doubt it’s about the two lefty’s we’ll see pitching tomorrow night at Dodger Stadium. We knock back a few too many of the local beers, Instagram the sunset to death, and mosey on down to the pier to plan our lifetime escape here from Winnipeg. It's only been a day and I want to pack up and movie here. I better let the bank know.